7. Eli #2
“I could ask you the same question.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Sienna pushes the plate away from her.
“Why are you up here in the middle of a snowstorm?” I search her eyes for my answer, knowing she won’t give it to me straight. But her eyes give away nothing. She’s been in Hollywood long enough to learn how to keep her face neutral at all times.
But I know how this works. She’s wearing a mask to protect herself from constantly being in the spotlight.
I don’t expect Sienna to admit that anytime soon, but I sense she’s different. Most Hollywood people would never dream of driving up here, not unless they had been pushed to their limits.
I toss Sienna’s uneaten venison into a container and save it for tomorrow. “You’ll feel better in the morning after a good night’s sleep.”
“We’ll see about that,” mumbles Sienna, peeling herself off the stool.
I head into the laundry room to grab sheets and towels.
I turn around and almost crash into her.
Her piercing eyes land on mine, sparkling like diamonds in the warm light.
I glance down at her mouth. Fuck. Terrible mistake. Her cherry lips would look incredible wrapped around my cock. I can only imagine what kind of sounds she’d make with my cock deep inside her throat.
“Follow me.”
Floorboards creak underfoot, Sienna’s heels clacking against the hallway floors.
“It’s not a bad place you have here,” she says, “considering the location. Do you have central heating?”
“The pipes connect to the fire.”
“Cute.”
I haul her bag over my shoulder, along with the fresh linens, and open the front door. Sparks fly as she moves past me, her arm brushing against mine.
“You’ll need to change into some different shoes.” I gesture to the pairs of boots lined up on the porch. “Take your pick.”
“I’m fine in the Diors.”
“You said they were busted.”
“More busted than these things?” Sienna reaches for a boot hesitatingly, like she’s picking up a snake, and dangles the shoe by its lace. “See all the mold? No thanks. I’d rather stick to my heels.”
“Besides,” she says, dropping the boot like it’s a piece of dog shit. “I’ll be on my way first thing tomorrow morning when the snow clears.”
“The snow isn’t expected to clear for another few days, at least.”
Sienna spins around, arms crossed over her fur jacket. “I can’t stay here for a few days and just… wait things out. Unlike some people, I have meetings to attend. Important people to see.”
“You’ll die on the way back down. The snow isn’t fun and cute up here, nothing like it is in those movies you make.”
Sienna frowns. “How do you know I’m an actress?”
I shrug. “Wild guess.” I tear my eyes from her face before my gaze veers any further south to her breasts.
I tell her to follow me.
“You could be a murderer.”
“Very funny,” I call back.
“Or a pervert.”
“Do I look like a pervert to you?” I spin around, looking deep into her eyes. She builds those walls again like it's second nature. There’s no terror in her eyes, no vulnerability. All I see is that vivid blue, and my own reflection.
“Perverts come in all shapes and sizes,” she continues, trudging through the snow in her heels behind me. “You’re handsome, but that doesn’t make you a good person.”
I raise a brow. “You think I’m handsome?”
No response.
I glance over my shoulder and see her staring at my ass.
“Sienna?”
Her eyes flick back up to mine, and that blush is back on her cheeks.
“Um,” she stalls, her mouth gaping open. “Maybe.”
My cock knows she’s lying.
“Look,” she sighs, “if I have to stay here for a few days, you’re gonna have to tell me where the nearest grocery store is. Guess I’ll have to make do with whatever you’ve got until the snow clears.”
“The grocery store is the cabin, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” she drawls. “How could I forget?”
“Since my car is buried in snow, I need one of you to drive me to Pilates tomorrow morning. Do you know where the nearest studio is?”
“Like I keep saying, we’re at the top of a mountain. And what the fuck is Pilates anyway?” I look over my shoulder and see Sienna glaring at me like I’m not all there in the head.
“Pilates,” she repeats. “Everyone knows what Pilates is.”
“Not up here they don’t.” I insert an old key into the cabin door and turn the handle. The door groans on the hinges. “Sorry about the creaking, but it has everything you need. A bathroom. A small kitchenette?—”
“Heated floors?”
“No…”
“What about a yoga mat?” Sienna places her hands on her hips, sticking her perky breasts out. “I guess I’ll have to settle for mat Pilates while I’m stuck here.”
I set Sienna’s bag and the fresh linens on the little table, flicking on the light. It flickers several times before it warms up.
“Jesus,” huffs Sienna under her breath. She plugs her nose. “Did someone die here?”
“That’s just dust,” I say. “Like I said, we haven’t had anyone stay for a while. We close this place up in the winter because, well, people don’t tend to come up here this time of year.”
My eyes are back on her face, trying to figure her out. But she refuses to give anything away.
I head into the bedroom and start making the bed.
Intrusive thoughts hit. She’s naked, sprawled out on the mattress, gasping my name in that melodic voice of hers.
The erratic rising and falling of her chest causes her breasts to be showcased.
They’re round, the nipples pebbled hard, colored the same soft pink as her lips.
Please, Eli.
I’m so close, Eli.
I palm a supple breast and give it a squeeze.
“I’ll make the bed myself.” Her brisk tone brings me back to reality.
“It’s not a problem. I always make the bed for our guests.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a guest. And this isn’t a vacation.”
I hand her the sheets, her warm hands brushing against mine. So soft and tender, like her breasts will feel when I eventually get my hands on them.
“Whatever you want. Give us a call if you need anything.”
“How am I supposed to do that when I have no cell service?”
“There’s WiFi you can connect to,” I say. “But I meant ‘call’ in the literal sense. Use your voice, not your phone.”
She rolls her eyes at me and continues making the bed.
“Goodnight,” I say, leaving the cabin confused.
This woman demands gluten-free bread, wants us to drive her places with several feet of snow on the ground, but she’s choosing to make her own bed. That makes zero sense.