by Amy Daws
But it’s better this way. It’s naughtier and more forbidden. It might be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever done with a girl.
I kick the blankets off both of us and push my loungers down. The weight of my erection causes my strained cock to flop onto my belly.
“Holy shit,” she croaks, chewing her lip excitedly as she stares at me. “How do you wear those tight pants all the time with that anaconda?”
My stomach tightens with laughter. “I get them tailored all the way up to my balls so there’s just enough room.” I grab myself and stroke once, head nodding to her hands. “Keep going, boss. This is getting good.”
She smiles shyly and lies back, flicking on her vibrator again before slipping it under the thin fabric of her panties. She’s moving quicker now, wasting no time as she ramps herself back to where she left off.
My eyes drift to her nipples, rock-hard little pink buds straining against the sheer fabric. I will bite those nipples tomorrow, I lament and speed up my hand as I notice her breaths increasing and her little noises getting louder and louder. She struggles between closing her eyes and riding her pleasure to watching me as I sit up on my elbow and pump myself like it’s my last dying wish.
“I’m close,” she cries, her back off the bed now as she moans a deep sound. She wiggles the vibrator along her clit in quick, swift motions, her forearms tight with the effort.
“Look at me when you come, sugar tits,” I command, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I need to see you fully let go.”
Her wide, wanting eyes lift to meet mine and I wince as I try to hold off. I’m close too, so fucking close. But I can’t blow it before her. I need to see her lose herself just once…I need to cement the image of her writhing in pleasure into my brain forever.
“Oh God, Dean!” she cries out, her voice high-pitched and loud as her free hand fists the sheet and her legs begin to shake. Her lips part as she utters this long, weird noise that’s not exactly human sounding. She finally looks away and drops onto her back, her chest heaving as she struggles through the aftershocks of her orgasm.
My name on her lips when she loses herself might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. For years I’ve thought Norah was gorgeous from a distance. This perfect, untouchable, unbreakable snow globe. But seeing this other side to her…this sexually awakened essence beneath all the lists and organizing and business plans…it’s incredible. And it’s no wonder I couldn’t say no to her tonight.
I’m gripping my dick like a vise and the second I relax my hand, all the blood rushes to the tip and I’m jacking cum all over my belly and chest.
“Fuuuck, Norah,” I cry out as I fall onto my back, my entire body spring loaded as my cock pulses out the aftermath, dripping down my shaft and onto my groin. Jesus, I’ve completely lost myself next to this woman.
“Oh my God.” Norah’s voice is awestruck and I look over to see her staring openmouthed at the whole scene of me jacking all over myself like a teen who doesn’t know the trajectory of a good orgasm. She looks at me, smiles her innocent smile and says, “This is going to be so much fun.”
“We’re riding bikes down a mountain?” I ask dubiously over a cup of coffee as I sit at the breakfast counter in the fancy mansion kitchen watching Barb, a woman apparently hired to cook for us, butcher the omelets.
“Yep!” Lynsey beams from her seat next to me. “We take a big chair lift thing up to the top, rent our bikes and gear there, and then ride downhill. It’s a bunny hill type of route so not too treacherous. I have prizes for whoever comes in first.”
“That sounds fun?” I say it like a question because I’m not a super active person. I’m the walk through the mall in air conditioning type. Doing anything on a mountain besides skiing seems way too adventurous for me. I didn’t think Kate was super outdoorsy either, so I’m surprised this is our activity for the day. The itinerary said we were riding bikes but I was expecting the ones you can rent to ride around Aspen and go shopping.
Barb ruins her fourth omelet, splashing raw egg all over the gas burners and I can’t take it anymore. I push back from my stool and move around the counter to stand beside her at the stove. “Do you mind if I take over?”
The woman’s wide, worried eyes blink back at me. “Could you? I’m a fill-in for the guy who was supposed to be here and omelets are my kryptonite. If you can do better I’ll be your sous and we can split the payment.”
I press my hand to her shoulder. “I don’t want money. This is fun for me. We’ve got this.”
I grab an apron stashed in the catering box, and Barb and I find a rhythm in the kitchen as the rest of the group begins to trickle in looking almost as satisfied as I feel.
“Norah’s making the omelets?” Kate cheers excitedly. “That’s sweet! As payment I shall give you one of the eighteen sex toys I went home with last night.”
Barb quirks a shocked brow that everyone ignores as they regale the events from last night. Our evening was apparently a lot more exciting than the guys’. But I’m barely listening to what everyone is saying because my mind is re-living what happened to me later on.
I masturbated in front of Dean Moser. Good God!
I woke up this morning hoping I’d dreamed it, but when I saw my pink vibrator sitting on the nightstand in the bright morning light, the entire act came back in full clarity. And the worst part—it wasn’t just the alcohol that made me do it. Or that stupid minty oil the sex toy woman told me would make my vagina feel silky.
It was Dean. And the physical reaction my body has whenever he’s around me. I’ve been denying it for too long and last night, I just snapped.
He was still sound asleep when I woke up this morning so I figured I could either watch him sleep like a loser, or come out to the kitchen and avoid him like a winner.
“Good morning, everyone,” Dean’s voice booms, and I freeze after flipping the final omelet and focus intently on the sizzle.
I see him out of the corner of my eye moving toward me. Oh my God, what’s he going to say? Please God don’t let him make a joke about my sex toy in front of everyone. Barb will think so much less of me!
He snakes his hands around my waist as I freeze in place, holding a spatula in front of a hot flame. His manly scent engulfs me as he presses his hard body into my back and nuzzles my neck with his bearded jaw. “Good morning, sugar tits.”
I growl-smirk while turning around to glare at him. “I told you what would happen if you called me that.”
“Promises, promises,” he jokes and leans in to drop a chaste kiss to my lips, his hand lingering on my hip and dipping to fondle my ass in front of everybody.
I can’t stop smiling as I turn back to the stove and place the last omelet onto the large serving dish. Dean snatches a piece of bacon off the tray Barb just finished plating and I swat at his hand. “Go sit at the table and wait, you animal.”
He winks at me and makes his way over to an open seat. When I finally tear my eyes off him, I discover Kate is staring at me with the biggest smile on her face I’ve ever seen. She presses her lips together, caught in a rare moment of silence and turns to join everyone getting ready to eat.
Breakfast goes semi-smoothly but we all have to rush back to our rooms to get ready for our excursion. Dean already showered and dressed so once again, I’m dressing alone and wondering what the fuck is going on between us. Was that display in the kitchen just for his friends? Was last night a one-time thing? Is he embarrassed we did that? Will we do more of it?
My mind is reeling by the time I join everyone in the big van that’s taking us to the chair lifts. Dean is beside me in the van and he’s quiet as he rests his hand on my thigh the entire journey. I open my mouth several times to say something but I stop myself. Now is not the time to figure out the inner-workings of our fake relationship.
We arrive at the Snowton Bike Park chair lifts, which are these giant pods that can hold up to six people or three people and three bikes. Since we’re renting bi
kes at the top of the mountain, Dean and I squeeze into a pod with Max, Henley, Sam, and Maggie. It’s a quiet ride and the beautiful view of the changing aspens is ruined by the flashes of bikers I watch going over these enormous jumps.
“What is this, the X-Games?” I croak, my hot breath fogging up the glass as I stare down at my future death.
“We’re not doing the jumps trails,” Dean replies casually and squeezes my leg.
My palms begin to sweat and I scooch away from him because my entire body gets clammy. The thing is, I’m not an athletic person. I can ski, kind of. I can play volleyball, a little. I can swim pretty well but only because my body has this strange natural buoyance that makes treading water shockingly effortless. But bike sports…so not my thing.
I manage to keep my inner freak-out to myself, hoping that once I’m suited up in my bike gear and see the trail we’re taking, it won’t be so bad. Lynsey called it a bunny route, right? If I can ski a bunny hill, surely I can bike a bunny route.
Kate, Miles, Lynsey, Josh, Sam, Maggie, Max, Henley, and Dean are all lined up in that order, suited with helmets, gloves, and funny looking shorts with butt pads that Rachael did not have the foresight to pack for me.
Lynsey’s voice calls out, “Okay, this is a timed couples race and there will be prizes.”
“What?” Dean’s posture perks up as he straightens his bicycle helmet. “You didn’t tell me it was a race. I would have stretched.”
I cut Dean a WTF face while Lynsey rolls her eyes and continues, “There’s a sweet prize for the winning couple and let me tell you…you want this prize, guys. I want this prize.”
“Yeah!” Max calls out, clapping his hands. “Let’s do this.”
“Since we’re all taking the same trail, couples will be spread out with five minutes between each heat. Kate and Miles…you’re first. Dean and Norah…you guys will be last. We’ll meet at the bar at the bottom of the hill and the trail guys will write down our finished times for us to reveal at the festivities tonight.”
“Woohoo!” Kate squeals excitedly. “I don’t even like sports but this is going to be fun.”
Fun? Why does she think this is going to be fun? Nothing about this seems fun.
“Let’s go,” Miles bellows and he and Kate shove off, leaving a trail of dust behind.
Dean hops off his bike and begins to stretch. My eyes widen. “Are you being funny right now?”
“Funny about what?” he asks, extending his arm over his head.
“About the stretching. This a bunny trail, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, you’re warming up like we’re on the Amazing Race or something.”
Dean stops what he’s doing and walks over to where I’m standing, trembling over my bike. “Hey Norah, now might be a bad time to tell you I’m crazy competitive.”
“What?” I exclaim, my entire body erupting in sweat.
Dean grimaces and swipes his finger along my upper lip. “We can’t lose this race. I want that prize.”
“You don’t even know what the prize is,” I shout, my voice venturing on shrill.
Dean’s shoulders lift. “I don’t care. We can do this. I believe in you.” He kisses me chastely on the lips and adds, “Plus, Kate is a horrible gloater if she wins. We have to crush her.”
The other couples take off one by one, and I get this strange feeling I might never see them again. I should have made eggs Florentine for their final meal instead of omelets. If that’s their last memory of me, it’s going to be kind of basic.
Dean holds his fist out to me when it’s our turn and I shake my head nervously at him, gripping my handle bars so tightly, my forearms are already aching. The trail guy waves for us to go and before I can smarten up and abandon this ship, I push forward and begin my descent down this so-called bunny hill.
“Bunny hill my ass!” I scream as I turn off the emergency exit ramp on the trail the guide informed us of during our orientation session. He told us it was meant for the weak and after what I’ve experienced so far…I am so very weak!
A small brewery with bike racks stationed outside comes into sight and I make a beeline for it, stumbling off my bike as I try to hop off while it’s still moving. I let it crash to the ground as I unbuckle my helmet and toss it into the nearby woods.
My heart is permanently lodged in my throat as it clears way to make room for my lungs that are going to explode. I place my hand over my chest and turn as I see Dean approaching on his bike, looking totally chill.
I point an accusing finger toward the trail we just departed. “That was not a bunny hill!” I exhale heavily and move to the fenced off vantage point that overlooks the mountain and the trail we were just on. It looks like this emergency exit is only halfway down the entire trail and I didn’t make it this far by choice.
It was by force.
I was forced into this.
By Dean, the Devil.
“Norah, what’s going on?” Dean asks as he places his bike into the rack and unclips his helmet. “We’re going to lose the race.”
I hold my finger up to silence him. “Your fault,” I bark out, pacing back and forth in my jogging shorts and wincing at my ass that feels like I sat directly on top of a pointy aspen tree. “You never warned me this trip would be this active. What the hell kind of shit are you trying to pull?”
Dean watches me pace in front of him, rubbing my ass cheeks and crying out in pain. “I didn’t realize the trail would be that fast. I’m shocked we’re the only ones who stopped at the halfway point.” He looks back at the few random people sitting outside on the patio drinking beer like it’s just a casual Saturday.
“And all that bullshit cheering you did,” I snap, ripping my gloves off and throwing them to the ground next to my bike. “‘Doing great, sugar! Keep up the pace, sugar! We can catch ’em, sugar!’ Could you not hear me screaming?”
“No,” he exclaims, his eyes wide in shock. “You were in front of me so I couldn’t hear a thing. Norah, God, if you were that scared, you should have stopped.”
“I wanted to but that trainer guy freaked me out about using the front brake and flipping over the handlebars.”
Dean clenches his teeth and nods. “Yeah, that can be dangerous.”
“We’re taking the lift down,” I state, pointing at the area behind the brewery where riders can go up or down the mountain. “I’m going to have PTSD from all this!”
Dean begins to approach me like I’m a snake who might strike. “Let’s get you a drink and maybe an edible or something.”
“I don’t want drugs,” I groan and then fall into his arms as he wraps around me to rub my back soothingly. “I want a time machine so I can go back and stay in the kitchen with Barb at the mansion.” Dean’s chest begins shaking and I jerk up to look at him. “You better not be laughing.”
He purses his lips and shakes his head with a mock frown before lowering his lips to mine in a long, lingering kiss that relaxes me almost instantly. It’s surprising and nice, and I’m a little confused by it because we still haven’t talked about what we’re doing together exactly, but I go with it because it feels good. And because I need it after the journey I just had.
He pulls back and threads his fingers through mine in a waffle hold. “C’mon, sugar butt, let me buy you a drink. I’ll text the others and tell them to go back without us. We can take a cab home.”
It takes two beers out on the patio before I can finally enjoy the mountainous view and stop resenting it. I sigh heavily and move my gaze to Dean, who looks like he’s posing for some outdoor adventurist magazine. He’s as cool as a cucumber, sitting in an Adirondack chair, wearing his white athletic tee and Ray-Bans, drinking a beer, and running a hand through his dark hair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. My eyes lower to his tight black bicycle shorts. Normally, guys in shorts like that are not something that draws my attention…but Dean’s thighs are ridiculously muscular. And the bulge he’s rocking beneath that stretchy
fabric, the bulge that I saw in the flesh last night, is doing really embarrassing things to my body now that I’m no longer screaming in terror.
I self-consciously finger-comb my hair because I probably look like I’m coming down from a manic episode. Which isn’t far from the truth. I take another drink and smile sheepishly at him. “My throat has finally stopped hurting from all the screaming.”
Dean grimaces. “I really am sorry. I have a competitive streak and completely missed the fact that you were freaking out.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off. “I was trying to play it cool.”
Dean pulls off his sunglasses and gazes at me with those caramel brown eyes that I can finally appreciate again, now that rage has cleared from my vision. “Why were you trying to play it cool?”
I pause for a second, chewing my lip before deciding to hit him with the thoughts that have been racing through my mind all day. “I wasn’t sure what last night meant exactly.”
“What do you want it to mean?” he asks, staring at me with a grave look that makes me squirm in my seat.
I shift my gaze and look out at the mountains again. “I don’t know…I was waiting for you to say something. You’ve been acting all touchy-feely with me all day but I didn’t know if that was an act for your friends or because of what we did last night.”
I turn back to see Dean watching me, concern marring his features. “Do you regret last night?” he asks seriously.
“No,” I reply quickly, my eyes wide. “I mean, I was tipsy but I knew what I was doing.” I pause, wiping the condensation on my beer glass with my fingers before nervously adding, “And I thought it was kind of fun.”
Dean’s shoulders seem to relax as he takes in my reply. “I’m really glad to hear that. I’ve been stressed out all day at the idea that I might have taken advantage of you.”
“Taken advantage of me?” I shake my head and huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “It was my idea. I practically threw myself at you.”