“My turn,” she said, reaching into her purse and grabbing a pack of tissues before she could think too much about how cold the air would be on her bare ass and how much she’d have to struggle with the layers to get her ass bare in the first place.
When she returned from outside, Marc had scrunched up some clothes into a softer duffel and set it on one end of the bench seat. She climbed in, and for a few seconds, they stared alternately at each other and at the narrow space of the seat. Then he shrugged and scooted around until he was lying on his side, his back against the back of the seats and arms open for her to spoon with him. Pushing down her competing hesitation and desire, she crawled next to him, fitting her butt against his crotch and her head so that his arm was under her neck. To seal the deal, she pulled the small blanket over them.
“Well.” His breath danced across the back of her neck as he whispered the word. His mouth must be right above her ear. Maybe if he pursed his lips and leaned a little forward, he could nibble on her ear.
She liked when men nibbled on her ear . . .
“This is tight, but it’s not too bad,” he said. “Think we can last the night?”
Between the awkward pillow and his arm, her neck was turned at a strange angle and she’d have the mother of all cricks in the morning. His legs were too long for the seat, and he’d compensated by draping one leg over her. She was completely cocooned in him.
Breathing deeply, she waited for the moment of panic to strike. The moment when she felt trapped, worried that he would take advantage of her, that she wouldn’t be able to escape or stop him. But the moment never came. Her breath slowed without her even trying to force it. She wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she was warm and safe, which was more than she’d felt in months.
“This will be great,” she said, closing her eyes. “Good night. And thank you.”
*
Marc woke up with an erection. And not regular morning wood, either. His face was full of the floral smell of a woman’s hair and his arms were hugging a soft, curvy body. He was warm. Hot, even, which he hadn’t expected, but the ski clothing, blanket, seats, and Selina’s body were providing more than enough heat to combat the cold. Even his face, which was buried in Selina’s neck, was warm. He lifted his head to get her hair out of his nose before he sneezed and woke her.
Sunlight beamed in through the back windows, glinting off Selina’s pale hair. He propped himself up on his elbow so that he could get a look at her. Her face, which had been tight even when she was laughing, had relaxed in sleep. Her jaw was soft, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was snoring quietly.
She was so beautiful. He’d already liked the look of her when she was sour and serving him breakfast, but the pretty waitress was no comparison to the sleeping woman. This was what she was supposed to look like when she wasn’t worried about her physical safety, or money, or where she was going to sleep at night.
He noticed the moment she woke up because her eyelids fluttered. And then she stiffened. His erection hadn’t gotten any less prominent while he’d been admiring the way her lashes fell on her cheeks.
“You warm enough?” he asked, deciding that the best course of action was to pretend he wasn’t sporting a boner. He didn’t think she was actually afraid of him, but she was skittish and, from what she’d told him of her home life, she had good reason to be.
“Overly so.”
At least she wasn’t rushing to get away from him. And she wasn’t moving his top arm away, so he kept it—and the leg he had draped over her—right where they were.
“Sleep okay?”
Her mouth curved into a slight smile. “Yeah. Once I fell asleep, I slept like a rock.”
“It’s sunny,” he said stupidly. “The storm has passed.”
She laughed, blinking. “I can see that.”
Her stomach growled. “I wonder where the nearest coffee and donuts are. Where are we?”
“Still don’t know.” He shifted as well as he could, stretching his arm out in front of them. Scooting to straighten out his knees, he bumped her forward a bit. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I should move. I’m pretty sure my foot is asleep. Or it ran away in the middle of the night. One of the two. And I need to pee.”
“Right.” He held on to her until the count of ten, then opened his arms and she climbed to sitting up as best as she could.
The side of her face that had been resting on the duffel had a massive, deep wrinkle running across her cheek from her ear to the corner of her mouth. She had sleep in the corners of both eyes and a little mark of white drool that met up with the wrinkle. She looked like she had slept well, and he was sure he didn’t look much better. After a good night’s sleep his hair usually looked like loosened coils of brown yarn.
At least it distracted from the morning breath that had him wanting to smack his mouth.