Chapter 3

Finn

I felt frustrated beyond belief at my circumstances, and that wasn’t something I tolerated often. I had people who took care of things. It was my job never to look back. The girl was obviously in deep shit—she was quivering like a martini shaker and now she’d fallen asleep. I knew that wasn’t good. I couldn’t say I was feeling all that warm myself.

She was limp and malleable in her sleep; at least that much was good. I pulled back the stadium blanket, hoping it hadn’t soaked up too much of the dampness from her clothes. Her hand was lying on her lower belly, the effort to lower the zipper obviously more than she could manage. I began, instead, with her blouse, as it was a lighter-weight material and I could pull off what was left of it more quickly. I’d already ripped it when I listened for her heartbeat outside the shack.

I glanced back toward the burning building and could see it was about to collapse. It had been perhaps a century old and most likely was somebody’s hunting shack, which would account for why it wasn’t maintained. It looked as invitingly warm as a giant campfire, but there was no way I was taking her back there.

I bent forward and pulled at her buttons, some of which popped their threads and spilled to the car floor. Reaching behind her neck, I pulled her upright to lie against my chest as I unsnapped her bra and pulled it, along with the remaining cloth of her blouse, off in one movement. That was when I saw the bruise on the back of her neck, just below her hairline. I frowned; she’d been hit from behind.

She fell back as I released her, and I felt myself go hard as I viewed her. Her skin was the color of light butter toffee, smooth with the moisture that came naturally with good health. Her dark, mahogany hair lay in damp soft curls almost to her waist and its color was echoed in even, natural brows and thick eyelashes. Her mouth was very kissable—a bit pouty with a full bottom lip that revealed small, virginally white teeth. Her breasts were perfectly shaped for my hands, full and rounded. Her nipples were perfect buds that invited me to suck them.

She wore a necklace, one of those pendants that girls wore with their first name. E-l-s-p-e-t-h, it spelled.

I shook my head to clear my lustful reverie, reminding myself that she was in trouble. My hands froze as I realized her jeans were next. Buying time, I pulled off her leather boots and socks, which were entirely inadequate for this climate, but then who was I to be critical in my dress shoes?

My fingers shook a bit as I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down that zipper. As it lowered, it revealed a pair of soft pink lace panties; the reveal was like a stage curtain opening to a pristine world of innocence. I coaxed the jeans downward, revealing the apex between her legs. The nylon of her panties was wet and her mound of soft hair perfectly outlined. It took everything I had not to put my hand over it—to penetrate its entrance with my fingertip.

I had to move her onto my lap to pull the jeans completely off. It took not a second’s consideration to pull the pink panties with them and with a sense of awe, I realized she was limp, naked, and completely spread before me. Her one leg dropped to the floor, opening her to my full view. God help me.

Grabbing the stadium blanket, I wrapped it around her as best as I could and reached over her to drape her clothing on the hanger hook over the window. They would catch warm air from the vent that way and eventually dry.

I moved her back to the seat, because my own clothes were soaked. I looked at her longingly but I had to find some help, so I pulled away and climbed back into the front seat.

Throwing it into gear, I hit the gas… and while it began to inch sideways, we weren’t moving forward. “Damn!” I rammed the lever upward into reverse and gave it gas. Nothing… but the sound of spinning tires. “Fuck!” I crawled out and surveyed the wheels, but the vehicle had slid off the shoulder and was solidly embedded. The snow was growing in depth at an unbelievable rate. I could barely make out the roadway; it had become a uniform blanket of depth. I got back behind the wheel and tried to rock the car, but it wouldn’t move free. We were stuck.

I knew she was in trouble, and I was headed in the same direction. I had less than a third tank of gas and there was no telling when someone would drive by. The road, in my opinion, was probably impassable. We were just going to be there for a while. In the darkness with no moon and nothing to light us—not to mention that we were in a white vehicle—we were an unmovable target.

I was shivering and needed to get my own clothes off. Glancing over the seat into the back, I knew the only thing I could do for her was to share body heat. I told myself that was wisdom and not lust, but neither logic argued, so I gave in.

Unbuckling my belt and my pants, I slid them off quickly, including the silk boxers my last girlfriend, Mariah, had given me for Christmas. How ironic that I wore them the first time when Mariah was not there to enjoy them. My shirt and t-shirt followed within seconds and now we were both completely naked.

I crawled into the back with the girl, Elspeth, and maneuvered her against my body, wrapping the stadium blanket over us. I would have preferred to lie on the top, but was afraid I’d crush her; she was probably less than half my weight. I decided to turn so she was facing me, and we were both on our hips. I took the outside and sandwiched her between my naked body and the back seat. I couldn’t help it; no matter how cold I was, I had a full erection at the touch of her skin against mine.

I lay there, aching with the need to explore her vulnerable body and whatever sense of honor that remained in me struggling to come up with a game plan. Without more gas, rationing would have to begin soon. There was no way to anticipate how long we’d be stuck there. Water, obviously, was not going to be a problem. I had a fifth of Jim Beam in the back—an element of my party provisions for Jay’s house. I remembered, though, that you should never give someone alcohol when hypothermia was a danger—something about it slowing the heart and making the effects of the cold speed up.

The vehicle was nicely warm and eventually I quit shivering. I knew that at the rate the snow was falling, our tailpipe would get covered and we could get asphyxiated. Eventually, I would have to pull on my damp clothes, climb out, and clear it. I’d also have to begin rationing the gas, turning the Escalade off about every ten minutes.

“I’m so cold,” came her soft voice against my chest. “Please, can you warm me up?”

I rolled my eyes at the implications I wished she meant, but I knew she hadn’t. At least she was awake now, so that was a good sign.

“Hey, there,” I told her, my voice low with need for her. “I was afraid I’d lost you.” I pulled her head against my chest. I could smell the smoke in her hair, but it was velvety soft. “You’re going to be fine. I had to take off your wet clothes, but they’re hanging up to dry now.”

“Why aren’t you wearing clothes?” came her soft, but completely understandable question.

“I got wet, too. I packed snow in my shirt when I ran into the fire to pull you out. They’re up front. Are you okay… with this?” I asked, indicating our nakedness, as if she had a choice.

She mirrored my thoughts. “Do I have a choice?”

“No, guess not.” I tried to smile. “I see your name is Elspeth. I’m Finn.”

“I guess so.”

“What do you mean? Your name isn’t Elspeth?”

“That sounds familiar,” she said, wiggling against me to get closer. If I had been shrinking down below, that was no longer the case.

The question of the moment was not the state of my erection, but her confusion. “Is your name Elspeth or not?”

She shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

She shook her head against my chest.

“Do you know your last name?”

She shrugged again.

“What were you doing in that shack?”

There was no movement. I pulled back and her eyes were wide as they looked up at me.

“You don’t know?”

“No,” she whispered, tears wetting her eyes as she realized evidently that she was lost in more than one way. “What’s the matter with me? Why don’t I remember?” she asked, her voice emotional and on the verge of a real cry.

I quickly pulled her head back against my chest and patted it, suddenly remembering. “You have a bruise on the back of your head, at the top of your neck. Do you know how it got there? Did you fall? Run into something?”

She said nothing for a few moments and repeated, “I don’t know.”

I wanted desperately to believe that she was telling me the truth and not hiding something she knew would piss me off. I patted the back of her head reassuringly again. “Don’t worry. It’ll come back to you. Probably just a little stunned from all you’ve been through. We won’t worry about that now,” I resolved aloud.

She seemed to accept this and it caused a niggling suspicion in me that she might be glad I’d dropped it. It didn’t matter; there were more pressing matters at hand. “Okay, look, I need to climb up front and try one more time to get us unstuck. If I can’t, I’m going to get out and make sure the tailpipes are clear. Otherwise, we’ll gas ourselves. In a while, I’ll have to shut off the car and conserve the fuel. Don’t know how long we could be stuck here. This blizzard doesn’t look like a temporary thing.”

She nodded against my chest. In the glow of the instrument panel, I saw her look up at me again, as if sizing up my inclination to hurt her in some way.

“It’ll be okay, I swear,” I said and wondered when I’d begun giving a shit about another person.