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Virgil started up the van after putting away the provisions. A cold spackle of snow stuck to the backs of their necks. Somewhere above them, the wind shrieked tearing at the snow covered trees. “What the hell happened, baby girl?”

“That creepy stock boy tried to rape me,” shuddered Beth. “I’m usually never violent like that, I’m usually all talk and no bite, but rape is a different story with me.”

Virgil didn’t blame Beth, for feeling such a way about such a topic and he didn’t blame her for plunging the knife into Gus’s boot, he’d have done the same. “Well, you whooped his ass baby girl!” Virgil kept his voice light despite the bit of violence she displayed.

The sky was starting to get streaks of gray and purple. The ride to the cabin was mostly silent, but an understanding silence; the kind where person A completely understands the fear of what just happened to person B and won’t try to strike up a conversation unless person B wants to start a conversation.

The cabin was a sprawling cabin, not the cramped little things from the movies she loved so dearly. Beth unclicked her seatbelt and zipped up her black sweatshirt up to her throat and shivered, just a little. Beth slipped inside of the cabin. “This place is huge!” she cried from within. Virgil came in and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his chest and stomach to her back. “I’d love to live in a place like this!”

“You like it?” asked Virgil.

“It is missing one thing,” purred Beth who turned around in his arms. She traced a swirling pattern over his chest. “You…on top of me…we’re naked…on the bear skin rug…”

Virgil chuckled he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her, deep; the kind that takes one’s breath away. He pushed her down onto the bear skin rug and got on top of her. Both laughing, both undressing each other, both ignoring the man staring in the window.

Virgil rolled off of her and landed on his back on the bear skin rug, panting and gasping like an old cart horse.  “That…that was fun,” he said, out of breath. The cold came back to Virgil all of sudden as his hand moved about the rug for his shirt. “Great…way to warm…up…for a few…moments.”

He discovered Beth was wearing it as a dress as she stood up and rummaged through her clothes, bringing up a tiny little brown belt, she cinched the shirt. “Looks good, no?” she giggled. Beth loved the warmth of a fire and the sharp smoke-smell of burning maple logs.

Virgil sat up and wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her down on top of him. Kissing her bare neck and laughing as she laughed and playfully fought him as he tickled behind her knees. “Virgil!” laughed Beth, smacking his arms playfully in a frenzied manner. “St-ha ha ha-op!”

She got away from him and ran into the kitchen, giggling, leaving him to put his briefs on. Beth went for the fridge, for a cold beer when she noticed the back door was sitting wide open, snow blew into the cabin. “Virgil!” He came running into the kitchen. Beth’s eyes were blazing with terror. “Did you leave this door open?”

Virgil shook his head but chuckled. “No wonder it got so cold so fast,”  he chuckled as he closed the door. Virgil clicked the lock.

Beth unlocked the door and opened the door once again. “Don’t close it! A robber murderer bad guy could be in here!” Beth spoke in her deep countryside voice, an accent from the deepest south, where men were apt to handle snakes on a Sunday morning.

“Baby doll, there’d be foot prints from the snow,” said Virgil, closing and locking the door once more. He picked her up in his arms and sat her on the counter, kissing her deeply, hands crawling under the hem of his t-shirt. BANG! Virgil stopped and looked at the door. It was open once more. “Seems we have a busted door!”

He looked around and saw a cabinet of kitchey doo-dads. Virgil tried to move it, but was having very little luck at doing so. “Need help?”

“Yeah, get your sweet little Alabama back side over here and help me move this,” he chuckled. Virgil watched as a pink blush appeared under the smattering of freckles on her face. With the two of them, the cabinet of kitchey doo-dads made a perfect make-shift door.


Beth pressed herself against him, feeling his body heat. Her index finger and middle finger walked up Virgil’s chest to his shoulder as she kissed his peck. “Let’s say me and you go upstairs and find the bedroom,” she purred. “And remake what we made on the rug.”

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