Snow Job by Tara Wyatt (best classic books to read TXT) 📕

She bit her lip. “I am a little hungry.” Then she kissed him again because she just couldn’t help herself. Because right now, in this moment, kissing him felt like breathing. Like a complete and total necessity.

With a reluctant sigh, he eased himself off of her. “Why don’t you go take a shower while I make us something to eat? Towels are in the cabinet under the sink.”

She nodded and then carefully eased her feet to the floor, her hand on Sebastian’s muscled shoulder as she tested her ankle. It hurt, but not like yesterday. She was able to stand on it without wanting to scream, which was a definite improvement.

“Can you manage?” he asked, his brow knitted in concern.

She nodded. “I can put weight on it, unlike yesterday.” She turned back to face him and cupped his face. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

He swallowed, his face tight with emotion and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

As she hobbled into the tiny bathroom, she couldn’t seem to stop the wide grin from spreading across her face. Her ankle still hurt, she was going to miss the end of the retreat she’d worked so hard on planning, and she was snowed in with a man who until very recently had been her nemesis.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy.

The scents of bacon and coffee still hung in the air as Sebastian loaded the last of the breakfast dishes into the ancient dishwasher, his eyes flitting back and forth between what he was doing and where Kayla was curled up under a blanket on the couch, gazing at the roaring fire he’d built. The snow was still falling outside, but yesterday’s blizzard had died out, giving way to slow and soft flakes floating from the sky.

While she’d been in the shower, he’d quickly checked in with Patrick. The storm had been a big one, dumping well over two feet of snow on the resort. Today’s lessons were cancelled while the maintenance crew dug and plowed everything out. Since Kayla was still here with him, he kinda hoped tomorrow’s lessons would be, too.

God, Kayla. He’d been bracing himself for the worst this morning and instead, she’d given him something he hadn’t even dared to hope for: a chance. It had been a long time since anyone had taken a chance on him, and fuck, it felt good. And all he knew was that he wanted more of her—in his bed, and in his life.

Whatever this is, I’m in.

It was the best thing anyone had said to him in a very long time.

He poured them each a fresh cup of coffee and headed to the couch to join her. His cock thickened at the sight of her, wet hair in a messy bun, her face freshly scrubbed and bare. She wore his discarded navy blue sweatshirt from yesterday and her leggings. Fuck, he liked seeing her in his clothes, almost as much as he liked seeing her out of them.

He sat down beside her and handed her the steaming mug, which she accepted with a smile. The fire crackled softly and for a moment, they sat in silence, sipping their coffee.

Then she turned to him, her head tilted. “Will you tell me about your knee and everything that happened?”

He let out a breath and then nodded. “What do you want to know?”

She reached out and wove her fingers through his. “Everything.”

His chest felt hollow as he looked at her, this gorgeous, amazing woman who somehow wanted him after everything he’d done.

“That’s a long story.”

“I think I can fit it into my jam-packed schedule today,” she said, her gorgeous mouth twisting into a wry smile.

He swallowed and sat back against the couch, something in his chest softening when she snuggled into him. He caught a whiff of his shampoo from her damp hair and his stomach tightened. Kayla Bristowe, smelling like him, wearing his clothes was the hottest, sexiest thing ever. Ever. It made him want her again. Made him want to be the man she deserved. Made him want things he’d long since given up on having.

He stroked a hand up and down her arm, trying to organize his thoughts. It had been a while since he’d talked about some of this stuff. There were things that only a few people knew—Max and Lucian, mostly. He’d always done his best to keep his baby brother Theo out of his problems, and Aerin had had enough on her plate with her acrimonious divorce followed by her move to Dallas. But he found that he wanted to open up to Kayla. After what she’d given him this morning with her openness and vulnerability, he wanted to do the same for her.

“When I was a kid, home was bad. We had money, but that didn’t make up for the fact that my parents hated each other, spent years using us as pawns in their divorce. My dad resented anyone or anything that seemed weak to him. I have memories of him screaming at me to stop crying when I’d hurt myself or something.”

“How old were you?” Kayla asked softly, her arm tightening around his waist.

“Like seven or eight. He’d call me a sissy and a weakling for daring to have emotions. It was hard. Really hard. He hated me and Lucian so much. He mostly ignored Theo and Aerin, which left them open to Mom’s passive aggressive belittling. He liked Max, for some reason. Not that Max isn’t likeable. I just didn’t see how he was so different from me or Lucian. Things got better in some ways after the divorce, but also worse because they never had time for us. I always felt like we were a burden. An inconvenience. I started acting out just trying to get attention, but they didn’t care. I just got labeled the wild one and that was that. ‘Oh, don’t pay any mind to Sebastian even