This could go well, or this could end really, really badly. It was way too soon to tell which way it would go.
I grabbed coffee and sat at the breakfast table, tucking the phone back into my pocket. I could do my first practice run this morning if I hurried and got some food in me. Kat might not even wake up until after I’d returned.
Only Mia was at the table with me, as it was early. Fortunately, she was lacking in curiosity about where I was going, gazing out the window and daydreaming over her mug of hot tea.
I doubt she even heard me when I told her goodbye and headed for the door.
Chapter 9
Mia
We weren’t even through the second full day of our magical winter holiday anniversary, and already plans were going awry. The house was amazing, luxurious and well-appointed with every indoor activity and comfort we could ever need in the next week until New Year’s Day. I hadn’t expected everyone to participate in every activity, but as the days progressed, people seemed to be opting out of the itinerary more and more. I hoped this wasn’t a trend.
April seemed on edge about something to do with Jordan. Kat and Lucas had been pitted against each other in a ski race. Jenna and William were cute and adorable, as always, but not fully on board with the group activities. Heath just snarked about the schedule twenty-four-seven, despite participating in every one, and admitting—after the fact—that he’d enjoyed it.
On top of everything else, my own husband was acting weird af, and I had no idea what to do about it. First of all, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d started on amphetamines recently and was riding a perpetual, frenetic high. Maybe it was withdrawal symptoms from confiscating his phone? Poor dude was clearly addicted to his device, as I’d accused him of many times. Regardless, he’d made no attempts to get it back, nor did he even talk about it at all. He’d surrendered it to me without comment, stoically, and you’d have never known that thing was his constant and unwavering companion.
So maybe that wasn’t the reason behind the weird behavior. I sipped my tea and looked out the picture window from the dining table laden with the remains of lunch. The caterer had quietly delivered breakfast and cold lunch early this morning. I’d grabbed a flaky tuna croissant sandwich, and some sliced fruit. Everyone had finished their meal and gone their separate ways, and I was, alone again.
I’d handed Adam the business card his mysterious friend had dropped off yesterday, and now he was in our room, making a call on the cell phone he’d borrowed from me.
I sat contemplating, making plans.
I’d been hoping Adam and I would be getting frisky by now. I’d planned and prepared for it, as a matter of fact, having ordered a series of sexy lingerie—a different one for each night we’d be here. Each silky, lacy confection would be successively trashier than the one before it, a sexual advent countdown, until the series culminated on our anniversary night with the infamous Agent Provocateur faux chain-mail bikini. The very same one I’d indulged him with on our wedding night. I hadn’t worn it since, specifically saving it for our night alone in our own special retreat. Hopefully, it would have the same effect on him as it had then. I was counting on it, because we were coming out of a dry spell here.
So, last night had been the sapphire lace teddy. Very tasteful and almost bridal-night virgin chaste with a hint of flirty sexiness. I’d waited until he was in bed to make my grand entrance, covered in the matching silky robe. I’d stood by my side of the bed, coughed to pull his attention from the pad of paper he’d been making notes on. Then I struck a pose and slipped the robe flirtatiously off my shoulder, batting my eyes.
He’d watched me, fully alert and interested, while the fire crackled in the background and flurries of fresh snow whispered against the window.
His eyes slid over me, appreciative but not salacious. If I was being honest, I’d admit to wanting a bit of salacious. More than a bit. It had been over a week, on a rare day we’d both been at home one afternoon. I was on my way to a lab, and he’d dropped by the house to grab something before an afternoon meeting in LA. We’d taken quick advantage of the impromptu rendezvous.
And quickies were great and all, but it was about damn time for some hot, steamy, dirty, sexy fun that lasted longer than a fifteen-minute nooner. So I was encouraged when, with a smile, he laid aside his pad and pen and tugged the sheets back for me to slide in and join him.
He was wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants, which, boo. I hadn’t seen him fully naked in far too long, and it was more than warm enough in here with the fire going and the snug blankets that we’d both be clothed only in our birthday suits very soon.
So the blue lace teddy was just the pregame, but it looked like I’d signaled my intention well enough with it when I pressed my body to his, shivering just a little under the cold sheets and appreciating the warmth radiating off his skin. I leaned in and buried my nose in his collar bone, taking a big whiff. He always smelled so amazing. The material of the t-shirt was so soft, the muscle underneath so hard. I had caught myself an incredibly delicious husband, and I was holding on for dear life, that was for sure.
My nightcap was nibbling on his delectable neck, basking in the surge of hot lust when his whiskered cheek brushed against mine. I attached myself to that neck like a ravenous vampire on a blood bender, and I wasn’t going to let go until every square inch was covered with hickies. Mama was thirsty, and he was my cuppa ice water in the middle of the desert.
Just as I was angling to climb him like a tree, I suddenly felt him go rigid—and not in the good way. Shockingly, he used his arm to nudge some space between us and I pulled back, eyes widening in shock. What the hell...? Yeah, I spoke that with my eyes. Words not needed.
He smiled. “Hey... how about we... up our romance game? What do you think about that?”
My brows came down in a frown. “Um. Well... that’s what I thought I was just doing.”
“You were attaching your mouth to my neck like a sucker fish.”
I blinked. “And you didn’t like it? You usually… I mean... it’s been a while...”
“But we’ve got six nights here. Wouldn’t it be a cool idea if we... took it slower?”
Okay, so my head might have jerked around in the most obnoxious double take ever. Adam Drake never turned down sex. Like ever. He’d have to be half dead. Maybe his mono was coming back?
I pressed my hand to his forehead to check if he had a fever. “Are you feeling okay?”
He laughed. “I’m fine I just... thought it might be nice if maybe we cuddled, spent a little time looking into each other’s eyes, holding hands.”
I raised a brow. “How ’bout a little bump and grind instead? Or a lot of it?”
“Oh sure, we can do that later. But tonight, we should try to maybe just enjoy each other’s company? We can cuddle, maybe watch the fire after we’re done looking into each other’s eyes. We don’t even have to talk. Just enjoy being in bed at the same time. We hardly ever go to bed at the same time.”
Stunned, I sank down beside him. My eyes went to the fireplace. The flames licked and danced against the dark stones and brick. Hold hands? Listen to each other breathe? Had the word cuddle just voluntarily slipped from this man’s lips?
Had we already crossed into middle-aged, flamed-out marriage territory? Were the sparks gone so soon that he didn’t want to jump on me like a ravenous wolf on a wounded sheep?
The last thing I said to him before we spent the longest thirty minutes of my married life just staring off into space while holding his hand was, “Who are you and what have you done to my husband, imposter?”
To which he’d only responded with a chuckle. “Let’s just try it and see what happens.” Which implied that something might actually, you know, happen.
Spoiler alert—it didn’t. We were snoozing before the hour was out, passed out like exhausted puppies after a full day of frolicking. Maybe that was it. He’d just been too tired. Maybe I hadn’t been communicative enough t
hat I’d be willing to do all the work, and all he’d have to do was lay back and enjoy his orgasm.
But no....
That afternoon, he had a full list of activities for us. He’d found a 2,000-piece puzzle and proposed that we go to the upstairs loft where we’d have privacy to work on it alone. From there, we’d be able to look out and watch the falling snow.
With a knowing smile, I surmised that “working on a puzzle” was a euphemism for fitting our bodies together like puzzle pieces. Though the upstairs loft might leave us open to exposure. Maybe the excitement of possibly getting caught was getting his motor running.
Turned out, no. He really did want to work on a puzzle.
I fucking hate puzzles. And he was soon left working on it alone, while I wandered off to use the restroom and then accidentally got distracted talking to my girlfriends in the kitchen while we snacked on a cheese from the charcuterie board the chef had left for us in the fridge. For about an hour, I wondered if he even noticed that I’d gone. When he came down soon after, he didn’t say a thing. No recriminations, no questions.
He did, however, have a list of other activities for us he wanted to do that day. Just the two of us, so we could—and I quote—focus on our teamwork. Every single one of those activities required us to be fully clothed.
Honestly, it was starting to worry me.
Maybe he hadn’t slept as well as I’d thought? I’d have to check and make sure he was getting a full eight hours—and maybe then some. Even if it took me spiking his hot chocolate with some antihistamine to get him to pass out. Dude was like the Energizer Bunny of husbands.
Because he had the energy to drag me out into a virtual snowstorm to “build a snow fort as a team.” Adam had some experience with snow in his childhood, having grown up in northern Washington. But I was a desert-raised, southern California girl.
I wasn’t meant to spend long periods of time in wet, slushy, cold snow. I was like Frosty the Snowman on a temperate day in Hawaii or the Wicked Witch of the West with a bucket of water over her head. Needless to say, I did the complete opposite of what I wanted from him in bed: I didn’t last long. Once I got wet through my pants, my socks and my gloves, I was done for. No amount of coaxing or seeing how close we were to finishing our elaborate palace would get me to stay out there any longer.
Instead, I used the old bathroom excuse to escape and make a beeline for our room, where I peeled off the wet clothes and jumped in a hot shower to warm up. It took me five minutes under the spray to stop shivering. Then I picked out the warmest, fluffiest, fleece pajama pants and a sweatshirt and decided to fix us both spiked hot chocolate. Maybe a little liquor in his system would get him to calm down. And make him more suggestible. Since we had skiing on the schedule tomorrow, I wanted to spend some time today knocking boots.
He was out there almost another half hour before I cracked the window against the blizzard—okay, so maybe it had stopped snowing and there was just a little light yet very, very glacial—breeze. Again, Californian here.
“I made us some hot chocolate. Come in and sit with me by the fire. It’ll taste great with Jenna’s Bosnian cookies. We’ll even cuddle.”
Jordan snickered loudly behind me. I shout-whispered at him to shut up over my shoulder before turning back to see Adam neck-deep in the slush, muttering that our “awesome project” wasn’t finished yet.
By the time he did let go and give up, his hot chocolate had become chilled sludge.
And it was getting dark and almost time for us to go explore a nearby tourist attraction, Vallea Lumina—a unique forest light show. So much for spending alone time together. And so much for feeling his rough, masculine skin and muscles under my hands.
Damn it.
Chapter 10
Adam
Be spontaneous, the list said. It’ll be fun, they said.
And before I’d been able to Google how to be spontaneous on my phone, I’d had to surrender it to the locker. And Emilia would kill me if she caught me breaking into the vault to bust it out.
I had to wing this one on my own.
Problem was, spontaneity was not in my wheelhouse. At all. No, I was the plotter and the planner. I had plans for my plans. And I had no idea if being spontaneous meant I wasn’t allowed to plan our bout of spontaneity.
And besides, when would we have the chance? Each of the four couples and Heath had asked for a reprieve from the relentless itinerary. In addition, Dom Fischer wanted to have dinner with Mia and me.
I’d phoned him earlier in the day, pleasantly surprised that he was here. He was a part owner in the establishment, he’d told me, in much the same way that I had invested in the resort in St. Lucia where Emilia and I had married. But the most valuable part of the phone call had been the little tidbit he’d dropped to me about the existence of a natural hot spring within walking distance of our retreat.
We’d had fun taking private skiing lessons together that afternoon. It felt a bit like teamwork—working on a new skill together. I was satisfied that we’d ticked off that box. But as we returned that evening, all exhausted, my mind was on the next task in upping our marriage score.
I don’t think I could take much more cuddling because it was making me horny as fuck, so I was calling that task done and moving on. Spontaneity. That was the one we were tackling tonight, come hell or high water—but good God, let’s hope not.
After dinner, I coaxed Emilia outside on a walk with me, having promised enjoyment of the newly fallen snow. She’d eyed me suspiciously, not being a fan of the snow, or of cold in general. I might have promised her some great fun warming ourselves up afterward.
Damn, I was looking forward that.
It was an undeniably beautiful evening and even she was drawn further away, enjoying the sky full of stars ahead and the gleaming fresh powder that squeaked and crunched beneath our feet.
I just happened to steer us into the direction of where Dominic had told me the hot springs were. There, the white mountains in the distance glowed under the pale light of the quarter moon.
Emilia exclaimed with delight when she noticed the springs and we watched the steam rise and dissipate into the cold night air above the black, still pools. The air was tinged with a faintly acrid smell, like sulfur.
I turned to her and lowered the bomb. “Let’s go for a swim.”
Her brows shot up. “I don’t have a suit on. Besides, it’s too cold.”
I bent and touched the water. “Feel how warm that water is.” Then I pulled out the roll of towels that I’d tucked under my arm beneath my coat. “Besides, we don’t need suits. I brought these. We can dry off and get dressed again when we’re done.”
Emilia bent toward me to inspect the towels. “Those… are kitchen towels.”
I shrugged. “Who cares? They’ll get us dry, won’t they?”
She laughed. “They are like a foot and a half long....”
“Then we dry quickly and get back in our clothes. Come on... we are never spontaneous. Don’t you want to just do something in the moment? Don’t you just want to live a little and feel the excitement?”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at me silently for a long moment. “Who are you, and what did you do with my husband?”
I’d heard that one before. All too recently.
Without another word, I shucked my clothes, laid them and the towels in a dry spot, and waded into the pool.
“It’s so relaxing on the sore muscles from skiing.” She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m being spontaneous. And I want you to be spontaneous too. In fact, I’d find it a very big turn-on.”
She froze. I leaned back into the water, the steam and heat closing around me. I wasn’t lying. It felt fucking amazing. Just to lay it on a bit thicker, I let out a long sigh, watching my own breath fog out the screen of twinkling stars above.
She moaned and groaned and bitched a little bit. But in the end, she pulled off her
clothes—while I thoroughly enjoyed the view. Then she heaped them on top of mine and joined me.
Yes. Now I had her right where I wanted her. Naked and warm. We were doing this. Spontaneity for the win.
That was another box ticked off the list, and we were that much closer to becoming the top-scoring married couple.
When she got within reach, I hooked my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. “Careful!” she exclaimed. “I had to tie my hair up with no elastic so it wouldn’t get wet. I can’t stomach the thought of walking back in in twenty-degree weather with wet hair.”
“Let me distract you from that thought.” I pulled her flush against me, suddenly feeling my lust come alive, surging through my bloodstream. Oh god, I really wanted to fuck her. Here. Now. And yes, it was so happening. And if she wasn’t on board for that yet, she would be after I’d taken some time to convince her in all the best ways.
She melted against me then, and our mouths found each other. We shared a long, lingering kiss, deeply tasting each other. Her wet skin slid against mine, our legs lacing together erotically. Steam escaped our mouths every time they came apart. I was dizzy with the thought of having her here, more turned on than I’d been in a long time. Score one for spontaneity.
As a bonus, we were ticking another box off the list—a long make-out session. On the list, the making out wasn’t supposed to lead to sex, but I was willing to bend that rule for the sake of my blue balls. The thought of having wet, steamy sex, right here, naked under the stars on a snowy evening was really doing it for me.
Emilia moaned against me and suddenly her legs cinched tightly around my hips. I was so hard I was aching and really wanted to fuck her as soon as possible. But in my rush to coax her into the pool, I’d forgotten to grab the damn condom from my coat pocket. Adam the planner. I’d planned so well, remembering to bring the condom with me and failed to grab it when I’d stripped off my clothes in ass-crack freezing weather. Nice going, numb nuts.
For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9) Page 5