Page 47 of Snowed In with Benefits

“This way, I can keep paying attention to your pretty little clit. Would you like that?” I brush my fingers against it and she gasps, so I do it again.

“Is that good, baby?”

“Yes,” she gasps, melting into me.

I roll my hips, driving into her from below, deeper and deeper. I work her clit at the same time, then run my other hand up from her hip, over her belly, stopping for a moment at her breast, only to come to rest against her throat. I’m not cutting off her air, just holding it there. I squeeze lightly and feel her clench around me.

Her throat in my hand. She just met me. She doesn’t know my last name, doesn’t know my history, doesn’t know what I’m capable of. And she’s giving me this. The weight of that trust settles into my palm like something warm and breakable, and I hold it carefully.

“You like that, don’t you?”

She nods, rolling her hips to match my thrusts. She’s lost in it, making these hot little noises. I release her throat and pinch her nipples, still working her clit as she rolls on me. I press my mouth to the spot just under her ear.

“You feel so fucking good,” I tell her, hoarse and low against her ear. “You’re doing so well. Such a good girl.”

I feel it when I say it. Her whole body responds, not just a clench, not just a shiver, but something deeper. Something that runs through her like a current being switched on. I’ve been with women who liked praise. This isn’t that. This is a woman who has been starving for someone to tell her that exactly what she’s doing, exactly how she’s doing it, is right. Not right for me. Right, period. I can feel the difference in the way she melts. She’s not performing. She’s arriving. And I want to keep her there.

Movement catches my eye and I freeze, going still inside her. Every muscle in my body locks. The heat is still roaring through me, my body still screaming for release, but that isn’t my top priority anymore. My arm tightens around her waist.

“Don’t look now, sugarplum. But I think we’ve got an audience.”

19

JOSIE

My heart lurches and my eyes fly wide open at his words. Beau is standing there, looking at us, his expression completely unreadable in the low light. Not that his expressions are very readable in bright light, but this is worse than usual. I freeze, my whole body suddenly very aware of the position I’m in; naked, on the comfy chair, with Hunter deep inside me.

My heart sinks. I’ve been caught doing something unladylike, untoward, un… un-something. I can feel the scorn from everybody in my life, can feel the words they would use to describe this situation. Lord, if anybody knew where I am and what I’m doing, they would be up in arms over it. My thoughts are whirling but blissfully vague. The last thing I want to think about right now is Preston or my mother.

Beau’s gaze is lingering on me. I’m glistening with sweat, utterly naked, my nipples fully erect, Hunter’s hand between my thighs. I cover my breasts with one arm and squeeze my legs together, putting my hand over Hunter’s in my lap. It’s a mistake. Touching my own breasts sends shocks of pleasure through me. Squeezing my legs together makes Hunter feel even bigger inside me. I bite my lip, incredibly turned on, having the opposite of an out of body experience.

Beau’s expression is frozen. The only part of his face that’s moving is his eyes, and they’re taking me in slowly. I’m utterly exposed, and somehow, I can almost feel him touch me with his eyes. Heat follows his gaze across my skin. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I’m bracing for him to yell at me. That’s stupid, I haven’t done anything wrong… right? But I’m breathing fast and shallow, waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

He tears his gaze away from me and narrows his eyes at Hunter. “What the fuck are you doing?”

There it is. I tense up, guiltily relieved that he’s turning his anger at Hunter rather than at me, although I feel like I deserve it just as much as he does. If either of us deserves it at all, that is. I’m expecting Hunter to snap back, I’m expecting a fight. Instead, Hunter chuckles. “I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

My mind bluescreens. Just like that? No cover up, no defensiveness, no anger? My heart rate steadies ever so slightly and I wait, watching for signs of trouble, waiting for passive aggression or weaponized words or worse.

Beau shakes his head. “You’re asking for trouble. This is messy. It’s stupid. What the fuck are you thinking?” His voice is rough and low, almost a growl, but it’s not what I was expecting. He’s just saying it straight. It’s confusing, but I’m here for it. Relief winds through me, allowing my arousal to escalate once more.

“It’s not a big deal,” Hunter says, running one hand slowly up my side. “It’s just sex. Nothing serious. We already agreed on that.” He turns his head, pressing his mouth to my ear, his hot breath rushing over me. “Isn’t that right, Goldilocks?”

He presses his fingers to my clit, rubbing little circles. A shockwave of pleasure rips through me in spite of the situation and I gasp. My body doesn’t care whether Beau is here or not. In fact, Beau’s presence is doing something to me. Something I can’t really explain, something that I’ve always sort of known. My own private fantasies are coming to life around me and I’m not ready for it, but my body is.

“Y-yeah.” I barely get it out. “J-just sex. Just a one-time thing. Oh, my god.” My head falls back against Hunter’s shoulder as he keeps up the pressure.

Hunter laughs low against my neck, his breath warm and inviting. He drops a kiss, then another, before he speaks. His voice vibrates against my skin. “Beau’s pissed.”

“I can see that,” I breathe. Beau doesn’t just look pissed. He looks like he’s determined to stay pissed. I’m not sure what the difference is, but my gut is telling me that there’s more than simple fury behind that burning look in his eyes.

Hunter drops his voice lower, then puts words to my gut feeling. “That’s not all he is. Look.”

I force my eyes to focus on Beau. He’s wearing loose sweatpants, just like Hunter was. I can see the shape of him under the light fabric, and it’s suddenly obvious. Beau is very, very hard. He’s turned on by this. Not by his brother, obviously… he’s turned on by me. That knowledge sends a rush of power through me. I did that. Me.

“He likes what he’s seeing,” Hunter says, his lips pressed against my neck. “Whether he admits it or not.”

He likes what he’s seeing. I knew he would, but I hadn’t let myself think about it. That little twitch of his cock against my back wasn’t my imagination. That was a fact, and the proof is right in front of me, casting a dark shadow against his brown sweats. I somehow get even wetter at the sight of it, and the knowledge that it was me who made that happen.