by Claire Adams
His response was to cover my demands with his lips as he kissed me and continued to move slow and steady with his body. He was deliberately trying to draw out his own pleasure all while I was begging for him to bring me to my climax.
His slow and steady movements had my body on edge with excitement, and soon, I felt the stirring of a delicious explosion. My pelvis started to tingle, and my thighs tightened while Declan continued to move inside of me. He felt my reaction and slowed himself even more while he took some time to kiss and play with my nipples.
“Oh, no, keep going,” I begged, only to be met with his devilish smile.
His big blue eyes looked at me, and I melted into submission and let him continue on with his plans. The scruff of his beard scratched and tickled all at the same time while his lips wrapped around my body and pulled my nipple into his mouth. His firm pulling motion delivered the pleasure and pain my body had been waiting for as his hips delivered a few hard thrusts.
“Yes,” I cried out. “Yes.”
His perfect timing was all my body needed to finally give in and explode. I grabbed his face and pulled him up to me to kiss him while he continued moving and forcing my body to give in to him. When he saw that I had fully released, only then did Declan give his body permission to also release.
The moment was perfection. Lovemaking like I’d always wished it could be. No wild positions, no cute little toys, just the two of us getting to know each other in the most carnal of ways.
Declan let his body rest atop of mine as our sweat mixed together and our breaths overlapped each other. I needed that moment more than I wanted to admit. The stress I’d endured over the last several weeks was enough to stress out anyone. My muscles released into relaxation as Declan slipped beside me and wrapped his arms around me. Nothing about our time in Breckenridge would be forgotten, especially not that moment we spent together in bed.
Chapter Seventeen
Declan
“What if we kept the rooms exactly how they are and just renovated the chalet without major construction?” Emmi asked as we sat eating some warm bread she had made that morning.
“I can’t believe you made bread.”
“It’s not that hard, Declan,” she laughed. “Basically flour, water, and yeast.”
“But still. This is amazing. You could have been on that Survivor show,” I joked.
“Right, because they had gas stoves on that show. Can we get back to working? If we are stuck here, we might as well make use of our time and test out some plans for the property.”
“I don’t know what the regulations were for the remodel, but I think if we are not pulling down walls then we don’t have to put in new supports. But for safety, I’d want to still put in the basement supports at least.”
“Now we are talking. So let’s make up some plans that only include the basement supports and not knocking down other walls or adding onto the building. I like the layout, but it just needs some modernization.”
Emmi was on the right track. If we could modernize the chalet without a major rehab bill, then we’d be able to stay on track. Or at least that was what the idea was; we really wouldn’t know for sure until we got the ideas back to our team at home. Originally, I wouldn’t have dared leave the layout as it was. The only option I considered was totally gutting the place. But after spending several days there, I realized the charm that the chalet had was because it was small and quaint and that feeling might be nice to keep.
The problem was going to be how we could update the place enough to make it feel like a modern getaway that celebrities would want to post about on their social media accounts. Small rooms just weren’t going to cut it. Also, we had to have some sort of theme to draw people in, or a gimmick that would catch their attention, and we had neither of those at this time.
“What if we did a modern twist on the Real World television show in the suites? You know, like crazy colors and wild furniture in each of the suites?” Emmi suggested.
“I don’t know. That would be cool, but I was thinking of different themes for each of the rooms. Maybe we could do that in one of the rooms and even invite past Real World cast members to come stay. I bet I could even get actual pieces of furniture from the sets.”
“You could?” Emmi asked in shock.
“Yeah, I could.”
“That would be perfect. Okay, then what other themes could we have in the other rooms?”
We spent our entire morning engrossed in our work. Emmi took the measurements we had written down for Rosa and used them to sketch out some possible designs for the resort. We weren’t catering toward the snooty rich and famous types; instead, our chalet was going to be geared toward the social media influencers and hip, new, up-and-coming crowd.
One idea after another was thrown into the ring, and we debated the pros and cons of each of them. Some of the ideas we kept were Emmi’s, some were mine, but together we added to each idea to bring our overall idea to life. It was invigorating to work with someone who had ideas similar to mine and could see what I was trying to suggest when I did a horrible job describing what I wanted.
“A slide?” I asked as we tried to figure out what to do with the great room.
“An actual slide?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yep. What if we put an epic slide from the upstairs hallway right into the living room? Not a normal slide or one that looked like a kid slide. I’m thinking a clear tube slide that is modern and sleek.”
“I could see making this into a hip hangout place then, something on the lines of the Google lobby?”
“Exactly. That’s exactly what I was thinking. Comfortable, modern, and fun. We want the 20-somethings who influence social media to have their pick of amazing photo opportunities. We need to be thinking Instagram photos with everything we design.”
“Yeah, like how will this couch look on Instagram,” Emmi said as she continued to sketch out our thoughts.
“And the pool out back. I’m not sure what room we have, but I really want a grotto.”
“Like the Playboy mansion?” Emmi laughed.
“That’s not the only place where there is a swimming pool grotto. But yes, something like that. It will keep the warmth of the water in, and we could put a little waterfall and hot tub in there. I’d like another hot tub up higher though, so people could sit and take in the views of the mountain.”
“I’m not sure about the structural issues, but let’s draw it out so we can show the staff.”
Emmi was just as excited as I was as she feverishly drew out the plans we were coming up with. Her drawing wasn’t professional, but it was clear enough to give our designers a vision of what we were thinking about.
We sat on our couch that was moved right in front of the fireplace and continued to think about and design each room of the building. We even thought about the scary basement and how we could turn it into a movie theater room.
“Having the basement as a screening room is exactly what we need to book more film festivals here. We won’t just get the people who want to go to the festival; we will have the directors and producers staying here so they can hold private screenings.”
“That is a huge selling point, but you can’t skimp. I’d make a little concession stand and even little movie theater entrance. You’ll want the pictures to be amazing when they are posting about the private screening they are doing.”
“For sure. Wow, this is perfect, Emmi. I can’t even remember what the original design for this place was. As soon as we can get the city inspector out here, I’m going to show him these and see if he thinks we could do it without the addition of supports.”
“But check to make sure the place will still be safe. We can’t skimp on safety,” Emmi said firmly.
I loved how she considered this project partly hers and was concerned about the safety of people staying there. Emmi had literally only worked with me for a few days but was already concerned about the long-term outcomes for my project. She
wasn’t even planning on sticking around, but she still wanted to make sure no one was hurt and there were no safety issues. I really liked that level of work ethic.
Our relationship was in a weird place. We spent the day working and talking only about work, but as the light slipped away and it turned to night, our work personas also slid away, and we turned into a couple just hanging out at a large chalet alone.
By 6 o’clock, Emmi had put all her drawings away, and we were standing in the kitchen trying to combine some ingredients to make an edible dinner. Emmi had a few cans opened and was cooking another loaf of bread, while I was working on melting snow in large pots and boiling it for a warm bath we were going to take after our meal.
“How many pots full of snow does it take to fill up a bathtub?” I asked as if Emmi would know the answer to my odd question.
“Eighty-two,” she jokingly answered.
“Oh, no, I don’t have that kind of time.”
“Maybe you should have a couple pots going at a time.”
“Yeah, and I’ll let a few of them get boiling hot, but the others I’m just going to melt the snow. It should all even out to a nice warm bath when I’m done.”
“You don’t even know how excited I am to take a bath. I feel disgusting.”
I put the large pot of snow I had in my hands up onto the stove and wrapped my cold hands around Emmi. Nothing about her could ever be considered disgusting. I didn’t care if she hadn’t showered in a month; I would have never had such a thought come to my mind.
“You are gorgeous,” I replied as our lips pressed against each other. “I could lick you clean.”
“Eww, no. I’m so dirty.”
“Okay, I’ll put the caramel on your first,” I laughed. “I know what you mean though. It will feel good to have the warm water around us and wash our hair. I’m sure you’ll feel better once your hair is washed. My mother always told me she felt like a new woman when her hair was clean.”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about your family.”
“Nothing too exciting to talk about. My parents lived a good life, and luckily I was able to help them out financially when they retired. My mother passed away in her sleep; her heart just stopped working. I always assumed my father passed away from a broken heart. He only lived six more months and then had a heart attack in his home.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“It was a rough time in my life. Teddy came along then, and he was my father, even if it was only in the business world. I’m not sure he knew how much I needed him at that time in my life, but he was there for me.”
“You know what? I think I remember him talking to my mother about you,” Emmi said as we sat down at the table in the middle of the kitchen. “I was little, but I remember him saying he met a bright young businessman who needed some help.”
“How young were you?” I asked Emmi teasingly.
“I was a teenager,” she giggled. “I’m not that much younger than you, only maybe 10 years or so.”
I rolled my eyes dramatically as the realization sat in. Emmi was literally still in high school when I first met her father and started doing business with him. Man, did I feel old at that moment.
“You are close to 40?” Emmi asked.
I grabbed my chest and thrust backward as if she had just shot a deadly bullet at me. She thought I was 40. Clearly, I didn’t look as young as I thought I did.
“I’m 36, thank you very much. How old are you?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.”
“I’m still asking,” I laughed. “Twenty-four?”
“I’m 26. But I do have an MBA, and I’m definitely not a child anymore,” she teased as she climbed onto my lap and straddled me.
“You are all woman, that’s for sure,” I said as my mouth nuzzled against her chest. “How much longer until we can take that bath?”
“How much water do you have in the tub?” she asked seriously.
“Okay, well I should get back to that.”
“Finish filling up the tub, and I’ll finish dinner, then we can play.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I joked and hurried off to fill another pot with snow.
After filling each of the pots and getting them going on the stove, I went back outside with the large ice bucket and gathered even more snow to add to the pans as the snow was melting. Soon I had four steaming hot pans of water that I carried one by one up to the bath. It took me another 30 minutes to get the bathtub filled up, and then it was actually too hot to even sit in, so it worked perfectly for us to sit and eat first.
“What is for dinner tonight?” I asked in my playful British accent.
“Tonight’s dinner is a combination of seared Spam and a vegetable casserole.”
“Mmmm, seared Spam, what a delicious treat,” I teased. “I’m going to vlog about this later.”
Emmi laughed, and we sat with each other eating the only protein besides beans that we had been able to find. I had never tasted Spam before that night, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Certainly, Emmi’s method of cooking and seasoning it had probably played a big role, but it was edible and filling so I couldn’t complain at all.
“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Emmi asked as she sipped her glass of wine.
“By the way, good job finding the wine,” I said. “I can’t believe I missed that closet.”
“You’re welcome. Now, tell me more about you.”
“I wanted to be a pilot first, but then I realized I didn’t really want to be responsible for all those people’s lives. When I started getting good at snowboarding, I considered becoming a professional in that field as well. But I don’t think I ever had one thing that I knew I wanted to be. I can certainly say I never thought of being a hotel owner. That wasn’t even something on my radar.”
“Do you like working with my father?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t even be working on hotels if it weren’t for him. He had a great idea to work together, and we have been enjoying our success ever since. I was perfectly happy designing my snowboards and living a comfortable life. I didn’t long to be super rich or anything like that. I just wanted a job that would pay my bills.”
“I hated money growing up,” Emmi said. “It was like my father wanted more and more of it and didn’t have the time for anything or anyone else.”
“I’ve never seen him like that.”
“It’s probably because you were the one spending time with him. My mother and I spent all our time waiting for him to come home.”
“Good point, you’re probably right. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. My father and I get along just fine now. There are no hard feelings. He’s been a really good father to me. I can’t complain.”
“I think we should change the subject. I’m full. Are you ready for a bath?” I said with a huge smile.
I held my hand out for her as she sipped her last swig of wine. The two of us made out way back upstairs to the large suite so we could soak in the tub.
“Wow, you filled this whole thing up?” Emmi asked as we looked at the larger-than-normal tub.
“Yep, I’m pretty amazing, I know.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” Emmi said as her hands started to pull at my shirt. “I’m sure I’ll think of some sort of way to thank you, though.”
“I’m sure you can think of something.”
“This must have been a lot of hard, stiff work,” she said in her little seductive voice as her hand grabbed my body and started to stroke me.
“Oh, yes, it was hard.”
Emmi turned toward the bathtub and took off her clothes as I watched like a schoolboy about to get to see a woman for the first time. She mesmerized me. Every movement she made was slow and gentle, as if she was purposefully teasing and titillating me before getting into the tub.
As she lowered herself into th
e water and looked up at my throbbing body, a smile crossed her face. She delicately licked her lips and then bit lightly on her bottom lip while looking up at me. My body shivered with desire as I stood there thinking about what an amazing week we had had together.
If we hadn’t been trapped together in that chalet, I might have never gotten to know this side of Emmi. Fate sure did work in mysterious ways.
“Get in here so I can thank you properly.”
Chapter Eighteen
Emmi
The warm water of the bath was like a long-awaited massage to my body. But the soap in my hair was what I had wanted desperately. With a small amount of soap in my hands, I rubbed it through my damp hair as Declan sat behind me rubbing soap in his hair as well.
Our bath wasn’t meant to be erotic; it was a necessity that we both felt we needed after nearly a week in the chalet.
“Let me help,” Declan said as he pressed his fingers into my hair and firmly moved the soap around.
“Oh, my God. That feels amazing,” I moaned in more of a sexual tone than I meant to.
It was the truth, though. The movement of his fingers on my scalp sent my nerves exploding as they tried to come to terms with the unique feeling of pleasure. A scalp massage wasn’t at all something I’d thought I wanted, but as Declan moved his fingers around, I didn’t want him to stop.
“Does that feel good?”
“Oh, yes, keep going. Don’t stop.”
“That’s what she said,” he joked and then laughed at his own comment.
I was too wrapped up in what was going on with my head to even snicker at his corny joke. I closed my eyes and leaned back to allow Declan to perform his magic on my scalp, each movement sending waves of pleasure through my body.
“It feels so good,” I said softly. “Let me show you.”
I didn’t give Declan a chance to refuse my offer as I stood up and then slid back into the bath behind him. I pressed his ass forward so I could pull his body back against mine and run my fingers through his hair as I gave him a scalp massage.