Używamy plików cookies, aby ułatwić Ci korzystanie z naszego serwisu oraz do celów statystycznych.
Jeśli nie blokujesz tych plików, to zgadzasz się na ich użycie oraz zapisanie w pamięci urządzenia.
Pamiętaj, że możesz samodzielnie zarządzać cookies, zmieniając ustawienia przeglądarki.
Więcej informacji w naszej polityce prywatności.
Rozumiem, zamknij komunikat
It’s on, the storm of the century, trapping Ana and Ash up in a mountain cabin. The snowplows don’t need to worry about their road. They melt the snow all on their own. But after the storm ends, can this “fake” romance survive reality, the harshest test of all?
The world already hates me for being a player. Now I’m a kidnapper, too.
I drove off with Ana while she was drunk as a skunk after a New Year’s party in Vegas. She didn’t exactly say she wanted to go away with me. In fact, when we last spoke she seemed pretty interested in quitting me. Then she passed out.
But that’s exactly why I need to get her away from it all, the celebrities and parties and cameras always flashing at us from all angles. I need to get her up into the mountains where I have a private cabin. Very private.
It’s just my dumb luck that we got snowed in. For days.
You remember show and tell in school? I’m not so good at the tell. But the show? That’s all me.
Now I have Ana all to myself, shielded from prying eyes, in our own private world. I can show her pleasure she’s never known before. She can let go of all of her inhibitions. No one will ever know.
I have days on end to show Ana exactly what she means to me, how I feel about her, and I won’t stop until she believes me. Or she’s melted into a puddle of orgasms. Or both. I’m starting to like the sound of both.
New Year’s Day I woke up in a mountain cabin with Ash Black, nothing but the sound of the wind and snow falling thick all around us.
There’s nothing I’ve been more afraid of than this. Just us, no distractions, no paparazzi, no interfering agents or crazed fans. All that noise made it easier to hide from the feelings building up inside of me. I’m terrified of the way he makes me feel, the way I’m falling for him so hard.
But now he has me alone, snowed in, at his amazing mountain cabin. He’s all muscle and sex. His voice alone makes me wet. One touch sends me reeling, and he seems to sense and want to unlock all of my most secret fantasies, the ones I haven’t even admitted to myself I want.
This romance is fake. I keep telling myself that. I can’t really trust him. This is all pretend.
But then he pulls me close, presses a hand to the small of my back, kisses my throat and whispers low and wicked in my ear, “Let yourself go.” How am I supposed to say no to that?