Snowbound by Sasha Wexler

Author:Sasha Wexler [Wexler, Sasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Evie

I brush my teeth and wash my face. I change into my t-shirt style nightdress. It’s my pink one, and it’s so old it’s almost see-through. I think about wearing my street clothes to bed instead, but when Marcus came out of the bathroom he was in plaid flannel pajamas. If I come back out wearing my same skirt and top, or – even worse – a new set of daytime clothes, I’ll look like a weirdo.

This threadbare nightdress though…god, if I’d known I’d be spending the night with a hot man, I would have brought something decidedly different.

The thought stops me short. I’m spending the night with a hot man. That I just met five hours ago. Sleeping in his bed. And I’m worried about my fashion choices? You’d think maybe I’d be worried about a different set of issues.

But I’m not. I’m so comfortable with Marcus. I feel like I could talk to him forever, about anything, and that literally never happens to me.

I swipe my face one more time with the clean, wet white washcloth. I fold it in half, then in half again, and I set it on the far corner of the counter.

I smile at myself in the mirror. Teeth look fine. It’s now or never.

I shield my body a little as I walk toward the bed, not a full “arms criss crossed over my chest,” but enough blockage to make sure Marcus can’t see my nipples shining like headlights through the thin pink fabric of my nightdress.

Marcus’s eyes track me as I cross the room, but as soon as I reach the side of the bed, he makes a studious effort to concentrate one hundred percent of his attention on the television. I fold back a corner of the covers and slide in.

I settle in, plump the two thick pillows so they prop me up, and pull the covers so that they hide my traitor nipples, which have hardened into high, tight peaks.

I turn my eyes to the television too, where a man spins a woman in his arms as snowflakes fall around them. “What are we watching?” I ask.

“I took the liberty of tuning it to the women’s channel.”

“Really? After you claimed full control of the remote?”

“I was just kidding about that,” he says, turning to me with a smile. “Isn’t this what women like?”

“I spend all my time writing papers, so I don’t know what I like to watch on TV, let alone all women. We can watch professional wrestling if you want.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Isn’t that what men like?”

“Ah, touche, well played. You know, I believe I did skip over some World Wrestling Federation on my way to this channel.”

“They don’t call it that anymore.”

“They don’t?”

“Nope. Big legal thing between them and a wildlife group with the same initials.”

“Well look who knows more about wrestling than I do.”

“What’s your sport, then?”

“I played rugby in college.”

I bet he did. I can see how well defined his chest is through the flannel of his pajama top, and I can imagine the rest of his body is just as hard and tight.

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