29. Snowed In
29
I t took us two hours to get off the highway and another few to drive around looking for a place to stay overnight. We stopped at four hotels before we finally found one with an available room. And there was only one left: the honeymoon suite.
"This is a joke, right?" I hissed at Chance. "Did you orchestrate this whole thing? You knew about the blizzard, and the clerk is in on it because you already booked the room and gave her a twenty to pretend she's never talked to you before. Was everything with Wayne a setup too? I knew it was weird he'd agree to meet with you only on Christmas Eve." I pointed a finger at Chance's face in the hotel lobby.
Chance grabbed my finger and calmly lowered it. "She's just hangry," he told the wide-eyed hotel clerk.
"So you want the room?" she squeaked, her eyes darting back and forth between Chance and me.
"Obviously we want the room," I snapped.
"Do you have room service?" Chance asked.
"The kitchen had to close because of the storm—short-staffed. So just vending machines." The girl pointed to an alcove next to the check-in desk.
I thought I might cry.
"Just the room then." Chance slid his ID and a credit card across the counter.
"I'll pay you back," I mumbled, not sure how, but determined to do so anyway.
Chance placed his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. "This is my fault. I'll take care of it. I'm sorry, Violet." He kissed the top of my head, and I let him.
There wasn't much to do to get settled in the spacious hotel room, as I hadn't expected Chance's surprise adventure to turn into an overnight trip.
Other than the size, the only thing that seemed to make it a honeymoon suite was the giant jacuzzi taking up half the bathroom. As would have been expected for a small hotel some ways off the interstate, much of the room was dated. The beige carpet had been vacuumed to oblivion, the remote sported duct tape on the back to keep the batteries in place, and the outlets near the bedside tables did not work.
But lucky for Chance and the hotel, I was far from picky. The sheets were clean (I could smell and feel the crisp remnants of bleach), the cable was working, and the water from the tap turned warm quickly enough. What more did you need from a quick overnight stop?
The door lock clicked, and a moment later Chance came in, his hands full. I hurried to help him with everything.
He had grabbed a spare gym bag, which included a change of clothes, from the trunk of his car. The front desk had toothbrushes and deodorant, and I had no idea how much money he'd spent on the mountain of food from the vending machines.
"It's not sparkling cider, but we could mix them together and try to pretend it tastes as good?" He held up two bottles of light beer in one hand and two bottles of apple juice in the other.
I couldn't help but laugh. It would probably taste disgusting, but his ingenuity impressed me.
"I'm sure nothing beats your mac and cheese, but the closest they had were a lot of cheese-flavored things." He pointed to the half a dozen bags of various chips, pretzels, and salty snacks.
"If we crunch up some chips and put them in with the ramen noodles"—he picked up the four Styrofoam cups of ramen noodles before setting them back down again—"it might be close enough?"
I stifled a laugh, amused by his effort and by just how far he was trying to stretch the vending machine food to fit within the parameters of my regular Christmas Eve activities. He was being so sweet, it continued to melt my resolve. "I'll probably just eat them separately though. I'm not a fan of soggy chips." I scooted to the edge of the bed, kneeling so we were almost at the same eye level.
"Right." He nodded. "They did, however, have hot chocolate packets. No milk, but we can use hot water from the coffee machine." He glanced over his shoulder to the small plastic machine sitting on top of the ancient mini fridge, which hummed so loudly you could hear it even when the heater was on.
"Come here." I crooked a finger at Chance.
He took a few paces forward to close the distance between us.
Once he was within reach, I wrapped my arms around his torso and leaned my head against his chest. "Thank you." I breathed him in. As usual, he smelled fresh and clean, but there was also the added scent of the snowfall from outside. It was heavenly.
He returned the embrace, resting his head on the top of mine. "I'm really sorry I ruined your Christmas Eve." His hand gently stroked up and down my back.
"You didn't ruin it," I sighed. "We'll just postpone everything until we can manage to get back." I looked up at him. "I'm just glad I'm not alone."
"Me too," Chance simpered. He traced the edge of my face with his finger, tucking my hair behind my ear, before leaning down to kiss me gently, just for a moment, then pulled back, not wanting to push me further than I was willing to go.
Although surprisingly, and maybe it was because we weren't at Montgomery, I found that I was willing to test those boundaries I had put up weeks ago.
"I'm sure we can find holiday movies on TV too," I added, trying to show him that I was calming down over the whole situation.
Chance smiled, opening one of the beers and taking a swig.
It had been dark for quite a while by the time we got settled. We ate cross-legged on the end of the bed, on top of the comforter, passing chip bags back and forth between each other. Chance had also procured an assortment of cookies from the vending machine. They tasted a little stale and definitely full of preservatives, but I didn't mind so much.
After the first movie, we were both starting to fade, so we decided to get ready for bed. Out of nowhere, the butterflies had returned in full force, considering there were two of us and only one bed.
"Do you have an extra shirt?" I worried my lip, nervously. I'd been in such a rush that morning, I hadn't put on anything underneath my hoodie, just my bra…which I also realized at that moment, I couldn't very well wear to bed.
"Catch." Chance tossed me a dark T-shirt across the bed.
"Thanks," I said before ducking into the bathroom. I tried not to look at myself in the large mirror, knowing whatever I found there, good, bad, or ugly, I'd pick it apart. The air in the hotel room was charged, as if it knew something was going to happen before we did, and I felt it too, that we were teetering on the edge of a precipice and that whatever happened that night, we'd pick which side we were going to land on.
When I walked out of the bathroom in nothing but Chance's shirt, which was at least long enough to hit my short frame at mid-thigh, covering a view of my underwear, Chance was on the far side of the bed, arranging some sort of makeshift bed on the floor.
"Chance…"
He looked up, gulping as he took me in from head to toe.
I immediately turned beet red. I didn't have to see myself to know. I could feel the heat pouring off me, under his scrutiny.
"You don't have to sleep on the floor," I said quietly, peeling back the covers on the side of the bed closer to me.
He seemed to mull over my words for a long moment, eyeing me cautiously, as if this was some sort of trap.
"Really?" he gave me one last out.
"Yeah."
Abandoning his nest, he grabbed the pillow he was planning on using and hopped up on the bed, a Cheshire grin adorning his stupid, handsome face.
"What?" I growled.
"I knew you wanted to cuddle. I said so this morning." He scooted under the covers, then flipped his light off, leaving the room in complete darkness, save for the sliver of light from the parking lot that streamed through a crack in the curtains.
I felt his warm hand reach out, pulling me against him. For a brief moment, it felt like an out-of-body experience, being surrounded by such warmth, feeling comfortable in his hold, and wanting to be held…only by Chance.
And then he had to go ruin it by continuing to joke around. "I thought you'd at least put up a fight," he murmured, his lips skimming the column of my neck, his breath hot on my skin.
I huffed in annoyance, which seemed to delight him. His lips took purchase around my pulse point, and my breath hitched at the sensation. Chance let one hand run down my side, only skimming the edge of my breast and finally coming to rest on my hip, which he used to pull me even closer at the same time that he pressed into me.
Feeling his erection between us, I couldn't help but let a soft moan escape as he continued his ministrations. "I'll kill you if you leave a mark," I muttered half-heartedly.
"Promises, promises." Chance laughed, sliding his hand back up, this time under the shirt I was wearing, splaying his searing palm over my rib cage, just shy of where I wanted him to touch me.
"Chance?"
"Hmm…"
My body was singing in his capable hands, and I didn't want to keep the boundaries up any longer. I wanted him, and I was sick of fighting it with everything inside me.
Why couldn't I let myself have this?
Why couldn't I let myself give in to him?
Would it really be so bad to let him in?
"Do you think…maybe because we're not at school…that their rules shouldn't count?" I whispered.
Chance froze.
I turned around, still half in his hold, to face him, even though I could barely make out the outline of his face in the dark. I reached out to him, cupping his face with my hand. "Just for one night? Maybe?" I faltered, still not sure what was going through his mind, without having the ability to analyze his expression.
"One night would never be enough for me, Violet," Chance finally spoke, his voice hesitant.
I closed my eyes, trying to figure out what he was trying to say and how to respond in a way that wouldn't make things worse somehow. "Maybe we could just start with tonight?" I offered.
I didn't want tonight to be the only night, but I didn't know how I'd feel when we got back to Montgomery. If my anxiety over what would come next hadn't been so overwhelming, I thought I might have given in to Chance a while ago.
"You're sure?" His voice came softly through the darkness. He was seemingly just as afraid as I was.
I thought about what to say, but decided it would be better if I showed him. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his, continuing to lead the charge when he parted his lips to let me deepen the kiss.
He tasted minty from the toothpaste. His kisses were urgent and just as heated as the rest of my body felt. Our hands roamed each other freely, unburdened by what had stopped us before.
As our desperation for more increased, Chance pulled away to gently roll onto his back, bringing me along with him. My leg hitched over his thigh, in just the right position for me to grind against, if only he'd bend his knee just slightly to give me the perfect angle to pursue the high I was after…and then he did.
I moaned with the glorious friction created by the subtle movement.
"Fuck, Violet," he cursed into my mouth. "Keep doing that."
I felt Chance's fingers skating over the sensitive skin at my hip, just above my panties, and then he ran his fingers over the hem. "Vi—can I—please?" His words were breathless as we continued to move together to chase our respective pleasure.
I tilted my hips up, silently granting him permission to touch me where I needed him most. His fingers tickled against my pussy before he skimmed them along the seam for only one pass before dipping them into the liquid heat I was sure he would find there.
"Baby, you're so wet for me," he groaned into my neck.
Wanting to touch him too, I let my hand graze his dick, over his boxers, feeling his muscles tighten as he drew in a sharp breath.
"I need to touch you first, or I'll get too distracted," Chance asserted, plunging two fingers inside of me, causing me to arch against him.
I felt myself speaking, but the words that came forth were nonsense—I was already so far gone.
"Have you been thinking about what it would be like for me to get you off?" he whispered, low and dirty.
I could only moan in response as he continued to drive me closer and closer to the edge.
"You're all I can think about," he confessed. "I dream of all the things I want to do to you." Chance paused, his motions ceasing.
I cried out in frustration.
Our eyes met, even in the dark. "You want me to do those things to you, don't you?"
"Please," I keened, seeking the pressure of his fingers, never so desperate for touch as I was in that moment with Chance.
"God, I love hearing you beg, Violet."
He circled my clit while I writhed against him, and all it took was for him to assert just the perfect amount of pressure with his thumb for me to spiral into the abyss, crying out as I shattered against him. He continued to use his fingers to help me prolong the sensation. As with everything else, Chance knew exactly what I needed at that moment.
I'd never come so quickly before, and it was the first time someone had gotten me off without me asking first. Chance had proven himself to be nothing if not a gentleman.
He had only just slipped his fingers from my panties when I made a move to pull his boxers down, freeing his hard cock from its confines. He released a low and heady groan as my hand encircled him at the base, gently running it up and down the length.
"You don't—have to," he choked out.
I had learned by now that Chance would always give me an out, but he should have learned by now that I wasn't going to take it. What he couldn't have predicted was when I moved down the bed slightly, making it easier for me to take him into my mouth.
"Oh fuck…" Chance grunted.
I didn't think I'd ever had the desire to give any of the guys I dated head, but there was something about the noises Chance made, how he had insisted on making me come first, and how sweet he had been for weeks, going out of his way to make me comfortable, but making sure I knew he was still very much interested.
I wanted Chance to feel good, and I wanted to be the one to do it.
What I couldn't fit in my mouth, I used my hand to stroke, occasionally grazing his balls, if only to hear the guttural grumble that would emit from Chance as a result. He muttered encouragingly, stroking his hand softly down my back, occasionally pausing when something I did felt particularly good.
Bobbing and sucking and swirling my tongue around the tip, I went back and forth, driving Chance into a frenzy. Eventually he was so incensed that he had to remove his hands from me entirely, clenching the sheets in his fists, trying to hold on for as long as he could.
"I'm going to come," Chance ground out, giving me enough time to pull back. I gentled my strokes as he spilled his release on his stomach, stilling only when his fingertips grazed my hand in a silent request to stop the motion.
We both sat there for a moment, panting and dazed. Already what we'd done felt surreal.
Chance reached out to me, coaxing me into another slow and sensual kiss. It was as if there were a million things we both wanted to say and think, but letting our lips do the talking was a much better option and seemed to say more than words ever could in that moment.
Chance's kiss reassured and calmed me, telling me that he was in this, that he was going to take care of me, and that I meant something to him.
God, I felt it.
He kissed me like I belonged to him and he'd fight to keep me. That was the kind of thing I'd been searching for my entire life.
And in my kiss, I let Chance take the lead, communicating that I was in this with him, and was fighting my instincts to pull away. I was fighting for him…for us. And I fought for his kisses and his adoration and his kindness. I needed him to understand that I saw him for who he was…who he truly was, on the inside, not the facade he'd been forced to hide behind under his father's watchful eye. I saw him and I wanted him, just as he was.
Pulling back, breathless, Chance said softly, "We should clean up."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure if he could see me, but he seemed to comprehend nonetheless. He made quick work of himself in the bathroom, leaving the light on for me when he returned.
Again I avoided looking at my reflection, unsure of what I would see there. But when I got back in bed, Chance tugged me closer, pulling me into his arms. His embrace, just like his heartbeat, was warm, strong, and steady.
"You are fucking everything," he breathed, combing his fingers through my hair, my head resting against his chest.