Cabin Fever - An Erotic Novel

Chapter 18 - Throwing wood on the fire (FINAL EDIT)

Outside, the wind had picked up. It was snowing like the next ice age had begun. I couldn't see the other buildings and my car had disappeared under a white blanket.

All ten of us – me, my seven companions, plus Bella and Greg – were sitting in front of the majestic living room fireplace. Or in Bella's case, standing, leaning just so against the widow. And 'just so' I mean that same stance that nearly drove me out of my mind when she called me up to her office...

The fireplace was a monstrous creation. One of those arrangements where the fireplace went into the front end of the room, framed to either side by a wide expanse of windows, floor to roof. It was majestic all right, but the end result was not aesthetically pleasing – the fireplace and the chimney split the panoramic windows in two, totally screwing over what could have been a truly breathtaking view.

They should have put it somewhere else, but the architect had decided to make the fireplace, not the mountain view, the centerpiece of the room. A bad decision, in my opinion.

There was more than enough room. Two large sofas, a smaller one of the same model, and two voluminous chairs. Everything looking big and sturdy and colorful and hotel-like. Very American hotel lobby. About as far as you can get from my own cabin interior. And pillows. Pillows everywhere. Women need lots of shoes. And lingerie. But not pillows. Not that many anyway.

Everyone had been assigned a room and given the opportunity to freshen up. Bella had produced some glasses and a few bottles of red of decent vintage. Greg had been busy assembling an impromptu meal big enough to feed everyone.

We had a fire going. We had wine. We had food. We had sexy company. All the ingredients needed to make a perfect cabin weekend.

Lizzie was resting, wine glass in hand, in one of the upholstered chairs. I sat perched on one armrest, chatting amicably with her, while keeping half an eye on Bella. She didn't look pleased, but she was making an effort not to scare her guests. Or maybe they were my guests and were just invaders to her.

Lizzie was not angry. She was just lovely and warm and welcoming. She had a really pleasant voice and pearly laughter. I found myself liking her a lot. And not just her body, which was absolutely to die for, but her personality too. She reminded me a bit of Abbie, only with more curves, a slightly different color palette, and much more easy-going. Don't get me wrong. Abbie is perfect, and I love her, but she's not exactly the most open or easy person to be around.

Donna and Emma, our resident blonde twins, occupied the smaller sofa. They had dropped the tights in favor of some fairly short, body-clinging dresses. They looked stunning, but sneakers. Sneakers with dresses, both of them. To be so blatantly ignoring the High Heels Commandments...

They needed a little spanking to teach them better manners. Maybe I should line them up later, have them pull up their skirts, and bend forward. Give them a round with the riding crop (Bella had one up here, guaranteed) and then have them parade around in heels. Maybe I should ask Greg to help me out. The way he was looking at Donna made me think he'd say yes. It was a good fantasy. I chuckled a bit and continued to pretend to be listening to Lizzie.

The foursome group was unevenly split between the two larger sofas. Juliette, sensual, French-accented Juliette, was in the middle, flanked by stern-looking Kimberly and pretty-boy Harry. They were so sleeping with one another, all three of them. You didn't have to be an expert to notice the sexual tension between them or to figure out who was doing who. Harry did Juliette. Kimberly did Juliette. But Harry and Kimberly weren't doing one another. That was obvious. What a cute little ménage à trois.

I wondered if they would be willing to expand to a foursome. Juliette wouldn't mind, I imagined. Harry was sneaking glances at me from time to time. I figured he probably liked boys too. I wasn't entirely sure I felt like returning the favor, but he was kind of attractive.

That left Kimberly. Who didn't seem at all interested in me – or Harry – just in Juliette. I couldn't quite place Kimberly as the lesbian type. I can't claim to be able to tell straight people from gay people (it's not that simple a distinction anyway), but in this case, I was pretty sure my instincts were right.

It was more of a Juliette thing – Kimberly was deeply, madly in love with the person Juliette, not Juliette's gender. And not exactly thrilled to be sharing her with Harry, I imagined. Quite the challenge then – I so do like challenges. And if we were going to be snowed in here for days... why not give it a shot?

That left Indiana, the fourth passenger in that car. Unlike her three friends on the other sofa, India had taken the opportunity to dress for the occasion. She wore a low cut black dress. Not quite an evening gown, but a cross between that and your friendly neighborhood Little Black Dress. She sat like a proper lady, showing off her heels – finally a woman with some shoe-sense – and slender legs that just kept on going up, up and up. Her hair was up high, exposing a slender neck on top of those bare shoulders. I got an urge to kiss her nape and pull down on that fabric. Or maybe start with her feet while I slipped a hand up her thigh to discover she'd dropped underwear.

Greg returned from the kitchen and dropped down next to India. Completely ruined my immersion. I took a deep breath and smiled noncommittally to Lizzie, then stole a glance as Bella. She was still leaning on the fireplace, showing off her profile. Her arms were crossed in front of her, while also managing to hold on to a wine glass. She took a sip, turned her face towards me, and smiled. A wide, winning smile. All white teeth and red lips, with just a hint of tongue. Dark hair framed eyes of deepest night. Why had I never noticed how dark Bella's eyes were?

I suddenly felt very, very tired. I just wanted to go to bed and sleep for a couple fo days. It wasn't that late, but it had been a long day. Work. The drive. All the pretty women and their ceaseless prattle. It was all very tiring. Add the warmth of the fire, the wine, and a full stomach, and the result was predictable. I suppressed a yawn and looked about. I wasn't the only tired face around the table. There was yawning enough to go around. Only Greg and India – and Lizze – seemed more or less unaffected. The other five guests looked about ready to curl up on the sofas and go to sleep.