SEAL’s Command by Makenna Jameison
Chapter 5
Ashleigh unpacked a few things from her suitcase but left most of her clothes inside of it. She wouldn’t need to bother with everything since she was just here overnight as Slate had non-too-delicately reminded her. So much for her quiet weekend at Anna’s cabin.
It’s not like she’d intended to become best friends with the guy or something, but sheesh. She could’ve worked quietly on her laptop without bothering him. Hadn’t he said he planned to be out hunting tomorrow? They’d barely even see one another.
Sure, it might be a slight inconvenience given that he’d hoped to have the place to himself, but she’d just cooked the guy dinner. Had he even thanked her?
Typical man.
He was as arrogant as the next guy, so full of himself and his military career that he couldn’t be bothered with the likes of her. He clearly wanted the cabin to himself for a quiet weekend and wanted to send her on her way. She’d just spend the evening writing. Slate could do whatever it was he did at night, and she’d stay in her bedroom, content to work alone while the snow fell outside.
Looking around, she realized her laptop bag was still in the car. She’d come inside with only her phone and car keys, and when Slate had gotten her suitcase from the trunk, he’d missed the bag in the passenger seat. Sighing, she put her boots back on and walked down the hall toward the living room. Slate’s door was closed most of the way, so she figured he didn’t want to be bothered.
Maybe he was reading or planning his next military operation or something. Who the heck knew?
The fire warmed the living room nicely, and she pulled on her parka, dismayed that she had to go out in the cold again.
Holding the car keys in her hand, she opened the front door and stepped out into the wintry blast. The covered porch kept the sleet and freezing rain temporarily off her, but she stepped into the icy elements and slowly crossed the slippery driveway to her car. Slate’s Jeep was parked there as well, and she realized with disdain that she should have rented a more suitable vehicle for driving up in the mountains.
This wasn’t like back home where everything would be cleared right away by snow plows. She might have to navigate the icy mountain roads tomorrow when she left. What if she slid off the road? Her cell reception had been spotty since she arrived. Ugh. She reached her car door, hoping the locks weren’t frozen yet. The windshield was iced over, but it wasn’t like she was driving anywhere tonight. She just needed her bag.
She clicked the remote, unlocking the doors, the mixed precipitation coating her hair. Her fingers were freezing, and she realized she should’ve grabbed her gloves. She’d only been outside a few minutes, and her hands already hurt.
She gripped the door handle, frustrated when nothing happened. Thankfully, she yanked hard enough the second time for the door to open, and she retrieved her bag, slowly walking back to the cabin after she’d shut the door again.
The icy pellets bounced off her cheeks, and she wished she’d grabbed her hat. Her hair was already damp and coated in the slushy mess. At least she could sit by the fire once she got inside. Moving onto the porch, she reached for the doorknob to the cabin and froze in momentary panic as she realized it had locked behind her.
Shit.
She was going to have to knock on the door for Slate to let her in. How embarrassing was that? She’d already planned to avoid him the rest of the night.
Lifting her hand, she knocked a few times, knowing he probably couldn’t hear her from down the hallway. Making a fist, she pounded on the door, wincing as her hand hit the wood. There were still no sounds from inside—no footsteps or sound of the doorknob turning.
Should she bang on his window? Pound even harder on the door?
She set her laptop bag down and tried knocking again, louder this time. “Slate! I’m locked out!” She waited a beat but still didn’t hear him. Aside from the porch light, it was incredibly dark outside. She had her car keys. Maybe she should turn on the engine and headlights and honk the horn.
She’d try knocking on his window first. Otherwise, he’d think she’d gone completely crazy sitting out in the dark, honking until he opened the cabin door.
Ashleigh turned around, watching as the sleet began changing back to snow. It was beautiful, the wet, heavy snowflakes falling in the porch light. It would be even prettier watching it from somewhere warm, say, inside next to the roaring fire. She stepped off the porch, her already damp hair getting coated in snowflakes. Both of the bedrooms were down the hallway in the cabin, so she figured she could walk across the grass and knock on his window. He’d have to hear her then.
Taking a step on the slick front path, she suddenly shrieked, sliding on the ice. She flung her arms out, trying to keep her balance, but still fell, landing in a large, slushy puddle that wasn’t frozen over. Cold water immediately seeped through her clothes, and she cursed as the shock of it bit into her skin. Her ankle throbbed, and she realized she’d twisted it as she’d fallen.
“Ashleigh!” a male voice shouted from inside.
Of course. Now he heard her. She tried to stand up, her legs already hurting from the freezing water that had soaked through her leggings. Her hands and sleeves were now wet as well as she tried to push herself up, not to mention her bottom. Even her panties were soaked through, and the water was damn cold.
Pain lanced through her ankle, and she muttered a curse. As if she needed another problem right now.
The front door suddenly opened, and Slate stepped onto the porch, looking slightly rumpled but sexy in his flannel shirt and jeans. Had he been sleeping? No matter. His gaze scanned the dark area, and then he somehow noticed her off the path. “What are you doing out here?” he barked.
His voice was sharp, and she winced.
“I got locked out,” she said, her voice cracking. She stood up in the cold mess and stumbled as she stepped forward, the pain in her ankle causing her to cry out.
“Shit. Are you hurt? Why are you soaking wet?” he asked, moving toward her.
“I fell,” she said, shivering. “There’s a huge puddle there. I think I twisted my ankle.” She was cold, wet, and frustrated, and the tears smarting her eyes weren’t helping her to feel any better. She took a careful step, wincing again in pain.
“Damn it, why didn’t you knock on the door?” he asked. “You’re going to get hypothermia.” He took her arm to steady her and guided her toward the cabin, frowning. “How long have you been out here?”
“I don’t know—ten minutes? You didn’t hear me knocking, so—” She shuddered, her wet clothing doing nothing to protect her from the elements.
He took one of her hands, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Your hands are too cold,” he said, his voice gruff. “Why don’t you have gloves on?”
“I just came—came out for a minute to get my laptop,” she said, shuddering again.
She took a shaky step forward, and Slate finally picked her up when he realized she was favoring one ankle. She let out a whimper as he held her to his chest in his strong arms but was too cold to protest or care. He managed to shove her laptop bag back inside as well and then shut the door behind them, gently setting her down. The heat from inside the cabin blasted over her, but she shook as she stood there by the front door. Ashleigh fumbled with her parka, her cold hands almost useless with the zipper. Her skin was red and raw and hurt. Slate roughly pushed her hands aside and unzipped her jacket, tossing the wet garment onto the ground. “You’re shaking,” he muttered.
“I’m fine,” she protested, her teeth chattering.
“You’re not fucking fine,” he ground out. “We have to get these wet clothes off of you.”
She squeaked as he scooped her up into his arms again, carrying her toward the fire. “What are you doing?” she asked in a panic.
“Warming you up.”
He set her down near the roaring flames and without any pretense, lifted her sweater up and off her. The sleeves were damp, her arms and hands red from the cold. Without a word, he grabbed a warm throw from the couch, carefully wrapping it around her upper body. He barely seemed to notice she was in only her bra, and he was already kneeling down to remove her boots.
She shook before him, the fire and blanket not nearly enough to warm her. “Slate,” she protested, stepping out of one boot. Tears smarted her eyes as he took the boot off her injured ankle, but she was too cold to really care. Her socks came off as well, and her body shivered violently as he peeled down both her leggings and panties. She was wet and freezing, unable to even feel his muscular hands on her skin, too in shock to even care that he was literally undressing her in front of the fire. She whimpered, trying to grip the blanket tighter around herself with her numb hands, and he cursed.
“Why are you taking off your clothes?” she asked, watching as he began unbuttoning his flannel shirt. He took it off, then peeled off the tee shirt beneath. He was completely ripped, with six-pack abs and muscles upon muscles. Normally she’d be drooling over a man like him. At the moment? She was too dazed to really care.
“I’ve got to get you warm,” he muttered.
He didn’t stop undressing either. Slate toed off his boots and tugged down his cargo pants, so that he was standing there only in boxers. She was next to naked in only her bra and the blanket, not even wearing panties, and violently shaking.
He grabbed another blanket and his coat, pulling her down to the soft rug in front of the fire. Slate wrapped her in his arms, so they were pressed skin to skin as he held her. Ashleigh couldn’t believe the warmth radiating from his large body, and she tried to nestle even closer, tucking her cold hands against his abs as she shook.
Slate held her even closer, adjusting the blankets and his coat around her as he shared his body heat with her. One large hand palmed her head, and she felt the warm skin of his chest beneath her cheek. She felt like she was chilled to the bone, and she couldn’t stop her body from shuddering, even with Slate’s muscular arms wrapped protectively around her.
They lay wordlessly in front of the fire, the heat warming her as much as his large body was. She didn’t even know how much time passed. She was cold, her skin raw, and Slate patiently held her. Eventually, her body finally began to return to normal temperature and as her shuddering finally slowed, she lay slack against him. Slate’s hand trailed down her hair, but it was more comforting than sexual.
She whimpered slightly, and he soothed her. “You’re okay now.”
He had to be uncomfortably hot lying right by the fire like this. His body seemed to run warm anyway, and he’d piled blankets atop them. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move though.
She shifted slightly as their legs intertwined, the hairs on his muscular legs tickling her bare skin. It felt sexy and intimate, even though he was strictly warming her with his body heat. Ashleigh was mortified to feel arousal pooling at her center. She was practically naked, wearing only her bra. She shouldn’t be turned on by this. By him.
She was draped over Slate like she was his, and now that she was warming up, her body reacted to his warmth and strength and masculine scent. Ashleigh started to pull away, planning to retreat to the safety of her own bedroom, but Slate tightened his hold, keeping her nestled against him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. Let me keep you warm by the fire. You scared me when you wouldn’t stop shaking.”
She stiffened for a moment but then relaxed again into his embrace, letting him hold her, using his body for warmth and comfort and safety. He was so big, even with her head on his chest, her feet didn’t reach his. She felt protected and cared for, and even if it was a bad idea to stay nestled against him, she didn’t care. She’d take the comfort he offered right now.
Yawning, she felt his large hand run over her hair again, and then she closed her eyes for a moment, relaxing further into him as he soothed her. Slate said something in a low voice, but she was already surrendering to the pull of sleep.