Relentless. Wild. Deafening.
The wind tore at the house, a violent force that rattled the windows and howled with a sound so ferocious, it felt like the world was being swept away. The snow, thick and swirling, was so dense that the trees in the front yard were completely swallowed by the storm. Nothing existed outside but a swirling mass of white.
Inside, we were cocooned in warmth. Two blankets beneath us, two more piled on top, and yet, the wind’s fury seeped through the walls and made my skin prickle with unease. The air, once warm with the heat of the house, now felt colder, sharper. It was as if the storm was seeping into every corner, filling the space around us with a constant tension.
Shane slept soundly, his soft breaths a comforting presence against the nape of my neck. His arm was draped over my chest, holding me close, a steady weight that grounded me. Even through the layers of sweatpants and blankets, I could feel his body against mine, his warmth, his heartbeat, and the slow stirring of his desire in his sleep. A small, amusing part of me noted it with a quiet smile.
But the wind outside was becoming more relentless, its howl now louder, more intense. The clock read 2:37 when the microwave panel flickered and the beeping began, a frantic, uncertain dance of power coming and going. The soft hum of the house was gone, and in its place, only darkness and silence surrounded us.
And then, the cold.
It hit me like a sudden slap, cold air invading the bed, seeping into the room like an unwelcome guest. My breath caught in my chest, and I shivered despite the layers of blankets. I tried to convince myself it was just in my head. The storm outside, the loss of power, it all created a feeling of growing unease. But the chill in the room felt far too real.
I didn’t want to wake Shane, not yet. But I had to get up. The bathroom.
“Shit,” I muttered quietly, already regretting not filling the bathtub with hot water earlier. If the power went out for too long, the water could stop, and we’d be left with nothing. The heat from the water might have held onto the heat, slowing the cold’s taking over completely.
I tried to move without disturbing him, but his arm around me tightened. I froze.
“Are you okay, Tay?” His voice, groggy but full of concern, broke through the tension in the room. He was awake now, and I’d failed to sneak away unnoticed.
I let out a quiet sigh, resigned to the fact that I’d disturbed him. “I’m fine,” I whispered, my voice barely above the sound of the storm. “Just need to use the bathroom.”
“Is that the wind?” he asked, a little more awake now, sitting up on his elbows.
“Yeah, and the power’s out,” I replied. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be quick.”
But he didn’t lie back down. He sat up fully, his eyes scanning the darkness. “For how long?”
“Not long,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You go back to sleep.”
“I think I need to take a leak.” He said it in that tone, a playful mischief in his voice.
I rolled my eyes. I hated that term.
“I heard that,” he said, his voice full of humor.
“What?” I replied, sliding my legs off the bed to stand.
“You rolled your eyes,” he teased.
“How could you hear that?” I asked, as I stepped away, trying to find the bathroom in the dark.
“Because you roll your eyes really loud,” he replied, his voice amused. “And you always do this little breath-like thing when you roll them.”
Before I could react, he was behind me, moving with a fluidity that made him seem like a predator. He grabbed me in a bear hug from behind, pulling me back against him. His lips brushed my ear, and his voice dropped to a teasing whisper, “I wonder if I need to take a dump, dump, dump.”
I pulled away, trying to maintain some composure. “I have dibs, so if you need to take a shit, as we say in polite company, go outside and do it.”
His laughter rumbled against my back, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him, even as the storm raged louder outside, its fury pressing in closer. He grabbed me again, his arms wrapping around me like a shield against the storm. And in that moment, amidst the chaos outside, everything else seemed far away.
The wind continued to howl, but inside, with Shane holding me tight, I felt the warmth of something far more enduring.
We took turns emptying our bladders, the pipes groaning faintly in protest as though they, too, were weary of the storm. I paused in the kitchen to set the faucet to a steady drip, insurance against frozen lines. The rhythmic tap of water was strangely reassuring, a reminder that small precautions could hold back larger disasters.
Meanwhile, Shane crouched in front of one of the space heaters, his brows knit in that half-serious, half-playful way he liked to call mechanical finesse. I watched him tinker with the knobs and wiring until the coils gave off a faint red glow, then adjusted to low heat. Satisfied, he gave me a grin that said problem solved, and I slipped gratefully back beneath the covers.
A few moments later, he joined me, his body radiating warmth as he curled against my side. His stubble scraped softly against my cheek.
“Today’s the day I’m supposed to pick up your Christmas present,” he murmured, his voice drowsy. “I wonder how long it’ll take me to drive there.”
“You’re not driving anywhere,” I said, already pulling him closer. “They’re probably closed anyway. Besides, you’d have to be an idiot to get out in this weather, and you, my man, are not an idiot.”
He chuckled, the sound muffled against my skin. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Shut up and go to sleep. But don’t forget to snuggle me, I don’t want to get cold.”
He answered not with words but with a shift of his hand, pulling me tightly against him. His bulge pressed firmly against me, the pressure a quiet promise, even as his breathing slowed and steadied. I stayed awake a little longer, watching snowflakes flicker past the window, marveling at how blessed I was.
The insistent buzz of my phone woke me. I had rolled onto my back, and Shane’s head now rested heavily on my shoulder. A small puddle of drool dampened the fabric at my collarbone. Instinctively, I brushed it away with the heel of my hand before it could sink in deeper. Later, I would laugh at myself for the contradiction, that I found it unappealing here, yet the same wetness had never disgusted me when it slicked his lips or touched me in other, far more intimate ways. Context makes all the difference.
Reaching for the phone, I fumbled and sent it clattering to the floor. The sound roused Shane, though only slightly, as I slid free from under the covers to grab it. The screen flashed Cynthia.
“Hello, Sis,” I whispered, clearing the sleep from my voice.
“Are you still planning to come over today?” she asked. “I know that’s what we said before the storm got this bad.”
I glanced back at the bed, at Shane half-buried in blankets, the warmth of his body already missed, while outside the wind rattled against the siding. But then I thought of the brightly wrapped presents waiting in my bag, the eager little hands of my nieces and nephews.
“You still want us at lunchtime?” I asked.
“Yep. I had everything ready before we lost power last night.”
Even as she spoke, a low hum filled the room and a faint flicker of light glowed from the kitchen.
“OK, that’s weird,” Cynthia said with a laugh. “I just mentioned the power, and it came back on.”
“It’s on here, too,” I said. Relief washed through me at the thought of hot water. “We’ll let the heater do its thing, shower, and then head over. I’ll text when we leave.”
“Perfect. See you in a while.”
The line went silent. I turned, grinning at Shane. “So much for an afternoon of lovemaking in your pup tent,” I teased, nodding toward the pile of canvas still under the window.
“Oh well,” he sighed theatrically. “Guess you’ll never know the true pleasure of reaching Nirvana.”
“I’ve been to Nirvana,” I shot back. “Shane Junior took me there several times. I just wish he’d share his techniques with you.”
I laughed as he lunged playfully, grabbing me by the waist.
“You little slut,” he growled, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. For a moment, the storm outside filled the silence between us, whistling its eerie tune.
Our mouths met, hard, deliberate, hungry. He guided me backward until I was flat against the bed again, the world narrowing to nothing but the heat of him. His body pressed into mine with a tenderness that contrasted the urgency of our kiss. I cupped his face, my lips never leaving his as he slid inside me. He was deep within me when I could hold back no longer. His release followed, shuddering and fierce, before he collapsed against me, his breath warm and ragged in my ear. I held him close as his breathing slowed. “I love you,” I whispered.
The trek to the main house felt like an endless, bone-chilling ordeal. The wind howled mercilessly, biting through every layer of clothing I had on. My sweatshirt and parka offered little protection against the cold, their warmth quickly stolen by the icy gusts. Each step was a battle against the snow that whipped at our faces, stinging and relentless. But we made it, somehow, no presents lost to the storm.
Shaking the snow from our boots, we hurried inside, stripping off our coats in the entryway before making our way through the laundry room. The heat from the kitchen greeted us like a warm embrace.
The moment we stepped through the door, the kids were upon us, their faces bright with anticipation. They yanked the wrapped presents from our hands, chattering excitedly as they rushed toward the tree, their high-pitched shrieks of joy filling the room.
"Put them under the tree!" I called after them, laughing at their boundless energy.
Cynthia, who had been bustling around the kitchen, looked up from a pan she was moving from the island to the counter. “Oh, I can feel the cold coming off you,” she said, her voice laced with concern.
“Well, everything smells delicious,” Shane replied, glancing over at the stove where the scent of whatever she was cooking made my stomach growl.
I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him, feeling the comforting warmth of his body against mine. “And I haven’t had to worry about the cold with this guy to keep me warm,” I added, leaning into him.
Shane grinned, his hands slipping around my waist as he planted a soft peck on my cheek. The warmth of his lips lingered on my skin, grounding me in that moment of simple peace, even as the storm raged outside.
That’s when the world turned black.
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