Page 31 of Snowed In with Benefits

I can feel the warmth of his skin all around me. I’m so cold I would imagine that he’d still be cool to the touch, but he’s not. It’s like there’s a fire burning in his chest that radiates down his arms and legs, adding to the heat of the water rather than detracting from it.

My skin tingles everywhere we almost touch, and burns where the touching is complete. I’ve never been so aware of another person, never in my whole life. It’s like the air between us is electric and there’s nothing here to ground me.

My arms are crossed over my breasts, but it doesn’t do much to help me ignore the situation. I haven’t been this naked with anybody but Preston for years, and I’ve certainly not bathed with anyone since… honestly, I couldn’t tell you. I think the last time I was this naked in a tub with another human, my sister and I were toddlers.

Beau is the complete opposite of anyone I’ve ever been in a tub with. His thick thighs shift slightly on either side of me and I can feel his cock brush across my back. I bite my lip as tension crawls up my body—not a cold tension, but the tension that comes from the electric charge of anticipation.

Anticipating what? I’m not sure, exactly, but every nerve in my body is on high alert, burning everywhere we touch, tensing at the unspoken implications. The tub is warm, but his body is just a little bit warmer.

He doesn’t move, but his cock presses a little more firmly against my back. He’s stiffening, if only slightly. A flood of warmth fills my lower belly before I can stop it. Clearing my throat, I shift slightly, trying to ignore the feel of him against me. I stop as quickly as I start, because moving around is only making me more aware of how close we are, how close to naked we are, how easily this could turn into something more.

Beau clears his throat just as I stop moving. The silence is stiff and stilted, suffocatingly polite in the most awkward way. It stretches out around us, like a rubber band being pulled tighter and tighter, and with every passing moment I grow more and more sensitive to his body.

I have to say something. This is ridiculous, we aren’t strangers. Not anymore, anyway. Hell, if we’d never spoken a word before the bath, we still wouldn’t be strangers now. We’re two human beings caught in an awkward situation, that’s all. There has to be something I can say to break the tension before it snaps. If I let it snap… no, I’m not ready for that.

“You didn’t strike me as the type to have a bleeding heart for animals,” I blurt out.

He snorts. “You didn’t strike me as the type to judge a book by its cover.” His words rumble in his chest and through my back before rushing through my hair. Maybe talking was a bad idea.

I wince at his words even as I’m distracted by the sensation of them. “That’s true, I did do that. I’m sorry.”

He huffs a little laugh. “It’s all good. You aren’t the first. You won’t be the last.”

There’s something in the way he says it that tugs at my heart a little. He seems like he’s used to people holding him at arm’s length and being afraid of him, just because of how he looks. Remembering how he spoke to the deer, how he put himself in harm’s way to help it, I realize that who he is and what he looks like are two very different things.

I understand how he might be accustomed to those assumptions, though. When we first met, he startled me, sure, but it was deeper than that. His hulking form in the doorway, his tattoos… even though I could barely see them, I remember vividly noticing the bit that crept above his collar and down his wrists… and the sheer size of him, all of that scared me.

I assumed he was dangerous. I assumed he would hurt me. Now he’s holding me in the tub after saving a deer. Who would have thought?

“So… do you like all animals, or do you have a particular soft spot for trapped deer?” It’s a silly question, but I’m driven to keep the conversation going. It’s distracting me from his body, for one thing, but also it’s kind of cozy.

“I like them all. I like animals better than people, most of the time.” There’s a rough edge to his voice, a bit of emotion I can’t quite identify.

“Really? Why’s that?”

He sighs and his breath is warm against my neck. I think about shifting back so that doesn’t happen again, but shifting my position might break this spell. He’s being open with me for once, not sarcastic, not judgmental, just… open. I let the sensation of his breath run down my body without reacting to it visibly. Inside, though, my heart is racing.

“Animals don’t lie,” he says. “They don’t cheat. They don’t hurt each other for fun. Animals take what they need and leave the rest, they don’t hoard more than they could use in a lifetime. Animals are just… honest. Honestly themselves, whatever that means for them.”

His voice is softening as he speaks. There’s something so raw about the way he’s speaking right now. I feel like I’m catching a glimpse of his authentic self even as he’s talking about animals being authentic to themselves.

“I saved a raccoon, once,” he says, his voice warm. “It was caught in our chimney. The little bastard was after snacks and warmth, that’s all. Even with its devious little hands and escape artist mentality, it was still an honest raccoon. That’s just what raccoons do.”

The more he talks, the more I relax. His cock is still there, still pressed against my back, but it’s not taking up every single ounce of my focus anymore. It’s just a part of him, and he’s just a part of the bath, and the bath is just a part of a moment in my life. I take the first full breath I’ve taken since I hit the water and my muscles begin to loosen.

“Do Emmett and Hunter feel the same way? Are you all just living out here rescuing animals?”

“They like animals fine, but no, they don’t feel the same way. Not really.”

I don’t know why that disappoints me a little. The image of the three of them, running around saving every animal they come across, makes me happy. If it’s just him… well. That still warms my heart. He’s pretty much the scariest of the three of them, even though Emmett is bigger. Emmett isn’t covered in tattoos and his face isn’t etched with the kind of defensive aggression that’s written all over Beau’s face most of the time.

Most of the time. I can’t imagine that’s what his face looks like now, but I’m not going to twist my body to check.

He pauses, then chuckles. “A couple winters ago, I took in a stray cat. Prettiest little tortoiseshell calico you’ve ever seen in your life, just an absolute doll. Those two teased the hell out of me for weeks about her.”

“Teased you? Why, for taking her in?” That doesn’t make me feel very good about Hunter and Emmett, honestly.

The image of them running around saving animals is now becoming an image of them mocking Beau for saving animals, and the thought of that makes me frown. I get that they tease each other gently, but outright mocking is something different. It’s shots taken at something important, and saving kitties? That’s important.