The storm got worse as we moved farther from the villa. Snow thickened, wind pushing hard against the car. I stayed careful with the steering, not pushing it.

Nala watched the snow streak past the window, then exhaled. "Got a cigarette?"

"Jacket pocket," I said, shifting slightly.

She leaned in, grabbed the pack, took one, lit it, then slipped the pack back into my pocket. She wasn't really a smoker, but moments like this did it to her.

"You should've told me about Carrie," she said, blowing a thick smoke.

"I know," I replied. "I'm sorry. I thought I could handle it."

"We'll fix this," she said.

"Yeah," I muttered, nodding. "We will."

I kept my eyes on the road as the car moved through the snow.

The storm got worse by the second. Snow slammed into the windshield so hard the wipers could barely keep up. Even on the fastest setting, they weren't doing much more than smearing white across the glass. The road ahead was a blur of gray and shadow.

I slowed down even more, easing my foot off the gas.

Nala took another drag from the cigarette and stared out the window.

"Evan," she said, exhaling smoke. "It's really getting worse. Should we stop?"

"I can't stop while Kim is out there," I said. "Sorry."

I kept going.

The car suddenly jolted to the side. A dull thump came from below as the tires bumped against a sidewalk I hadn't seen under the snow.

"Evan!" Nala snapped. "We should stop."

"Look, I've got it," I said, gripping the wheel tighter. "I'll just—"

Another gust of wind slammed into the car, rocking it slightly. Visibility dropped even more, and my jaw clenched.

I pulled over.

The engine stayed running, the heater blasting, the wipers still fighting a losing battle. I leaned forward and smacked the steering wheel twice, hard.

"Fuck."

Nala immediately put a hand on my shoulder. "Hey. Come on," she said calmly. "Let's just wait it out."

I exhaled sharply, then nodded once. "Fuck… okay. Okay. You're right."

"Good."

I rubbed my face and glanced at the dashboard. "I'll get us to the nearest hotel."

I tapped the screen, pulled up the map, and selected the closest one. Just a few blocks away.

I eased the car back onto the road and drove even slower this time, barely pushing it forward.

"I know you want Kim back as soon as possible," Nala said gently, taking another drag. "But crashing into something won't help that. Or worse—crashing into someone."

"I know," I said. "I just… lost my cool for a second. I'm sorry."

She smiled faintly. "I understand. That's why I'm here, aren't I?"

I let out a short chuckle. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Now drive even slower," she added, glancing at the dashboard. "I don't want to damage this thing more than it already is."

"Hm," I muttered. "That rear-end was bad."

"Woman driver," she shrugged, then shot me a sideways look.

"I'm not agreeing with that," I said. "Feels like you're setting me up."

"I am," she said. "Good job."

I chuckled and focused back on the road—or at least the faint outline of it through the snow—as I carefully guided the car forward.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎❤︎

The closest hotel took more than half an hour to reach. The roads were so bad I had to crawl forward, hands tight on the wheel, eyes aching from staring through sheets of snow. One of the roundabouts was a mess—traffic lights completely dead, two buses stuck at awkward angles, a truck jackknifed near the curb. I took the longer route, slower, safer, cursing under my breath the entire way.

When we finally arrived, I parked, killed the engine, and sat there for a second before moving. My shoulders felt like stone.

I pushed the door open, the cold air biting at my back as I stepped into the warm lobby. Nala shook off the snow from her coat, eyes darting around the dull, faded space. The hotel was… not good, not terrible. Exactly what you'd expect from a place that survived on business travelers and bad weather. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with heavy glasses perched on the tip of her nose, barely looked up from the desk as I approached.

"Checking in?" she asked, voice flat.

"Yeah, one room," I replied.

She gave a quick nod, her fingers tapping on the keyboard with no hurry. "ID?"

I handed it over, sliding it across the counter. Nala shifted from foot to foot beside me, clearly not impressed with the place. Her eyes flicked to the flickering overhead lights, then to the worn-out carpet underfoot.

"Any issues with the heat?" I asked, trying to make small talk while the woman took her sweet time.

"The heat's fine," she answered, sounding like she was reading from a manual. "Just... don't touch the thermostat. Some of the rooms get a bit... finicky."

I gave a short nod, not wanting to drag this out longer than necessary. After a few more seconds, she finally slid a key across the counter—room 214, second floor.

"Breakfast is from seven to nine. No pets allowed," she added, with a kind of finality in her tone.

I pocketed the key and glanced at Nala. She looked at the worn-out lobby with mild disdain.

"Well, it's not a five-star," I muttered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yep."

I laughed dryly and nodded toward the staircase. "Yeah, but it's the best we've got for now."

We made our way to the second floor, the wooden steps creaking underfoot. The hallway smelled faintly of old cleaning products and stale air. I unlocked the door to 214, and we stepped inside.

Inside the room, the heat hit us first.

The room was modest. A queen-sized bed sat in the center against the far wall, white sheets tucked neatly, a dark wooden headboard with two small lamps mounted on either side. To the left was a narrow desk with a chair pushed in, a TV mounted above it. A luggage rack stood folded near the door. Beige curtains covered the window, but a strip of city lights still leaked through. The carpet was clean, a little worn, and the air smelled faintly of detergent and heater dust.

I dropped my coat on the chair, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled my phone out again.

I called Kim. Again. Straight to voicemail.

"Fuck…" I muttered, letting the phone drop into my hand.

Nala took her coat off, shook the snow from it, and hung it on the hook near the door. She came over and sat beside me, close enough that our knees touched.

We both looked toward the window. Snow battered the glass sideways, streetlights barely visible.

"The forecasters say it'll take some time to clear," she said quietly. "We're stuck here until midnight."

"Shit," I said. "Great. Kim's gone, and we're stuck in this place."

She stood up and turned to face me, hands on her hips, studying my face.

"Okay," she said. "Come on."

"What?"

"Let's take a bath," she said simply. "The snow's drying on us. We'll catch a cold by midnight if we don't."

I exhaled, then took her hand and stood. "You're right."

We walked to the bathroom together and I pushed the door open.

It was small but clean. White tiles, a wide mirror over the sink, folded towels stacked neatly on a shelf. The bathtub was tucked along the far wall with a glass divider, a simple showerhead above it. Steam still lingered faintly from the heating system.

We started to undress, slow and quiet. Nala shrugged out of her sweater, the fabric sliding down her arms, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She caught me looking and smiled faintly, the tension in her eyes softening just a little. I pulled off my pants, then my shirt, tossing them aside.

I turned the water on, adjusting it until steam rose and the sound filled the room.

When we stepped in, the heat wrapped around us instantly.

Hot water poured over my shoulders, loosening muscles I didn't realize I'd locked so tight. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing it in. Nala stood close, her back against my chest, the warmth and closeness grounding in a way nothing else had been all day.

For a few seconds, everything else faded—the storm, Carrie, the fear.

Just heat, steam, and the quiet sound of water.

Nala grabbed the shampoo bottle, poured a generous amount into her palms, and worked it into a thick lather. Then she pressed her front to my back, her full tits sliding up my skin, slick with bubbles.

She moved slowly, using her breasts to wash my back—up and down, side to side, nipples dragging over my muscles. The foam spread everywhere, warm and slippery.

I let my head fall back, eyes closing, relaxing into it. "Fuck, that feels good."

Her tits circled lower, over my shoulder blades, then down to the small of my back. My cock, already half-interested, stiffened fully, throbbing against my thigh.

One hand snaked around from behind, fingers wrapping around my shaft. She started jerking me off slow and steady, grip perfect, bubbles making everything glide.

"So tense," Nala whispered into my ear, breath hot. "Let's get you all relaxed and soft."

"Oh…" I groaned, hips rocking into her hand.

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