Starting Over

"God DAMNIT!" I shouted to no one in particular. I was on my way back from a visit to the reservation about two hours north of town. Doc had advised me to let Marc take me in his truck, but I couldn't face him after our last fight. Besides, I left early, and I trusted my Toyota 4Runner. However, I ran late, which I should have expected. I ended up seeing patients who had missed their appointments, treated a few minor aches and pains, and checked a few people's blood pressures. Now it was 4:45pm and the sun was almost down.

These damn Montana days are so short.

Snow was coming down and my visibility was shit. I heard the wind howling and, much to my alarm, I felt the 4Runner sliding on the newly formed ice.

Fuck. FUCK!

I couldn't see anything. The windshield in front of me was pure white. I fought the urge to panic as I pulled over to the side of the road and put on my emergency lights. I still had a signal. I called Doc.

"Hey Kiddo. Are you almost back?" I heard his voice over the phone and instantly felt better.

"Um, I think I'm about halfway back to town and I'm kind of stuck in a blizzard."

"Well, isn't Marc driving? He's driven through worse."

"Marc isn't with me."

"What? Why not!?" He raised his voice more than I had heard him ever do and I felt like a child being scolded, which at the current situation added insult to injury.

"I didn't think he needed to come." I said lamely.

"This is because of whatever you two were fighting about. I told you both to work it out. Never mind. I'll send him to get you."

"Wait- I think I can probably-"

"Don't even think about moving, young lady." he cut me off, "Stay exactly where you are. How much gas do you have?"

"I filled up at the res, so about three quarters of a tank."

"Ok, keep your heat on low but if the snow keeps accumulating it can block your exhaust and you can die of carbon monoxide, so, you know, be careful."

"Got it."

"Stella, you're going to be ok. Don't be scared." His voice was steady and calm. I could feel his concern and I felt my throat catch.

"I won't be." I said, hanging up the phone.

Well, that was a lie.

I had approximately one hour before Marc showed up. Why did it have to be him anyway? I was becoming annoyed at how frequently he was around, although he was about to come save me from almost certain hypothermia and possibly death, so, I guess I could reserve my annoyance for another day.

I thought back to our fight and my cheeks flushed, whether with anger or embarrassment, I wasn't sure. I had thought about it so often over the past few days. It wasn't a surprise Marc had made himself scarce at the clinic lately.

I turned the heat to low and tried to distract myself with the radio. I could feel the panic start to rise in me as each minute passed. The snow was accumulating, and I was wondering if I would dare to turn off the heat to avoid suffocating or if I'd rather go out sleepy and warm. *Keep it together!*

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate, when I saw two bright lights coming through the snow. Marc. I didn't think I'd ever be glad to see him, but I sighed heavily with relief. I hadn't realized how scared I was, but now that I felt relieved, I started crying. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and managed to dry up most of my tears before he reached the door. I killed the engine, and he opened the door, the wind gusting and howling around him.

"You ok?"

I nodded silently and he helped me out of the Toyota. The road was slick, and he helped me get to his truck. The snow was still making visibility nearly impossible, but the bright headlights made it easier. He opened the passenger door and helped me climb up, shutting the door behind me. He walked around and climbed into the driver's seat. When he closed his door, we sat alone in the silence for just a moment, staring forward. I saw his jaw clench and he put the truck in first, lurching it forward. The large heavy truck fared much better than my 4 Runner, but we still made very slow progress, and visibility was next to zero. Marc turned onto a side road and spoke for the first time since we had been driving.

"There's a hunting cabin down this road that we can stay in to ride out the storm. I think it'd be safer than trying to drive at this pace."

I said nothing, but realized the weight of my decision. I could have died. And I put him in danger too.

I felt guilty and I wanted to apologize, but the sting of his words from our last argument burned in the back of my mind. *"You want people to respect you but you're out at the bar every night picking up roughnecks to fuck. This is a small town, Stella."*

We got inside the one roomed cabin and Marc used a flashlight to find a lantern. He lit it and a warm glow filled the room. There was a small table, two chairs, and a couple cots. A wood stove was at one end, and I silently prayed Marc was going to build a fire, as my body succumbed to shivering. My prayer was answered, and he gathered several armfuls of wood, placed them by the stove, and soon we had a fire roaring. It heated the cabin quickly, though I still heard the wind howling outside.

I hugged myself, stepping closer to the fire. Before I could say anything, Marc spoke.

"You put yourself and a lot of people in danger tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Doc said he thought you were with me. You know I would have taken you in the truck." He stepped closer to me, but I still stared at the ground.

"I - I thought I could make it back before the weather got bad but I got caught up on the res. I probably should have spent the night."

"Then you wouldn't be home for a week. These roads are going to be snowed in for a while. Why didn't you just ask me?" His voice was gradually raising, and I braced myself for a tongue lashing.

"After the last argument we had..." I said weakly.

"You almost killed yourself, put me, and possibly others at risk because of an argument?!" He shouted. "I cannot believe you would be so reckless Stella! Christ."

"Well maybe you should have thought of that before you basically called me a whore in front of the whole office!" I shouted back, wheeling around to face him. It was harder than I thought, since he was nearly a head taller than me. Still, I braced myself, held eye contact, and let into him. "I have done nothing but try my best and work hard since I've come here and everyone else knows it, but you have been nothing but mean and disrespectful. I'm fucking sick of it! I don't know what your fucking problem is with me, but I'm contracted here for another year and a half so you better fucking get used to me because I'm not going anywhere!"

"This has nothing to do with what I said!" He shouted back. "And I never called you a whore!"

"You didn't have to, it was implied! And that was just the cherry on the top of the cake, you have been an asshole to me since day one, even your mom and sisters agree with me!"

"Yeah, I've been an asshole, but that doesn't mean you haven't been doing some stupid shit. I mean fuck, Stella, that guy was an asshole and don't even try to deny it, because I know you never saw him again. I've known him since we were kids, and he is bad news."

"That's still none of your business who I date or fuck for that matter!"

"So, I was right, you fucked that guy?" He asked incredulously.

"Oh, my god, why do you care?!"

"I don't." He was seething but lowered his voice. "But I've been working with Doc for a long time, and everything you do affects him, the clinic, which by the way, he has been struggling to keep the doors open for a while, and the people we serve. So, I don't give a shit if you want to kill yourself in a blizzard or go out and fuck every asshole in the bar but consider someone else besides yourself for once. And no, I really don't give a shit who you fuck." He practically spat the words at me.

I did feel guilty, but not for picking up a stranger in a bar. That really was no one's business but my own. But his words hit me about potentially harming the clinic. Doc was like a father to me, and I know he felt the same about me. I would never intentionally do anything to jeopardize his business. The realization came suddenly and mixed in with the fear and relief I had felt over the last hour. I started to reply but felt my chin quiver and my voice crack.

Oh shit. Please don't cry.

I abruptly turned around so I was facing away from Marc. Against my best effort, hot tears streamed down my face. I made an effort to stay silent, but a sob came up before I was able to choke it down. Now I was embarrassed because I had lost yet another fight and I was crying stupidly, in front of Marc of all people. God I hated him right now. His arrogance, and the fact that, technically he was right.

Fuck. Fuck him.

"Stella," Marc spoke much more gently, "Shit, I'm sorry I yelled at you." I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched. I hated that I still had trauma reflexes from my marriage to Steven. Any sign of weakness in that marriage could have been deadly. It made me cry even harder and I hated myself more.

"Hey, hey." He said softly, and gently turned me around to face him. "I shouldn't have said all that." He realized that I could not be reasoned with at this point and gathered me up in a hug.

I should have been taken off guard. We had never embraced before, and honestly, I couldn't remember a time he had ever touched me or even been anything more than begrudgingly cordial to me. But we were both in large winter coats so that was a little bit of a buffer, and it did feel good to bury my face in his coat, so I didn't have to look at him while I cried. He hugged me tightly and I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I can be a real asshole, I'm sure you figured that out by now." He didn't let go and kept talking while he held me, and I cried. "Hell, my mom and sisters know it too, but they have to keep me around."

I gave a half laugh at his feeble attempt at humor, and he let go of me so I could wipe my eyes. "I'm sorry," I managed to get out, "You're right. I never meant to put anyone in danger. It was incredibly stupid."

He looked at me, much more gently now, and I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "It was, but I hope in the future you won't be afraid to ask for help," he made sure I was looking at him, "even if we've had a fight. Which, I'm guessing, with our personalities, it won't be that uncommon. "

I nodded, unable to speak.

"Doc likes you, so we have to keep you around for as long as possible."

I was starting to dry my tears and regain what little composure I had left.

"My mom would absolutely beat my ass if she knew I ran you off, and I am not even exaggerating about that."

I laughed, as I could imagine Kathy doing exactly that. "I would not cross your mom if I were you."

"Oh, trust me, I won't." he grinned. We sat down in the two chairs by the small table. I was starting to feel a little better. Marc reached for my hand which was still in my glove and held it between his two. "You know," he paused, looking down for a second before meeting my gaze again, "if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself."

That was not what I was expecting. He had shown nothing but contempt towards me since the minute I arrived. Well, he did occasionally bring me coffee. And there was the time he checked on me after the first blizzard when I got stuck on my way home. Come to think of it, he was always checking up on me to make sure I was ok. But I always thought it was because he felt obligated to, like I was this idiot from New York city who would die in the elements without help and leave Doc to find another assistant.

"You sure have a way of hiding it." I said, unable to resist a small jab.

He smirked, "Yeah, I'm working on that." He took off his gloves, shoved them in his coat pockets, and gently wiped away the remaining tears on my cheeks. "Don't want these to freeze to your face."

I laughed, feeling more comfortable now. The heat from the wood stove was thoroughly warming me, and I took off my own gloves, hat, and coat. "I really am sorry about this. I promise it won't happen again."

"It better not." he said seriously, reaching up to my face again, but this time drew me in and kissed me deeply.

My head was swimming. My emotions were on a roller coaster, and I had no time to think. Luckily my body reacted without thinking, and I felt myself kissing him back. I was immediately struck by how much chemistry we had. It was like an electric bolt running through my body. I hadn't felt this in a long time. I could tell he felt it too. The kiss was escalating, and I felt him work his way down my neck. I let out an involuntary moan, which seemed to encourage him.

Shit, I was getting wet. Where is this going? I can't think, when he's doing...oh, my god.

Marc stood up, pulling me with him as we continued to kiss, one hand cradling my head, the other holding me close against him. By now, he had taken off his coat, letting it drop to the floor. He was wearing a long-sleeved cotton shirt, jeans, and his work boots. When I stood pressed against him, I felt his body for the first time. I knew he was in shape, but I could feel his hard muscles against me. I put my hands under his shirt and ran them up over his abdomen and chest.

"Your hands are freezing." he mumbled between kisses.

"They won't be for long." I held onto his back, feeling his muscles with each movement. I had to admit, I was completely turned on at this point. I lifted his shirt up and he assisted me in taking it off. He was heavily tattooed, and I flushed, slightly embarrassed of the effect it had on me. Maybe because it was such a stark contrast from Steven, who was very clean cut. Regardless, I admired the work, and his body.

"I couldn't have these in the Air Force, so I got my first one as soon as I retired, just so I could never go back, I guess. Then it just sort of spiraled from there."

"I like them." I ran a finger down his bicep. I held his gaze and started unbuttoning my own shirt. The heat and warm glow from the fire hypnotized me, and emboldened me, and I unbuttoned my jeans as well, searching his face. When I stood before him in my bra and panties, unmatched, but not my worst pair, he drew in a breath.

"God you're stunning." He looked at me hungrily, embracing me again. His hand ran down my back and he cupped my buttocks while we kissed. He lifted me effortlessly and placed me sitting in front of him on the table. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around him. He was still wearing his jeans and I reached for his belt buckle, opening it with ease. I reached down into his boxer shorts and felt his cock, hard and thick in my hand. He dropped his pants the rest of the way and kicked them to the side along with his boots. I looked up at him and smirked. That was all the invitation he needed. In one motion he pushed me back onto the table and freed me of my panties. He lifted me slightly back so I was facing him. His cock was aligned at my entrance, but he waited.

"Marc," I said breathlessly. I needed this, there was no turning back. "Please..." With that he entered me, slowly at first. My mouth opened in surprise, and I gasped, taken back by the size of him. He paused but I nodded yes to keep going. God, I would die if he stopped now. He pushed into me fully and I groaned. It hurt in the most delicious way. He started by giving me slow, deliberate thrusts, angling himself to hit my most sensitive parts with every movement. This was something else. Sure, I had had several lovers after my ten-year marriage, but this was a different experience entirely.

He leaned over me and the rickety table lurched under our combined weight. He took some of his weight off but was still deep inside me. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, his voice throaty and deep, "I want to really fuck you, but I don't think this table will take it. Hold onto me."

Before I had time to react, he lifted me up off the table. I gripped his arms and he held me secure against him. He knelt down on one knee and lowered me onto his coat which was laid out in front of the stove. I felt the weight of him on top of me and it felt amazing. I lifted my hips up to meet him and held onto the backs of his arms.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He drove me hard into the floor, making me cry out in pain and in pleasure. Each time he rammed into me, I felt myself getting closer to the edge. It was rare for me to be able to orgasm during sex, so I usually didn't get my hopes up. But the way he was hitting my clit every single time was driving me wild.

I felt my orgasm growing, ready to crash over the edge. I looked at Marc but I couldn't speak. All I could do was silently beg him.

He understood and leaned into me, giving me three more deliberate thrusts. That did it and I shook violently underneath him. I cried out into his chest, and I felt him release into me as well with a groan. After a moment we laid on his coat side by side breathing hard. I felt an extreme wave of tiredness come over me, but I was blissfully happy.

Marc propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. He leaned down and kissed me deeply and I felt my body stir again. I was still wearing my bra and my wool socks. I saw that he was wearing one sock and I laughed out loud.

"We look a mess!" I said, laughing.

He laughed too, finding his other sock and putting it back on. "I was afraid if I took the time to take off my clothes properly, you'd change your mind. Plus," he placed a hand on my abdomen, his thumb under the wire of my bra, "I had other things in mind."

"Oh really," I teased him, "what other things would that be?"

"First of all, how did you get away with keeping this on?" His thumb slid up my breast and found my left nipple. I inhaled sharply but didn't stop him. I had always been very sensitive about my breasts, and I usually at least left my bra on, if not a tank top, during sex. But this felt...the only word that came to mind was ache, but a good ache. I felt my nipple harden under his touch and suddenly the right one longed to be touched the same way. He stopped and I gave a pathetic squeak of protest. I saw him give that devilish half smile and he went back.

He kissed me again, while he played with my left nipple, then reached around to unclasp my bra. "May I?" he asked, and I nodded. He removed my bra but instead of looking at me, he continued to kiss me, working one nipple and then the other. I could feel myself getting wet again and I must have arched my hips towards him. Without missing a beat, he had one hand down between my legs. He rotated circling my clitoris and then sliding one or two fingers into me. I was panting now, totally out of control. I didn't even care. I needed to come again. As if he knew, Marc placed two fingers in me and his thumb on my clit and beckoned me from both sides. His left hand still worked my nipple. He leaned down and I felt his breath hot in my ear, "Should I let you come again?"

I knew he was teasing me, but God Dammit. I couldn't let him stop, not now. "YES!" I answered. He circled my clit, agonizingly slower this time and I bucked my pelvis in protest.

"Yes?" He raised his eyebrows.

Fuck him. FUCK. HIM!

"Yes, SIR!" I moaned, "Please let me come!"

"That's better." he answered, and I felt him apply more pressure to my clit at the same time his fingers probed me from the inside. He pinched my right nipple, pulling it and making me submit to him in every way. Then he bent down and took my left nipple in his mouth, sucking and gently taking it between his teeth. This was too much. He couldn't do this to me. I moaned in weak protest as every sensation was overloaded with pleasure. I heard him let out a small chuckle as he kept working my nipple with his mouth. He was enjoying torturing me and I was letting him. I was enjoying it too. I couldn't think, his hands and mouth, and....