Snowed In: Dylan and Kimo

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dylan Masterson fought to stay in his lane as he piloted southbound Highway 101 through the violent storm on the rugged Oregon coast. Fear and excitement surged through him as the mid-December weather intensified with the temps dropping quickly to just above freezing. High winds buffeted his car. His wipers raced at full speed and couldn’t keep up. Tall forest trees lined both sides of the two-lane highway.

An eighteen-wheeler dumped a heavy water spray across Dylan’s windshield. He smiled at the fear and excitement of being blinded for a few seconds. At the next curve, a northbound car hydroplaned into Dylan’s southbound path. The car ahead of Dylan swerved right, avoiding a collision, but broke into a spin and skidded on the gravel shoulder, coming to a rest against the hillside and its minimal shoulder. The wheels were in a small gully gushing with water.

Dylan stopped on the shoulder by the marooned vehicle with his four-way flashers going as memories of his crash two years ago flooded his mind. He jumped out, climbed into his rain slicker, and ran to the other car while he grabbed for his cell phone. He dialed 911 and waited. His heart pounded. He squinted and realized he had no cell phone service. The other driver emerged.

Dylan yelled over the howl of the wind, “Hey, you should stay in your car and don’t move to protect your injuries. I have no cell service, but I’ll drive back until I do and call for the highway patrol and an ambulance for you.”

The tall, well-built young man flashed a smile. “Bro, chill out. My car just kissed the hillside. No big deal. You look like it was you who crashed.” He finished snapping his full-length red raincoat closed and pulled the hood over his collar-length black hair. “Thanks for stopping.”

Dylan wondered what accent he had. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m cool.” He knocked his head. “Hawaiian skull, extra thick.” He cackled into the storm as he surveyed the situation. “Regular passenger cars suck in this environment. I want my four-wheel-drive, but it’s in the shop. My boss made me take this.”

Dylan stepped up. “My Subaru has four-wheel drive. I have a tow cable.” He smiled at the big man’s calm.

“Let’s go for it.”

Dylan rushed to the trunk and yanked out a steel cable with sturdy hooks and a tarp. He ran back.

The man dropped the tarp, lay down, and checked the underside of his car. “Got a place here to hook to.”

Heavy hail stung Dylan’s face as he transferred the cable. He thrilled at being outside, enduring the forces of nature. “I’ll bring my car up.”

“Good, bro, I’ll wait here.” He laughed.

Dylan backed to the stranded car and got out.

The man stood, still sporting his smirk. “Great day, huh?” He stared at Dylan’s license plate. “California, huh? Where from?”

Cool, we can just chat, standing in the storm. “San Jose, born and raised. That’s just south of San Francisco.”

“I have a great uncle who teaches Jujitsu in San Jose.” He extended a large hand. “I’m Kimo. Hawaiian boy. Lived in Oregon now ten years, since I was eighteen.” Hail collected on his broad shoulders, giving him a regal appearance.

They shook hands. “I’m Dylan.” He swayed in the wind and enjoyed it.

Kimo dropped a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “Bro, you better get back in your car. You’re too small and skinny. You might blow away.” He winked.

Blue and red flashing lights reflected off the hillside as the daylight evaporated. Dylan turned as an Oregon state trooper’s car stopped. A medium height, athletic female trooper exited, decked out in black rain pants and jacket. She donned a Smoky the Bear type hat and secured it with the chinstrap.

Kimo leaned down and whispered, “Bro, you think she’s old enough to be a cop?”

Dylan whistled. “I don’t know. I’m twenty-six, and she looks younger than me. She’s too sexy to be one.”

She approached. “Gentlemen, I’m Oregon State Trooper Washburn. Did you have an accident?”

“No, ma’am.” Kimo answered. “A northbound driver crossed into my lane. I swerved and spun out. Dylan here stopped and is going to pull me out.”

The trooper held her coat tight. “Okay, I’ll back up and use my car and lights to slow traffic. Be careful. The shoulder is narrow and dangerous.”

Kimo nodded and slapped Dylan’s arm. “Come on, bro, I got to get south to Bandon.”

Trooper Washburn yelled, “No way. There’s a landslide south of here. First reports say it’s a two-day clearing event. You guys have no choice but to head back to Florence, two miles north. Better hurry. One motel had a fire recently and is closed. Another is doing a remodel and only has a few rooms available.” She turned to Dylan. “Thank you, sir, for stopping.” She headed for her car.

Dylan nodded and said, “Damn, rain gear does not do justice to her athletic build. I wonder what underwear she has on.”

Dylan got to his car and threw it in all wheel drive and eased on the gas pedal. His tires grabbed and inched forward. Several seconds later, Kimo’s car was free. Dylan stopped and jumped out.

Kimo had the cable undone and handed it to him along with the tarp. “You’re a good guy. Thanks.”

They shook hands, waved to the trooper, and drove off northbound towards Florence with Dylan in the lead. He wiggled in his seat to get comfortable and realized he had an erection.

Dylan fantasized having Trooper Washburn in a secluded room, undressing her in a slow, exploratory fashion. Then his mind shifted to doing the same with Kimo. He considered the potential of having them both in the same room. One would watch as he ministered to the other with a storm blazing outside. Three flashes of lightning jumped his heart and mind back to reality. Adrenaline surged through his arteries as snow fell in huge flakes. Fear and excitement dueled for dominance. His boner ached in his button-fly jeans. He refocused on the road and the quaint bridge taking him to Florence. He turned into the parking lot for a motel. His hard-on subsided as a car pulled in next to him. The motel motif sported a two-story lighthouse with a real, albeit smaller light. Timbers adorned the outside of the quaint structure.

They do quaint well in Florence.

The wind raged as he stepped out, and the snow was close to blinding. The driver from the other car fell in behind him, and they both wiped their feet on the mat in the tiny but warm office.