Snowed In

He cupped my ass, and I almost jumped into his arms.

“I’ll do that too.”

Morgan…

I was being stupid, I knew. But both these guys were stupidly hot. The kind of hot that makes a girl do stupid things, like squirming ass-first into some sizzling hot, sleeping-bag threesome.

“I’ve been looking for you, you know,” Jeremy was saying.

“Me?”

He nodded into my shoulder. “Mmm-hmmm.”

“And how’s that?”

“Well for one you’re a nerd at heart, like me.”

I started to laugh, but instead inhaled sharply as one of his nibbles turned into a bite. It was amazing, receiving this much attention. Especially from a guy this beautiful.

“You’re intelligent, you’re sassy, you’re adventurous…”

Adventurous! Now there was a new one. No one had ever called me adventurous before.

“You’re beyond beautiful,” Jeremy went on, kissing his way back up. “Although I’m not really sure you realize that just yet.”

I couldn’t believe it was all happening. I could barely even believe what he was saying.

“And of course, it doesn’t hurt that you’ve got the hottest…” he slid a firm hand between my legs, “…tightest…”

“RADIO!”

Jeremy suddenly stopped everything and jumped back. His face was all shock and surprise as he blinked at me in confusion.

“Look!” I pointed excitedly. “It’s a radio!”

Sure enough, on the shelf behind him was a big, ugly-looking box of dials and knobs: an old ham radio, from the middle of last century.

My gorgeous new lover was still confused. “So?”

“So if it still works we can use it!’ I shouted. He cringed, and I realized how loudly I was talking. “Sorry! I mean… I mean if the transmitter’s not broken—”

“That thing?” he said, wrinkling his upper lip. He even looked cute like that. “Look at it. It’s been on that shelf forever!”

I reached up to take it down. Jeremy helped me. “Yup.”

“It’s gotta be shot. Or at the very least, the batteries are all—”

“It doesn’t need batteries,” I said, cradling it like a baby in my arms. “It’s one of those hand-crank models.”

It was so heavy! So big and thick and very, very old. It was sheer insanity to think it could actually work, especially in this climate, after all these years. Then again, as my father always said: ‘they used to make things a lot better back in the day’.

“Come on,” I urged. “Help me lug this thing downstairs.”

I was talking high and fast as I headed for the doorway, as excited as a kid on Christmas. But Jeremy still looked disappointed.

“Relax,” I assured him with a quick peck on the lips. I let my eyes wander his body intentionally. “We can always finish this later.”

Sixteen