It was bright outside when I woke up—almost blinding. I looked out the window but didn’t see anything—nothing but the wall of white completely covering the window from bottom to top.

“Oh no,” I said when the realization dawned on me. I scrambled out of bed, leaving the room to look out the large windows at the front of the house. There was a little more visibility, but mostly all there was to see was a wall of endless white.

“Storm came early,” Lucas said from behind me and I froze, my body going tense. I turned to him.

“Looks like we’re stuck here,” he said, an amused half-grin on his face. The look made my heart flutter in my chest, something that annoyed me and made me even angrier. I didn’t want to feel soft towards him. I needed to be strong and go on the offensive.

“No,” I said, then again more loudly. “No, Lucas. I want you out. Now.”

“Ellie, I can’t—”

“I will shovel the snow myself,” I said, marching over to the hall closet where I threw open the door to find my coat. I shrugged it on, cursing inwardly when I realized that it didn’t quite close over my belly. I didn’t think I’d gained that much weight already and hoped again that Lucas wouldn’t notice. He watched me as I put on my coat but if he could tell that it didn’t fit, he didn’t say anything.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said, crossing his arms. “It’s a full mile to the road from here. You’re going to shovel a mile of snow that high?”

“Yes,” I said simply, knowing it sounded impossible. I didn’t care. I would do anything to get Lucas out of here—it was painful having him around. Painful because of how tempting he was to me, because the way he looked at me was filled with a love that I couldn’t return after what he had done. I pulled on a pair of gloves and started to march outside, but he stepped in front of me and pressed his back to the door, blocking me in.

“Let me do it,” he said, putting his hand out to take the snow shovel. “I’ll do it.”

I stared at him, pushing past him instead, too angry to say anything. When I tried to push the front door open, it was stuck, frozen shut. I slammed my body against it, hoping to jar it open, to press the snow outward, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll try,” he said, and I moved out of the way for him. He pushed against the door but it wouldn’t move. I moved over to the window, pulled the blinds open and looked out to see that a snowdrift at least two feet high was blocking the door from the outside. I cursed, grabbing the shovel again and going around to the back door. I was relieved when it opened, but quickly realized it would only go about a foot before it got stuck in the snow. I didn’t care; I started to shovel there, digging myself a tunnel out of the snow so I could start to unjam the door. It was hard work and I was freezing, but with each shovelful I dug up I felt angrier and angrier.

“Ellie,” came Lucas’s voice behind me. “This is impossible. You’ve made it ten feet in almost an hour.”

“I don’t care,” I shouted, kicking at the snow, pummeling it with my toe until a small avalanche dumped snow into my shoes. I shook it off and continued to shovel, disregarding his hand on my shoulder.

“Come inside, Ellie,” he said softly, his free hand reaching for the shovel. I used it to shove him away from me but he grabbed it firmly in his hands, pulling it away from me and tossing it on the ground behind him.

“You want to hit me?” he asked, looking into my eyes. “Do you want to fight with me? Is that what this is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, putting my hands to his chest and shoving him backward. He stayed where he was, covering my hands with his, holding them against his chest. His eyes were soft but hot on my face as I tried to pull away.

“Come inside and fight me then,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “You know this snow isn’t going anywhere. Come inside.”

I shook my head and had opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off by lifting me over his shoulder like a doll and carrying me inside. I beat on his back hopelessly and he set me down once we got in the kitchen. By that time, I was raging, wanting to hit him even more than I had before.

“You’re allowed to be angry, angel,” he said softly. “But I’m not going to let you be stupid.”

“Fuck off,” I said to him, turning around, but he moved in front of me before I could walk out. I had to take a deep breath when I found myself close to him; I found myself breathing him in, basking in the familiar scent of his cologne and his skin. It filled me with a rush of emotions that paralyzed me so that I couldn’t move.

“Listen, Ellie,” he said, looking down into my eyes, holding me captivated there as the desire rushed through me. “You can hit me. You can do whatever you want to me. But you can’t just walk out of here.”

“Why not?” I asked him, my voice trembling. “Why can’t I just go, Lucas?”

He lifted his hand then, placing it on my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw with his thumb. I allowed him to touch me for a moment, closing my eyes and leaning into him.

“Are you going to hit me?” he asked when I looked up into his eyes again. “Or do you want to play cards?”

“Cards?” I asked, caught off-guard by the question.

“Yes,” he said, taking a step back from me, his body going from tense to casual as he leaned against the door. “We have some time to pass. Why don’t we play cards?”

I stared at him, opening my mouth to speak but not finding any words. He grinned at me then and I felt something within me melt. I wasn’t going to smile at him, wasn’t going to touch him, but if he insisted that we pass the time together I supposed that something wholesome and boring like cards would be the perfect, neutral way to spend it.

“Fine,” I said in a short voice, and his grin grew even wider. I glared at him. “Stop it,” I said.

“What?” he asked, the look on his face playful, teasing.

“Stop smiling,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

He tried to stifle his grin, but in the end, had to rely on covering his mouth with his hand. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, following me out of the kitchen and into the front room.

I opened the wooden trunk that sat at one end of the couch, one I knew contained some old games the previous owner had left behind. They were dusty and faded, but I pulled out a deck of cards that looked like it hadn’t been used in years and pulled them out of the box. I turned around to hand them to Lucas when I realized he was standing close to me, my face level with the front of his jeans. I looked up, meeting his eye, frozen there as he looked down at me. He gave me a grin that told me that we were both thinking the same thing. I blushed, standing up quickly, and went over to the table. He sat down across from me and started shuffling the cards.

“What are we playing?” I asked him.

“What do you know how to play?”

“Nothing,” I said.

He gave a soft laugh. “Are you going to be this difficult all day, Ellie?”

“Yes,” I said, meeting his eye.

“Good,” he said. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Good?”

“I like a little bit of a challenge,” he said.

“Do you?” I asked, fighting back a smile. I didn’t want to indulge him, didn’t want to let his charm get to me. It was hard to stay cold looking at his face but I’d vowed to do so no matter what.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “Now, do you know how to play gin?”

“I know how to play go-fish,” I told him.

He laughed. “Is that all?”

“Pretty much,” I said to him, crossing my arms. “Is that not what you had in mind?”

He stared at me, studying my features. “Go-fish is perfect.”

“Fine,” I said as he started dealing the cards. I picked mine up and looked at him over the tops, saw that he was very seriously arranging his cards in a certain order, as if he were playing a high-stakes game of poker. It was hard not to laugh, so I looked away from him and down at my cards, none of which were matching. He laid down two matches right off the bat.

“You cheated,” I said accusingly. He laughed, putting his hands up to show his innocence.

“I did not,” he said. “I just got lucky.”

“That’s two times you’ve been lucky today,” I said. “Looks like it’s a good day for you.”

“Do you call being threatened with a shovel a lucky incident?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Because that’s not the word I’d use for it.”

“You were lucky that I didn’t actually hit you with it,” I said.

He held my eye, his gaze full of amusement. “Fair enough,” he said. “Do you have a heart?”

“What?” I asked, my heart speeding up for some reason.

“The cards,” he said, not looking away from my face. “Do you have a heart?”

“That’s not how you play this game,” I said to him, swallowing.

“So tell me how to play this game we’re playing,” he said to me. “Tell me the rules, Ellie.”

“You should know,” I said. “That’s what you do, play games.”

He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t say anything. I took a deep breath, wanting to run but frozen there by the look in his eye, the tension in the room.

“What do you want from me?” I asked him. “Why did you come here?”

“To explain myself,” he said. “That’s it. I didn’t—I wasn’t expecting you to give me anything afterward.”

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You can’t say you didn’t hope you’d apologize and we’d end up right back in bed.”

“I can’t say that,” he said. “You’re right. I did hope we’d be in bed right now.”

“It’s not going to happen,” I told him, though my voice felt dry and weak.

“I know,” he said, smiling. He looked down at my lips. “If we did, there’s no way you could pretend to be as cold as you’re being right now.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know it. I’ve seen your face when we’re in bed, Ellie. You’re anything but cold.”

“That was before,” I said.

“So now you think it would be different?” he asked, an amused smile on his face. “You think I couldn’t make you lose control of that whole ice queen thing you’ve got going on?”

“No.”

“I think I could,” he said. “I think it would be easy.”

I squirmed in my seat, flooded with images of all the previous times we’d been in bed together, how good it had felt to lose control.

“How?” I asked him, knowing how dangerous the question was. The word slipped from my lips before he could stop it, fueled by a desire that was fanned by the look in his eye, almost dangerous.

“Let me show you,” he said.

I shook my head.

“So you just want me to tell you?” he asked. “You want me to talk dirty to you, baby girl?”

I didn’t answer, but held his eye as my whole body flushed with desire and embarrassment. I hated that I was letting things go in this direction, and yet I craved his words almost as much as I craved his touch. I knew I couldn’t give myself to him, but it didn’t hurt to imagine what it would be like to give in to the fire that was burning in my core. He leaned over the table, peering at me intently.

“I don’t think it would take much to make you melt, Ellie,” he said. “I think if I touched your little pussy right now, even just lightly, you would come within minutes. That’s how bad you want it.”

“No, I don’t,” I protested. He smiled at me, put his finger to my lips.

“You told me to talk,” he said. “I want to tell you what I’m going to do to you tonight.”

“We’re not—”

“Quiet,” he said in a voice laced with command. I closed my mouth, staring at him, unable to speak even if I wanted to fight back. “I think what I want to do first is eat your pussy on this table,” he said, running his hand over the wood. “Sit you up here, spread your legs real wide. First, I’d lick all the come from your thighs so that you make that sound I love, the one you make when you’re frustrated.”

I didn’t answer, but stared at him, captivated by his words. I was hot all over, having trouble controlling my breathing as I listened to him speak in his deep, melodic voice.

“Are you wet right now?” he asked. “I bet your panties are soaked.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, embarrassed because it was true. My pussy felt swollen and flushed, desperate to be touched. He chuckled and took my hand on the table, flipping it over and tracing my palm with his fingers.

“You’re shaking,” he said. “Do you want me to go on or are you ready to go upstairs?”

“I’m not having sex with you,” I told him, though my voice didn’t come out as adamantly as I wanted it to.

“Baby, I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said. “I want to fuck you. I want to make love to you and make you come. Sex isn’t the point.”

“Then how—”

“I’m going to have you wrapped around my cock,” he promised, “for a long, long time. But first I just want to touch you.”

“Tell me,” I said to him, almost begging.

He shook his head. “I want something from you first,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What is it?”

“I want a kiss,” he said. I opened my mouth to protest but he put his hand up. “Nothing deep. Just an innocent kiss, then I’ll tell you what you want to hear.”

“Lucas—”

“One kiss, Ellie,” he said, leaning into me, his lips only a few inches from mine. “Just one.”

I closed the gap between our mouths then, desperation moving me forward. His lips closed over mine and lingered against them, wanting to go deeper. I sucked on his bottom lip, hungry for him—starving. He pulled away before I lost control completely, leaving me suspended with my lips parted, my eyes closed. I opened them to see a sly smile on his face.

“Perfect,” he said softly. “Now, where were we?”

“You said—you said you wanted to touch me,” I said, hardly able to breathe.

“Yes,” he said. “I want to touch you all over. I want to taste your breasts again, play with your nipples. Remember how good that feels, baby?”

“Yes,” I said, the feeling vivid in my mind. His tongue teasing the sensitive bud, toying with it, making me wetter and wetter.

“Good,” he said. “I want you to remember. I want you to remember what it feels like when you’re naked underneath me.”

“It feels good,” I told him. “So good.”

“It does. The only thing better is when I’m deep inside of that tight little pussy.”

I almost moaned then and stood up from my chair. “I have to go,” I said, trying not to look at him.

“Can’t handle it, Ellie?” he asked. “Feel like you’re starting to melt for me?”

“I don’t—” I said. “Lucas…”

“Come here,” he said, his voice gruff as he put his hands on my waist, pulling me down so I was straddling his lap on the chair. His cock was hard underneath my pussy, and I could almost feel it throbbing through the layers of our clothes. I tried to keep my hips still, tried to keep from grinding against him. I bit my lip, bewitched by the look in his eye as his hands ran up my back, holding me close.

“I don’t have to fuck you,” he said, his face in my neck. “If you just let me make you come, I’ll be happy.”

“No,” I whimpered, though my hips had started to move against my will. My clit was rubbing against the length of his cock through his jeans, and the simple touch felt so good that I felt myself losing control. He put his hands on my hips and started to guide them in a rhythm, lifting his against mine to grind against me. I was looking into his eyes, letting myself go, unable to stop as I allowed my climax to build and build.

“Are you going to come, Ellie?” he asked. I couldn’t respond to him as I buried my face in his neck, moaning against the skin there. I shuddered, about to hit the peak when he stopped me and lifted me from his lap. I stared down at him, my hair on my face.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not playing games with you,” he said, bringing his hands to my face. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, pulling away from him and crossing my arms.

“It means I want you to give yourself to me. I want you naked. I want every part of you.”

“You had every part of me,” I snapped at him, beginning to grow angry all over again. “And then you fucking disappeared.”

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, knowing that my voice was raised and out of control. “Just leave me alone until the snow melts, okay? I’m going upstairs.”

“Ellie—” he said, but I’d already turned to go up to my room. My body was shaking, on edge from arousal and anger both. I felt stupid for getting so worked up, for falling into his trap so hard that it had made me lose my mind for a moment. I sat on the bed, trying not to think about it, trying to force my body to calm down.