TWO HOURS SINCE SHE’D CLIMBED in back and changed.

Two goddamn hours, and I was still sporting wood.

The fucking visual of her lace thong as she’d stripped and given me an accidental ass shot before pulling on pants was playing on a loop in my head.

That fucking ass.

Goddamn.

Except the teenager and her ass were the last things I needed to be focused on.

The roads had been iced up since we’d gotten off the main highway an hour ago. Rain had turned to sleet, then snow. Despite the heavy weight of the armored SUV, the tires kept hydroplaning from the shit conditions and gusting winds.

Gripping the wheel, I eased us into the next sharp switchback on the access road up the mountain, and the Escalade swerved.

Summer gasped, grabbing her seat belt. “Shade!”

Cutting our speed, I corrected the Escalade and pulled us back from the steep drop on the single lane road. “Relax, we’re fine.”

“Fine?” Her voice pitching to panic Mach ten, she glanced at the fall away on her side of the road. “If we go over that edge, we’re dead. That’s like a two-hundred-foot drop.”

More like two thousand. We were already halfway up. “I’m not going to let that happen.” But I needed to get us the rest of the way up the mountain before any more snow dumped down.

“You can’t control ice and snow,” she argued.

“I can control how I drive.” If she would fucking shut up and let me concentrate.

The road already barely passable, I didn’t tell her we were minutes out from having to hike the rest of the way in. Which would’ve been the safer alternative at this point, except I’d been holding off on making the decision to abandon the SUV because she wasn’t properly outfitted and didn’t have decent boots. In this weather, she’d be hypothermic in minutes, but if I couldn’t keep the Escalade on the road, and if the nor’easter kept coming in as fast as it was, we’d have to risk it.

The tires spun on the next curve, and she shrieked.

“Woman,” I snapped, taking my foot off the gas as the vehicle slid backward. “We’re fine.”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she chanted in a panic. “We’re going over the edge!”

Tapping the brakes and taking one hand off the wheel, I grabbed the back of her neck and spared her a glance. “I got us. We’re going to be fine. You don’t need to panic.”

Her eyes welled. “We’re sliding.”

I held both her and the wheel steady and let the SUV drift. “Put one hand on your seat belt and the other on the release. If I tell you to, undo the seat belt, no hesitation. Understand?”

Her lip quivered.

I put force into my tone and hold on her. “Understand?”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, moving her hands into position.

“Good. Now let me drive. I’ll tell you if there’s a problem.” Releasing her, I checked the side mirrors and gave the Escalade a little gas.

“Shade?” She started to shake.

We didn’t move.

“What?” I gave it more gas.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered.

The wheels spun but didn’t engage.

“I told you I’m not going to let that happen.” Giving the SUV still more gas, I undid my seat belt.

She freaked out. “Oh my God, what are you doing? Are you going out there? Don’t do that, you’ll fall down the mountain. The road isn’t wide enough for both you and the SUV.”

Ignoring her, keeping it slow and steady, I pressed my foot down.

“What’s happening? What’s that noise? Oh, God, are the tires spinning?”

I didn’t answer her.

The tires caught, and we lurched forward.

She let out a cry of fear.

“We’re good, we’re good.” Correcting the steering, keeping my foot steady, I checked the side and rearview mirrors to make sure we were staying on the road.

“Oh God, it’s steeper ahead. We’re not going to make it up that.”

The tires gripping, the Escalade moved. “We’ll make it.” At least part of the way, which was fucking fine with me at this point. Any progress the SUV made meant a shorter hike for us.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t let us die. I don’t want to die out here. We’ll freeze to death, and no one will find us.”

Fucking Christ. “Woman,” I snapped. “I’m a Force Recon Marine. If I can survive five tours, I can get us up a goddamn mountain.” The SUV made the sharp turn in the switchback. “You’re not gonna die. Sit back, take a fucking breath, and keep that hand on your seat belt release ready.”

“Okay, fine,” she snapped, before inhaling deep and letting it out. “But that doesn’t sound good. That sounds like I need to be ready to release it in case we start to go over the cliff.”

That was exactly why, but I didn’t tell her that. If we started to roll, I was either going to pull her out or shove her out. Fractions of a second mattered, and she needed to be ready. “It’s only precautionary. We’re not going over the edge.” Hoping like fuck I wasn’t lying, I got us through the next turn.

“Okay.” She inhaled deep, then her voice came out calmer. “How much further?”

“As a crow flies, less than a mile.” The Escalade acting like a damn plow at this point, we made it another half klick.

“And as a swerving, tire-spinning SUV, how much further then?”

It wasn’t lost on me that she’d pulled herself out of her panic, or at least was pretending to, which was more than I could say for a few Marines I’d encountered on my first deployments.

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.” If I could keep us moving forward.

She gripped her seat belt harder. “Just keep us on the road.”

“That’s the plan,” I answered absently, checking the side mirrors as I took the next turn.

Her knee started to bounce. “So, is this your place we’re going to?”

“Yeah.” No fucking traction, we started to slip again.

“Does it snow a lot up here?”

The tires spun. “Every winter.” Halfway through the turn, I didn’t ease off the pedal.

She glanced around nervously. “You like that? The snow, I mean?”

Come the fuck on, Escalade, pull your weight, motherfucker. “Yeah.”

“What do you like about it?”

“You talk when you’re nervous, princess?” Watching the drop-off, I hit the second-to-last switchback before my place.

“I’m not nervous. I’m fucking terrified,” she admitted.

“Fair enough.” We hit a pothole covered by ten inches of snow, and the right side the vehicle dipped.

“Oh my God,” Summer gasped. “What was that?”

“Pothole I need to fix come spring.” I made a mental note.

“You pave your own road up to your cabin?”

“We’re on a dirt road now. We left the paved roads after the first switchback.”

“Switchback?” she asked, looking behind us.

“A hundred and eighty degree turn in a road. Goes one direction, then cuts back almost on top of itself in the other direction. Switchbacks are common up here in the mountains when it’s too steep to have a straight road.”

“If it’s too steep for a road, then maybe there shouldn’t be a house up here.”

I chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun is civilization. Beaches, flat roads, restaurants, shops—that’s fun.”

“Spoken like a true Floridian.” We slid through the next turn.

“Shade!” She grabbed the handle above her door.

“We’re good, princess.” We weren’t good. I was losing traction by the second. “One more turn.” Then I was seriously considering abandoning ship before we slid off the fucking road and hit a tree.

“You said fifteen more minutes. It’s been like five.”

Coming up on the next turn, I took a calculated risk and overcompensated. “We’re getting there,” I evaded as the Escalade made it around the next turn, but this time slid toward the side of the mountain instead of the drop-off.

“Oh my God.” Both of her hands went to the Oh Jesus handle. “We’re sliding all over the place!”

“That one was purposeful. The turn sharper than the last one, I wanted this beast hugging the side of the mountain, not flirting with the drop-off.”

“Well, glad you got that covered,” she stated dryly.

Checking the mirrors, watching my speed, I eyed the edge of the road and glanced at the odometer. We could hike it from here. “We’re close.”

She glanced around. “How close? I don’t see anything but snow and mountains and lots and lots of trees.”

There was no way the SUV was going it make the last three hundred yards. It was the steepest part of the drive, and I was sure there was an inch of ice under the snow up here. “You got a thing against trees?”

“Yeah, when they’re not palm trees.”

“You don’t like mountain pines, princess?” We inched toward the last switchback. “Come on, it’s like Christmas every day of the year.”

“These are not Christmas trees,” she complained. “These are like their gangly, missing-too-many-needles-to-be-pretty, lanky step-cousins. Christmas trees should be like Santa, big and wide and round.”

Ignoring her rant, I tipped my chin toward her seat belt. “We’re coming up on a sharp turn. Remember what I told you.”

“You’re not making me feel better.” She nervously rubbed her hand down her thigh before her hand went back to her seat belt release.

“That part comes later,” I carelessly promised as I eased down on the gas and swung into the turn.

“Unless there’s hot chocolate, I’m not interested.”

I didn’t respond.

The front tires gripped the road, but the second the back of the SUV rounded the turn, we fishtailed.

Taking my foot off the gas, holding the steering wheel tight, I issued orders as the rear left wheel went over the edge. “Seat belt off, now. Open your door. Quickly.”

Panicking, she reached for the handle above the door.

The Escalade started to slide backward.

“Seat belt OFF.” Giving the SUV gas, I barked out commands. “Door open!”

Pulling her legs up like the goddamn floor was on fire, she did neither.

My foot on the gas, the tires spinning, I leaned across her, hit the release on her seat belt, and pushed her door open. “Jump, jump.”

“Shade,” she cried.

I shoved her out.

Her ass hit the snow, and the SUV went over the edge.