Chapter 3
Leif
All I wanted for the winter solstice was quiet. Snow. Hot cocoa. A fire in the fireplace.
What I got was the voluntold job of Santa and a pounding headache from all the chit-chat, laughter, and kid squeals from the party.
Now, as I crawl to a stop in front of my small home in the middle of the first blizzard of the season, I have an unwanted visitor.
Sigh, just my luck. I didn’t bother to ask why the hell she was hiding in my truck.
Because at the moment we almost went off the road, it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was making it home safely.
My home is just outside of town. This has its pluses and minus. Fewer nosy neighbors and people. But also less likely to get the snowplow out here anytime soon. Which means, if this snow keeps up, my stowaway is going to be my guest for a couple of days.
Once I get the back door of the truck open, she hands me a blanket and a big bag. I take them and hold out a hand for her. “I’ve got it,” she says with a slight attitude. She ignores my hand and hops down, only to sink to her hips in the snow. Alright then.
I wade through the snow to the front door. Thankfully, the porch overhang has kept the door mostly clear. I unlock the door, eager to get a fire started as it’s the only heat here. I drop her things by the sofa on my way to the hearth.
By the time I’ve got the fire going, I look around to find that she’s not here. The door is still open, letting in cold and snowflakes. You’d think she’d have the decency to shut the door. But then I see her, still struggling in the snow. One step, fall. Climb to standing. One more step, fall.
Oh.
When I get to her, I hold out my hand, and she takes it without making eye contact.
She’s shivering. This will never do. I may not be social, but I’m not an ogre.
I scoop her into my arms, ignoring her squeak of protest, and hustle us back inside.
Her hair and eyelashes are covered with snowflakes.
She looks like a snow princess. I do not tell her this.
I walk her straight to the fire and set her down in front of it, then unlace her boots.
“I’ll stay dressed,” she says through her teeth chattering.
“No. You need dry clothes.” I continue removing her outer layers.
“I don’t have extra clothes.” More shivering and chattering. I have failed. My entire life revolves around saving people; keeping people safe. This woman was in my care for one hour, and now she is on the verge of hypothermia. This will never do.
I huff in frustration. “One, you have a giant bag there,” I point without looking. “Two, I’ll give you clothes, but you can’t stay in these wet ones.” If I had hackles, they’d be raised. She’s being nonsensical and stubborn.
She whimpers a little, and I catch her eyes in the firelight. Well, shit on Rudolph’s nose, I’ve lost my mind. Between the blizzard and my headache, I completely forgot myself.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’m Leif, and I work with Search and Rescue. Half-frozen people are kind of my specialty. Can I help you?” I hold my open palm out to her, a gesture of friendship, or at least of non-aggression.
“You’ve kidnapped me, Leif,” she says, her teeth still chattering, as she eyes my large hand between us. Hmm.
“I think kidnapped is the wrong word. I did not see you in my truck until we were almost here. There was no way I could safely go back to town in this weather.”
“But I was in Koru’s truck. You stole Koru’s truck.” Her eyes widen as she says the words.
It all comes together in my mind. “You—you’re—the naughty girl.
” I swallow hard, remembering the twinkle in her eye that caught me by surprise, making me tongue-tied for way too long afterward, wondering what she did that was naughty.
She’s looking at me as if I’m crazy. Clearing my throat, I try again.
“Koru has a black pickup. I have a dark green one. Same model. I suppose at night it looks black…”
“Huh,” is all she says. Then she takes her wet coat off.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” I say, ignoring the way my mouth waters at her benignly, innocently, removing her outer layers. “No clothes in her--?”
I’ve walked out of the bog and into the ogre’s swamp as I open the big canvas sack I brought in for her, thinking it was hers, only to realize that I am now holding a blue, ridged dildo in my hand.
I look at it, look at her, look at it again, then set it down gently and reach inside again.
Only to pull out a very large, very orc-like green dildo.
“What on earth?” Her shrill laugh is one of nerves. I know because I feel the same way.
Holding it out for her, I ask, “Why do you have a giant sack of dildos? Are they Solstice or Christmas presents?” I’m glad the fire is the only light in the room.
She can’t see my blushing cheeks, or my cock hard and pressed against my pants, wanting to show off how much better it is than this fake one in my hand.
In my hand. I drop it back into the bag. Set the bag on the floor and step away from it.
I’m not a prude; I just can’t believe I stuck my hand in there. Twice! She’s laughing uncontrollably, and I’m a little concerned as she holds her stomach that she’s literally busting a gut.
I swear, my headache has caused some serious brain fatigue. Realization dawns; it’s those dumb teenagers I rescued.
“It was in your truck already. So the real question is, why do you have a giant sack filled with dildos? Is Santa dropping off presents for lucky citizens?” She’s laughing so hard, it’s difficult to understand her. But unfortunately, I do.
“You should undress,” I say, though I don’t think she hears me.
I leave her to her laughter and take my humiliation to get her some clothes from my closet.
Of course, none of my things will really fit her.
I grab some sweatpants, socks, a t-shirt, and the hoodie that Ravena gave me.
I’ve never worn it. It says, “Moonfang Haven—Cozier Than Flannel, Wilder Than Winter.”
Pausing to give myself time to collect my thoughts is a mistake.
Not only is she the sexy woman who told me she was naughty this year, sending me into a spiral of thoughts that Santa would never have, but now she’s trapped with me.
And between us, a hundred dildos. This couldn’t possibly be any worse.
Back in the living room, the fire illuminates her curvy figure—thick thighs and ass, wide belly that begs for me to caress it—as she stands in her panties and bra.
Gods, of course. I told her to take off her wet clothes; I’m sure her pants were soaked.
How long was she out there struggling in the snow while I made the fire?
Too long. I clear my throat to avoid scaring her.
She turns and looks up at me. Her face is half in shadow, but I can just make out that she’s biting her bottom lip.
Damn, I want to bite that lip. Alarm bells go off in my head before I know why.
Trouble.
I was wrong. Things can get worse. They just did.
There in her hands is the look-alike orc dildo.