28
There’s nowhere for Bear to go, so he pees on the top step, where the overhang kept the snow from falling.
Caleb appears behind me and slaps my ass. “I guess it stopped.”
“Um, how do we get out?”
His chuckle is low and sexy. “Guess we’ll have to tunnel our way through it.”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.
Oh. Wow. It sounds so fun when he says it. Like it’s a game we’re going to play. Right before we build snowmen and an igloo.
I shut the door and throw down the towel he used last night to soak up the snowmelt all over the floor.
Caleb’s already headed to the kitchen where he washes his hands and then breaks eggs into a bowl.
I saunter over, drawn like a magnet to his body. “Whatcha making?”
“How do you feel about a salmon omelet?”
“Oh my God, are you serious? It sounds like something I’d die for.”
He turns and pins with me a dark stare. “Too soon.”
I laugh.
“No dying on my watch.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. In my cheeks, too. I guess I’m blushing. Caleb grunts that my omelet is ready.
I take the plate from him, which is piled high with potatoes and the best-looking omelet I’ve ever seen. “Thank you. I’m so excited. I’ve never had a salmon omelet.”
Caleb’s eyes crinkle.
It’s my new favorite thing.
I sit to eat while he returns to the stove to cook a second omelet. “So you really like fish? I would’ve thought a guy like you would be more of a red meat kind of man.”
Caleb shrugs. “I eat red meat. But I like to fish, so I eat fish.”
It’s such a straightforward answer from a straightforward man. I may have found him grumpy at first, but at least he never plays games. His intentions are always clear. I like that about him.
I get up and serve myself coffee, enjoying the comfortable way he moves over and lets me in. Like I belong here. Or I’m welcome. Like we’re roommates-with benefits.
That actually makes me smile.
I start humming to myself as I pour the two cups of coffee and add milk and sugar to mine. I noticed he took his black yesterday.
He sits down with his finished omelet and we eat together in a companionable silence-so different from yesterday’s awkward conversation gaps.
“So do you think I’ll get back to my cabin today?”
Caleb snorts. “Doubtful,” he says with his mouth full of food. “Depends on how bright that sun shines today. There’s a lot of snow that needs melting first. I don’t think we’ll manage to tunnel all the way there.” His eyes crinkle again with a smirk and my heart does a little flutter.
Wow. Thirty-six hours and I’m falling in love.
No! I can’t fall in love. This is just about sex. And research. And I hate men, anyway.
Except sex politics mean nothing in this cabin. There’s no status or posturing or trying to prove I’m as worthy. He insists on calling me Doctor, for God’s sake. Definitely not a man who’s intimidated by my degree or intelligence.
We’re just two people stuck in a cabin together.
We finish eating and I shower, then put on the clothes I was wearing when he rescued me. When I come out, I find Caleb wasn’t kidding. He’s already started tunneling out the front door and has cut a path about two feet wide and ten feet out. The snow walls are taller than I am. Bear barks with joy, running out into the snow and wagging his tail.
I laugh, my own joy matching his. It’s like our own Dr. Zhivago. A beautiful winter wonderland. Caleb moves with fluid grace and apparent ease, using a shovel to toss snow a full five feet to the banks on either side. I stop and watch his muscular ass in his jeans, admire the power behind his movements.
After a minute, I touch Caleb’s back. “Want me to take over?”
He’s wearing a knit cap, but otherwise isn’t overly bundled. I suppose shoveling is hard work. His forehead wrinkles with what appears to be incredulity and he frowns. “Ah, no, Doctor. No disrespect, but I got this.” There is a touch of pompous sexism in his words, but instead of offending me, they warm me. Because I can tell he thinks giving me the shovel would be unchivalrous.
And I’m happy to let him be the man in this instance. Especially when he looks so good doing it.
“Well, thanks. Where are you heading?”
He lifts his chin. “I should hit my truck soon, unless I’m off.” He looks up at the trees and back at the house. “No, the truck should be up here in ten feet or so.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’m going to dig it out and see if the plow will work. It’s a big truck, but I don’t think I’ve ever plowed anything this deep.”
Oh thank God. He has a plow. Of course he does. It fits the mountain man / construction crew vibe.
“And if it doesn’t?” I don’t know why I’m asking so many questions, but I’m so out of my element here. I’m completely at the mercy of his knowledge and expertise. I can’t go anywhere unless he gets me there.
“Then I carry you back into that cabin and give you a few more lessons for your research.”
My pussy squeezes. “What kind did you have in mind?”
He stops shoveling and tilts his head. “Bondage. Anal. More spanking.”
It’s like he lit a match and tossed it into a puddle of fuel. Heat explodes in my core, flames lick my inner thighs, my asshole, my nipples.
“Maybe some edging.”
“What’s that?” My voice warbles. I’m not afraid, but a tremor of nerves ripple through me.
“That’s where I keep you on the brink of an orgasm but don’t let you come.”
“That sounds… horrible!” I complain.
“Nah. When you finally do come, it’ll be so good you’ll be sobbing at my feet.”