The Ice Storm

Stories of the ice storm flooded the airwaves all day. However, no thanks to my determination to work with little interruption, I was oblivious to what was going on until the wind turned direction and the ice began pelting the lone window in my office. I pulled my head out of the report I'd been working on at the sound, more because the constant tap-tap-tap was giving me a headache than out of curiosity as to what was going on.

I stepped to the window and groaned as I looked down onto the ice covered city. I moved to Atlanta to avoid things like this, and, yet, here I was, stuck downtown during an ice storm. It would take me hours to get home, if past experience was any indication. The last time we had a little snow here—it was less than an inch—traffic on the roadways slowed to a trickle. This was much worse than a little snow.

"Now what?" I said aloud, not really expecting an answer from the empty office.

"We could chance it, or we could stay here and wait for the road crews to catch up."

My heart sank at the sound of the deep voice I knew almost as well as my own.

Kevin Trower.

"Working late?" I asked, though it was pretty obvious.

"Just you and me," he said.

I wasn't surprised. It was often just Kevin and I catching the elevator hours after everyone else had left. Kevin and I were hired about the same time, both constantly competing for the same assignments, the same accolades from the partners. Who ever said competition was not fierce at an accounting firm never worked at McDonough and Associates.

I wondered what my chances would be if I headed out now. But I could see the cars on the I-285, sitting bumper to bumper as though it were a hot summer day outside the Georgia Dome. There was no way I was going to make it to my suburban house before dawn tomorrow.

"I don't suppose you have a tank—or a snow plow?"

Kevin smiled, his full lips making my heart skip a beat. Kevin had this delicious smile that had always had the ability to make me lose track of...everything. That's why I tried hard not to look at him during meetings. Or outside of meetings.

"We could call someone, I suppose, but I get the impression from the news coverage that all rescue vehicles are pretty much occupied at the moment."

I bit my lip as I tried to think of some other way to get out of here. Kevin, on the other hand, seemed to be making himself comfortable. He'd moved into the room and was lounging full length on the small loveseat stuck in the corner of my office. He looked like a model posing for the cover of GQ, the way he sat back with complete ease even while wearing a very well-tailored suit.

There had always been something about Kevin. He was beautiful—beautiful being the only word appropriate to use with such an Adonis—with these amazing hazel eyes and smooth skin the color of hot chocolate. His arms were bulging with muscle, visible even under the expensive material of his suit. He had a broad chest, narrow waist, and hips that strained against his slacks, making you wonder what he might have hidden there. But it wasn't just his rugged good looks that made every woman he met cream their panties. It was the way he could stare at you across a crowded room and make you feel like you were the only one there. The way he could charm with just a smile and few well-chosen words.

But I had also been on the other side of that charm, when he hung me out to dry a few weeks after we both came to work here, making it clear to the partners that he thought I had screwed up a project when, in reality, he was the one who had screwed up.

He was a devil in a very tone, very sensual body.

Somehow, I found myself unable to keep my eyes off of him. And he was watching me as I paced in front of the window, his eyes burning holes in my wrinkled blouse, my short skirt. I unconsciously ran my hands over my hips, smoothing the fabric of my clothing, as I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing his look made me imagine more than his eyes roaming over my body.

"You might as well sit down and relax, Casey," he said, gesturing to an empty spot between his splayed legs on the loveseat. "It's going to be a long night."

"No, thank you," I said.

He shrugged, as though saying: to each their own.

I slid behind my desk and picked up the phone, but there was no dial tone.

"Storm knocked the phones out over an hour ago."

"Gee, thanks," I said.

He shrugged again. "Cell service went out a few minutes ago, too."

"So we're completely cut off?"

"Afraid so."

I bit my lip again. There had to be some way to—

"You should stop doing that."

I looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Stop biting your lip," Kevin said as he leaned forward on the loveseat.

"Why?"

His slow smile made my stomach tighten, made me wish I was sitting so I could squeeze my thighs together. I was not a completely inexperienced nitwit; I knew what he was thinking. But that he was thinking it about me made the sudden dampness in my panties that much more voluminous.

"We have a long night ahead of us..." I began to say, but I don't know exactly where I was heading with it. All thought flew from my head because he stood and was walking toward me.

"Why do you always run the other direction when you see me coming?"

"I don't," I said, though I knew I did.

"Is there something about me you don't like?"

"It's not about liking you."

"Then what is it?"

He was standing before me; the only thing separating us was my desk. I bit my lip, remembered what he said and quickly released it.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do, Casey." He walked to the side of the desk, making me backup just slightly.

He was so tall that when he continued on and I found myself trapped against the wall, I had to roll my head back on my spine to look up at him. He ran a finger gently along the curve of my jaw.

"Do you remember that night at Nico's right after we started working here?" he asked, sliding his thumb over my chin. "Do you remember how we danced? The way you rubbed your hips against me, the way I slide my hand down your back?"

Did I remember it? It was a memory that often left me burning with need in the middle of the night. Even now, the memory made my skin burn with a fire I was sure could only be put out with his touch. But it didn't change anything.

"I remember how you sold me out to the partnership the next day."

"That was just business," he said, making a flippant gesture with his hand. "I couldn't lose this job and you were doing so well no one would even think twice about firing you."

"Maybe. But it was still a cold move."

"So let me make up for it."

He slid his fingers into the spaces between the buttons on the front of my blouse and pulled me closer to him. His fingers rested against my breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through my belly. I stepped back, but the resistance only caused two of the buttons on my blouse to pop open. Suddenly the tops of my breasts were on display. He didn't miss a second of it.

"So beautiful," he sighed, caressing the back of his index finger against the tender skin exposed above the lace of my bra.

"Don't," I whispered.

His eyes came up to mine and, for a moment, I thought I saw hurt there. It made my heart ache, made me want to touch him and tell him how badly I wanted him to touch me. And I did...I wanted to feel his hands all over my body, wanted to feel those long, beautiful fingers deep inside my cunt. I wanted to see his bare chest, his massive thighs, and his much gossiped about cock.

But that was the problem, wasn't it?

I wasn't the only one who had noticed Kevin from that first day in the office. There were secretaries and assistants, accountants and even a partner or two who would do just about anything to be locked alone with him in this office right now. And, rumor had it, he had fulfilled some of those fantasies, some more than once.

Not the kind of man I imagined sharing my nights with.

Tension came into Kevin's body. I could feel it in the slight movement of his finger against my breast, could see it in the straightening of his spine. But he didn't move away. Instead, he stepped closer, completing the trap I had begun for myself as his movement forced my back firmly against the wall.

"There's no one else here," he said quietly. "No one to stop me from doing what I want to do."

He dropped his hand to my hip and pulled me forward, forcing me up against his body. I lay my hand on his chest, more to catch myself than for any other reason. But the heat of his body instantly washed over me, making the throb—one I had been aware of since he walked into my office—intensify in my clit.

"Kevin—"

He swallowed my words, suddenly and viciously attacking my mouth with his. I opened to him, more out of self-preservation than anything else. His tongue invaded my mouth, thrusting deep, searching for any and all secrets to getting what he wanted. His hands moved from my hips to my ass, pulling me so tight against him that there was no longer any question as to whether or not he was excited by my closeness.

A sound like a growl washed over me as he released my mouth and moved his lips over my chin. He bit my throat, a rough nibble, a delicious pain that sent shivers through my body. The heat of his breath danced over my throat, under the collar of my blouse. I pressed my hand against his chest, wanting to push him away, but finding my resolve quickly dissolving.

He tugged at my blouse where it was still tucked into the back of my skirt. When it came free, his hands immediately pressed inside, moving across my spine and up until his fingers were caught under the restraint of my bra. He groaned as he tugged back, trying to release the clasp without properly working the hooks.

"Touch me," he whispered into my ear, a heated sound that was almost a plea. "I want your hands on me."

One of my hands was still pressed to his chest, the other loosely lying at my side. It seemed like my muscles had melted. I wasn't sure I could move. His tongue on my ear, his hands on the bare skin of my back, his cock, so hard and ready, pressed hard into my belly. It was surreal. It was something I had fantasized about dozens of times, but this was so real.

I wanted him.

I slid my hand over his hip, over the hollow at the corner of his ass, over the tight muscles that flexed under my hand. Under his jacket, over the moist heat of the day that had settled on the back of his shirt. I could feel his body shiver, could feel his need in the hitch of his breath.

I couldn't help myself. My self-control burst as he ran his tongue from my ear to my shoulder, as he finally got my bra undone and slid his hands around to my breasts. The feel of my nipple in his palm drove me over the edge. My knees were weak, my hands shaking. I ran my hand over the back of his head, urged him to bring his lips to mine again.

He was gentler this time, urging my lips apart with a tender thrust of his tongue. Again I opened to him, but this time because I was desperate for the feel of him inside of me. And I got exactly what I wanted. I got the meaty taste of his tongue, the gentle thrust, the soft caress of him against the most sensitive tissues of my mouth.

He bent his knees and slid his hands under my ass. He lifted me against the wall, pressing me hard against it for a second, pressing his cock so tight against my throbbing clit that I cried out with the sudden pleasure that pressure gave me. Then he turned, pushing papers and pens and everything else off my desk as he laid me across it.

The absence of his body on mine hit me like a cold wave. I grabbed his hand as he moved away, thinking for a moment that he was abandoning me in a state of near painful arousal. But, instead, he moved between my thighs and slid my panties, my skirt, from my hips, yanking them quickly from my body. Then he dropped to his knees and pressed his tongue against my clit. I reared off the desk, crying out at the exquisite shock that burst through my body.

"Hmm, look at how ready you are," he mumbled against my thigh. "So wet."

I sat up and watched as he buried his face against my cunt again, sinking his tongue deep inside of me. "Oh, my God," I moaned as I pressed my hand to the back of his head and pulled him tighter against me. He took my hand and held it tight in his own as he continued to thrust his tongue in and out of my soaked cunt.

I lay back down, clinging to his hand, my legs wrapped around his shoulders. He worked slowly, making me ache with need as he tasted me and then sucked gently at my clit, rubbing it softly against the back of one of his front teeth. As good as it felt, however, I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I wanted to taste his lips, to taste my own juices on his tongue.

"Come here," I groaned, tugging at his hand.

He immediately stood and bent over my prone body. He took hold of the ends of my blouse and pulled them apart, the sound of broken buttons rivaling the sound of ice hitting the window for a minute. He pressed both hands to my now naked belly, pushing them up and under my loosely hanging bra. I pressed my hands over his, pushing his palms harder against my breasts, my over-excited nipples.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him close to me and grinding my aching clit against the front of his slacks. I could feel his cock, could feel the rigidness responding to my movements. He stared down at me, his eyes touching my face, my throat, the scattering of freckles across my collarbones. His hands slid up to my neck as he leaned over me, the darkness of his skin a fascinating contrast to my ginger paleness. I rose up and pressed my lips to his, pressed my body to his until there was no longer any doubt what I wanted.

A dark cloud of need burst across his face. He grabbed my hips and lifted me off the desk, turning me around as he bent me over. I heard the clink of his belt buckle as he struggled to undo it with one hand. I knew what was about to happen, felt the urgency in his movements. I didn't try to pull away, didn't try to turn around. I waited for the satisfaction I knew was coming. And it did, roughly, almost painfully.

He kicked my feet apart, pressing his hand to the back of my neck to make me lay still. And then he plunged inside of me, thrusting the full length of his cock deep inside my cunt. I cried out even as I pressed my hips backward and met his thrust with one of my own.

"Oh, Christ!" he cried out.

He stood still for just a second, squeezing the back of my neck, my hip where his other hand lay. It was a long moment that allowed my body to adjust to the invasion of his. A long moment in which he struggled to gain control of his need. And then he began to move. There was nothing gentle about his thrusts, nothing patient or caring. It was primal. He thrust hard and fast inside of me, slamming my thighs against the desk with each movement. I held on, clutching the edges of the desk as I relaxed my cunt muscles, trying to take as much of him as I could with each thrust.

He touched places inside of me that had never been touched before. He was massive, filling my cunt until it felt as though I would tear with each movement. But the way he moved, the slight curve to his cock that forced his cock head against the thin tissues between my cunt and anus, felt like nothing I had ever experienced before. I wiggled my ass, trying to keep as much of him inside of me as I possibly could with each thrust.

"Stop," he groaned, releasing my neck and holding my hips still with both hands. "You're driving me wild!"

Just the power of that thought drove me over the edge. I could feel it beginning in my toes, a funny tingle that made me want to flex them as far as I could. It moved up my legs, making my knees go weak. And then it rushed through my belly, ran up my spine, and prickled my scalp. Finally it settled deep in my cunt, sending off a shockwave of vibrations that made me scream with the sheer power of it.

I pushed my ass back as far as I could. I felt him swell; felt him reaching his own climax in the sudden pounding of his body against mine, in the added pressure against my hips. He cried out, a deep, rumbling cry that filled the entire room.

The strength washed from his body with the final spurts of his cum. He lay over my body, pushing me hard against the desk. The weight of him was reassuring, however, despite the awkward position. I could feel his heart slamming against his breastbone where his chest pressed against my back, could feel the quick puffs of his breath. It took a few minutes before the excitement quelled in his body. When it did, he lifted me and turned me around so that I was sitting on the edge of the desk in front of him.

He stroked my face and stared into my eyes. "Why did you do that?" he asked quietly. "Why did you let me—"

I reached up and kissed his bottom lip even as my hands reached for his cock. "I wanted to."

"All this time, you've been avoiding me. I thought—"

"I didn't want to be just another notch on your bedpost," I said, as I stroked his cock back to life. "But that doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about it."

"You think about me?"

"Constantly."

Kevin groaned as he pressed his fingers into my hair and kissed me softly, gently. The urgency was gone now. The only thing left was the want.

He picked me up and carried me to the loveseat. I slipped out of the remnants of my blouse, dropping it to the floor with my bra. We started to kiss as I settled on his lap, letting his quickly growing cock slide against my swollen cunt. He ran his hands over my bare back, keeping me close without inhibiting my movements.

A thought occurred to him. He broke our kiss and looked up at me. "What do you mean, 'bedpost'?"

I ran my thumb over his bottom lip. "All those women you sleep with. Everyone's always talking—"

"You believe that crap?"

My eyebrows went up. "Shouldn't I?"

He laughed softly as he again ran his hands over my back. "Casey, I haven't been with a woman since my ex-girlfriend moved out two years ago."

I cocked my head slightly, trying to decide if he was telling me the truth or not. "But what about all those rumors?"

"Just rumors." His hands moved softly around my hips as he lifted me, pulling me up against the head of his cock. "You're the only one I want," he said as he thrust his hips and entered me again.

I moaned, a long, slow sound that seemed to wrap around us and pull our bodies tighter together. I don't know what inspired the moan more: his words or the feel of his hard cock deep inside of me. Whichever, it didn't really matter. All I knew is that I wanted this, I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before.

I would forever be thankful for the ice storm.