Stormbound - pt 4 - by Gun Brooke

Tiffany was slowly calming down, enough to start feeling self-conscious about the way she was clinging to Izzy. Despite being convinced that Izzy must wonder what strange woman she had in her bed, Tiffany was unable to let go. The dream had scared her so profoundly, mostly because it had reflected real life. It wasn't the first time she'd dreamed about the events that transpired only a few weeks ago after her father passed away. Growing up as Edgar Ozland's daughter had never been easy; being the heiress to his estate was a nightmare. She had never lived with her father, she had stayed with her mother and grandmother, until she going off to college. Tiffany's mother never spoke a bad word against her former husband, but she insisted on Tiffany going by her mother's maiden name, Ashton, to stay out of the limelight.

“There. Feel better?” Izzy spoke quietly next to Tiffany's ear, her breath warming her skin.

“Yes. Sorry for making such a fuss. “Tiffany pulled back a little and looked up at Izzy. “I'm not normally like this.”

“It's okay. We can all have nightmares.”

“No, I mean, truly. I'm usually quite happy-go-lucky. Really.”

“You don't have to apologize.” Izzy sat with the scarred side of her face slightly turned away, the soft light making her green eyes luminescent. “I'm just glad I woke up before you actually fell off the bed.”

“Oh, goodness, yes, my pride would never have survived.” Tiffany had to laugh at Izzy's wry grimace. She then realized she was still holding on to Izzy's arms. “Oh. I didn't bruise you, did I?” She quickly let go.

It was Izzy's turn to laugh. “I don't think you could bruise me even if you tried.”

Tiffany didn't know whether to be offended by Izzy's words or charmed by her laughter. “Please. I'm stronger than I look.”

“You'd have to be. A lot stronger.”

“Bragging, huh?” Tiffany covered her mouth and yawned. “I'm sorry. Seems I'm sleepy again.” She glanced at the pillow she'd been using. “Guess it sounds silly, but I'm nervous about going back to sleep.”

“Nothing silly about it. Don't worry though. I promise to wake you up if you're having another bad dream.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” It was actually a relief. The faces of the two men and the woman haunted her enough during the days. Tiffany extended a hand and stopped Izzy as she moved to lie down. “Please. I think I changed my mind about being closest to the edge of the bed. Can we switch? Or am I being difficult?”

“Not at all.” Izzy helped Tiffany climb over her, and half way, she found herself almost nose to nose with her. Tiffany held on to Izzy's shoulders and the tingling in the palm of her hands made her blush. Izzy was attractive, but it was still not like Tiffany to respond to someone after only knowing them a few hours. She moved quickly to not embarrass either of them, and a stabbing pain in her left shoulder made her groan.

“What's wrong? What did I do?” Izzy looked startled.

“I don't know. I mean, you didn't do anything. Why would you ask that?” Tiffany rubbed her shoulder up toward her neck.

“I thought I'd hurt you when I kept you from falling off the bed, maybe.” Izzy hovered over Tiffany. “Let me look at your shoulder.”

“Oh. All right.” Tiffany allowed Izzy to push the t-shirt off her shoulder. “Ow, yes, right there.”

“God, you're black and blue from the seat belt.”

“Ah. Figures. I'm just as sore across my, ehm, pelvic area.” Another blush warmed Tiffany's cheeks. “You know. From the belt.”

“I realize that.”

Relieved that Izzy didn't insist they'd check that part of her anatomy for bruises too, Tiffany pulled the covers up around them. “Don't know about you, but I'm ready to brave some more sleep.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Izzy turned her back and laid down.

Tiffany shifted a few times to get comfortable, but it was impossible, since she kept rolling either toward Izzy's back or the wall behind her.

“If it's all right with you, just crawl up behind me. I don't mind.” Izzy's voice was barely audible, and somehow Tiffany got the impression that this was hard for her to suggest. Izzy seemed very self-conscious about her scar.

“Neither do I. Thank you.” Relieved, Tiffany snuggled closer to Izzy's back. Just as she began to drift off, something hit the cabin wall just behind her, making her jump and grab a fistful of Izzy's t-shirt. “Goodness, I'm jumpy.”

“Just the wind blowing debris around. I promise.”

“All right.” After a few minutes, Tiffany went back to sleep, still holding onto Izzy's shirt.

***

Izzy moved and opened her eyes. Grayish light came from the kitchen and she realized it was early morning. She felt stiff and achy as usual in the morning, she tried to stretch, but found it impossible to move. Frowning, she looked down her right side and saw nothing but a cloud of blonde, curly hair. Tiffany. Izzy had obviously turned onto her back during the night, and Tiffany had ended up with her head on Izzy's shoulder. “Oh, no.” Izzy tried to extract her arm, but she couldn't move it more than a few inches. It wasn't Tiffany's weight so much, as it being stuck in the sheets, or...it wasn't the sheets, Izzy realized in horror as she touched naked skin. Her hand was inside Tiffany's t-shirt.

Squirming at the touch, Tiffany sighed deeply and buried her head further into Izzy's neck, much like she had done last night after her nightmare. Izzy wanted to wake her, but not until she had disentangled her hand. Carefully, she used her other hand to try and pull at Tiffany's shirt, only to make the startling revelation that it had ridden up at least to Tiffany's waist. Her heart pounding so hard now that it hurt her ribs, Izzy's mind raced to find different solutions. She thought of merely yanking herself free, no matter the consequences, but she remembered Tiffany's horrible dream and didn't want to frighten or startle her by such a rash movement. Then again, I don't want to embarrass either of us. Not to mention that she might think I'm feeling her up, or something. Izzy groaned quietly. There was also the fact that Tiffany felt so soft and warm against her, and there should be a law against being so pretty.

“Mm. Izzy?” Tiffany stirred, moving a little. Only now did Izzy realize that she wasn't the only one that was tangled. A small hand had sneaked into the space between Izzy's pajama bottoms and her t-shirt; it was now moving dangerously close to her left breast. An evil voice inside told Izzy to just lie still and enjoy the moment since it wasn't likely it would ever happen with a lucid woman ever again. The viciousness of her own thoughts made Izzy flinch and Tiffany shifted again. “Izzy? What? Oh!”

Tiffany quickly withdrew her hand, blushing profusely. “Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did that. I had no idea...” Her voice trailed off as she sat up and clearly noticed the state of her t-shirt. To Izzy's dismay, it was pretty obvious where her own hand was, since it was stick stuck in the twisted t-shirt.

“As you can tell, we've become a bit intertwined.” Izzy did her best to sound casual, which she guessed failed completely. “No harm done.”

“Easy for you to say, you're not half naked,” Tiffany said gloomily and tugged at her shirt.

“You should count that as a blessing. Trust me.” In more ways than one. Izzy rose from the bed. “What's your poison in the morning? More hot chocolate?”

“No, coffee please, if you have it?”

“Sure. Coffee it is.” Izzy confessed to herself that she was running away, as she hastened out into the kitchen. Shivering, she put more logs on the dying fire. “Damn, it's cold.”

“S-sure is.” Tiffany came padding across the floor behind Izzy, the blanket from the bed wrapped around her. “Any chance my clothes are dry yet?”

“Let me feel them.” Izzy felt the expensive fabric of the slacks. “Yes, they're dry. I'm not sure they will ever look the same, but you can put them on.”

“Excellent.” Tiffany gathered her clothes and disappeared into the living room. She returned just as the water was starting to come to a boil. “Here. Let me make the coffee. Perhaps you can scare up some cereal or something?”

“Are you sure? It's not like brewing coffee in a machine.”

“Ha. I'm sure. I used to make coffee like this all the time when I went camping with my cousins.”

Izzy would never have pegged Tiffany as a camper. “All right. I have Cheerios and Corn Flakes or would you prefer something hot, like oatmeal?”

“Cheerios, please.”

Izzy left Tiffany to take care of brewing the coffee by hand, and entered the walk-in pantry. She grabbed a box of Cheerios and stopped just inside the door, unable to take her eyes off her houseguest. Tiffany stood on one leg as she leaned forward to pour water into the filter. Her long, curly hair hung in wild tresses down her back, and Izzy could easily recreate the feeling of it against her skin. Even if Tiffany's high-end brand clothes were terribly wrinkled with traces of mud on the pants, they still emphasized ever curve and line of her body. For being so small, Tiffany was curvaceous in all the right places. Izzy knew she ought to feel more ashamed than she did for allowing her gaze to roam Tiffany's full breasts and her proportional body. There was something about Tiffany that made Izzy think she might even enjoy Izzy's attention. Maybe I'm being delusional.

“That's the last of the water. Coffee's ready.” Tiffany glanced over her shoulder.

Izzy felt like she was busted with her hand deep in her grandmother's cookie jar. “Eh, yes. Well, here's the Cheerios. I only have canned milk, though.”

“I'm not picky. Camping expert, remember?” Tiffany wrinkled her nose in a way that Izzy had come to consider utterly charming. Suddenly panicky about how fast this woman was getting under her skin, Izzy recoiled. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that someone like Tiffany, or any woman, was something she would never have. She had removed the big mirror her grandparents used to have just inside the front door, but she remembered all too well what she looked like. Tiffany had seen the scar on her face, which was bad enough, and she would never see the three jagged scars disfiguring her torso. There were times she allowed herself to forget about them, since she never looked at them, but then the severed nerve endings would reignite and make themselves painfully known. That's when the bad memories came crashing down, and it could take her days to bounce back.

They ate in silence. Izzy thought Tiffany would sooner or later question why her mood suddenly changed. When that didn't happen, she began to relax. Tiffany seemed content to just eat her Cheerios with canned milk and have her coffee in quiet companionship. There was something oddly comforting in this, and Izzy found to her horror that she was going to feel terribly alone without Tiffany when she was ready to leave.

Continued in part 5