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“Don’t bother with the tea. I brought a bottle of Southern Comfort.” His hands shook as he attempted, with little success, to tackle the buttons on his soggy flannel shirt. “We are in the South, after all.”
“I’m not sure West Virginia classifies as the South. It’s really sort of the middle. Here, let me.” Pulling his trembling hands away, she quickly unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. His skin was ice to the touch. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t catch pneumonia or frostbite,” she said, unable to resist one more scold. “Come stand by the fire.” Taking his icy hands in hers, she rubbed them lightly. “I’ll get a blanket for you. Stay here and try to get warm.”
Crossing the room, she retrieved a fleece blanket from the foot of the bed as Ross struggled with the button and zipper on his damp jeans.
“I’ll do that,” she said, concerned for his health. His hands were still trembling and looked blood red and chapped. No doubt he’d lied about how long he’d really been roaming around in the snow and wind.
“Jules,” he started to object, but she had already worked the button free and was tackling the zipper, concern distracting her from exactly what she was offering to do.
When she had the jeans undone, she grabbed the waistband and started to pull the clinging denim off his legs. The task was harder than she would have thought, but sheer determination and worry kept her going. She struggled for several minutes, working the material down his muscular legs, stopping only to pull off his boots and socks, before finally peeling the jeans completely off.
“There,” she exclaimed, looking up into Ross’s suddenly pained face. Her mouth went dry as she realized that during her exertions she’d knelt in front of him and was now eye level with his barely clad cock straining through the material of his silk boxer shorts.
This part of him certainly gave new meaning to the term “frozen stiff”.
“I—” she stumbled, unwilling to take her eyes off his very large appendage. She was sure she’d never seen anything quite so big and her curiosity outweighed her embarrassment.
“My God,” she whispered, awestruck as the monstrous cock seemed to grow even larger before her eyes. Without a thought, she reached up and nearly touched it before a growl above her and a strong hand on her wrist stopped her.
“Brown Eyes,” Ross said, his deep voice flowing over her like honey, “if you don’t move away from that this minute, I’ll keep you kneeling there the rest of the night.”
Gasping, Julia rose quickly, painfully aware she was not as averse to his threat as she should be. She’d never sucked on a man’s cock before, had never even wanted to until she’d read those damned erotic novels Ross had given her. Now all she could think about was trying to give him a blowjob. Lord, she was losing her mind.
“I’ll get you something to eat,” she muttered, escaping to the far side of the cabin.
Chapter Two
Ross watched his brown-eyed angel flutter across the room to the kitchen, obviously hoping to escape. The main reason he loved this cabin was because it was a whole house contained in one large room. The roomy kitchen was separated from the rest of the room by a long bar and it contained everything needed to make someone’s stay special. An extra-large refrigerator, microwave, convection oven and dishwasher made sure visitors wouldn’t starve or slave.
On the opposite wall of the cabin was the tall king-sized oak bed, with a matching dresser, chest and wardrobe. In the center of the room was the large living area, complete with an oversized couch and two easy chairs facing the big stone fireplace, a huge bearskin rug on the floor in front and a double-sided partner desk, one side of which Jules had clearly claimed as her laptop and notes rested there.
The only other room in the cabin was the adjoining bathroom with a large Jacuzzi tub and double-headed shower stall.
It was a lover’s paradise. Ross had known the moment he laid eyes on it he would buy it and bring Jules here. For the first time in their decade-long relationship, his favorite author would have no escape—not from him or his plans for seduction.
He watched as his skittish kitten dropped the fork she was using to flip the ham steaks she’d hastily thrown into a cast-iron skillet. Grinning, he admired her luscious backside as she bent to pick it up.
God, she was perfect.
Ross shook his head, amazed to think he’d been blind to her beauty for so many years. He and Jules had rocketed to the top of their respective fields together. They had climbed the ladder of success side by side and foolishly, Ross had wasted the first few years of their relationship treating her like a little sister. Studying her now, he was feeling anything but brotherly.
His feelings for her hadn’t changed overnight, but rather evolved gradually after the unsavory incident between Jules and Scott Jenkins. Watching Julia flirt and make eyes at the asshole accountant had nearly driven him out of his mind that night. He’d never seen her show any interest in another man and the image of her showering all her lovely smiles and lilting laughter on someone else was more than he could stand. Jealousy, in regard to Jules, was a new emotion for him and it took him by surprise.
Of course, it didn’t help that she was wearing a sheer red blouse and black velvet skirt shorter than he’d ever seen her in. He was used to seeing her in her tomboy outfits—jeans and T-shirts. Yet that night, she’d obviously taken special pains with her appearance—even wearing makeup and pulling her lovely brown hair up in a chignon, allowing a few wisps to frame her face. Ross’s fingers itched during the whole party to yank her upstairs, take her hair down, pull his hands through it and watch it trail over her shoulders.
When he saw her fighting Scott on the bed, her eyes wide with fear, he was overwhelmed with an anger more intense than any he’d ever felt before. For the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to want to physically hurt another person. Hell, to kill another person. He would gladly have ripped Scott Jenkins to pieces for touching Julia against her will.
Later, when he realized she’d willingly gone to the bedroom with Scott, he’d been eaten alive with jealousy. The only man he wanted in her bed was him.
Somewhere along the line his little Julia had blossomed into a true beauty. Her wavy chestnut hair framed a heart-shaped face and emphasized her large whiskey-colored eyes. Her body was every man’s wet dream with firm, large breasts, a narrow waist and shapely hips a man could grab onto as he plunged into her.
Despite the unexpected revelations of that night, he continued to fight his growing attraction to his sexy romance writer, dismissing it as a passing fancy, a strange quirk of fate. For all intents and purposes, she was an innocent and his sexual desires needed an experienced woman, one who could handle his darker appetites. Jules did not fit that bill.
Unfortunately, the women who could handle him in the bedroom, women like Bridget, were complete bitches out of bed. For the last few years he’d managed to convince himself he preferred his eligible-bachelor status, hopping from one casual, sex-only relationship to another, while getting the female companionship he craved from his best friend, Jules.
Every now and then guilt would get the better of him and he’d convince himself he was being selfish with Julia, trying to keep her in a little box—his own exclusive friend, his own private fantasy. She would make a hell of a wife for some lucky bastard, even if it couldn’t be him.
He tried more than once to set her up with other guys, but at the last minute, he’d panicked and found the worst possible man for her. After forcing her to endure several mismatches, he didn’t have the stomach to try any more blind dates for fear one of his setups might actually take.
