“Thanks for the negotiation tips.” I growled.
“That sounds like a great idea, Jordan,” April nodded enthusiastically. “I think you and I should have a similar deal. Loser of a race to the bottom from here is committed in sexual servitude to the winner.”
Jordan cocked his jaw at his girlfriend. “You only want to do that because you know that you’ll win. I ain’t no fool. I won’t take that deal.”
April struck a pose and stuck her lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Well you suck, then.”
A wide grin crept across his face. “If you’re lucky, yes, I will suck. Tonight.”
“Can you two do your foreplay somewhere else, please?” I snapped waspishly. Some of us were standing here trying to figure out how to get through the next couple of days without breaking their neck on a mountain thousands of miles from home.
“Alright, bro. It’s probably not going to be pretty.” He pointed down the slope. “Go that way, really fast. If something gets in your way, turn.”
I gave him a gesture to show him how much I appreciated his helpful advice. With a laugh, he turned and pushed off without giving April any warning. She yelled after him and then pushed out onto the slope, quickly overtaking him despite his daring and flashy snowboarding moves.
I sighed. As irritating as they were, they were sure making this look a lot easier than it really was. I squared my shoulders in preparation to follow them at my much slower pace. There was no way off this mountain but down this damn hill. After waiting a few moments for Jordan and April to clear out, I gritted my teeth, bore down on my poles, and pushed forward, praying wouldn’t kill myself in the process.
A long time later—by the aching of my body, it felt like I’d aged years, at least—I made it to the bottom of the mountain. I was sore from the crown of my head down to my ankles and walking like an octogenarian.
This day had not been good to me, and I’d had to put up with more ribbing from Jordan even later that evening back at our cabin. If he wasn’t my boss—and I wasn’t feeling my age plus sixty years—I may have hauled off and punched him to shut him up.
The kicker to an awful day? When my hot wife came on to me at bedtime. I was so sore and miserable, even after taking maximum doses of Motrin, that I couldn’t deliver what she was asking for. So, feeling like an eighty year-old man in more ways than one…
I almost, almost suggested calling off the race. But she brought up the race right after my failure to—ahem—launch. Since my ego was even more bruised than my body, I couldn’t let it go.
I just needed more practice—on an intermediate ski run.
And more painkiller. Definitely more painkiller.
Chapter 17
Mia
For the second day in a row, I popped out of bed early, and Adam was still dead to the world. We were both early risers out of necessity these days, but I rarely was the first one out of bed. I tiptoed out of the room, letting him sleep. He was still acting weird, and we hadn’t gotten much further than the skinny dipping/death by imaginary bear shenanigans in the hot springs down the lane.
Part of the group had opted to ski again today. Part wanted to participate in our scheduled activities. We enjoyed a lovely, scenic ride in the Peak 2 Peak gondola that took us across the valley between Whistler Mountain and Blackcomb Peak. It was an impressive ride, though poor William had sat that one out, having declared he didn’t do heights.
We enjoyed a tasty lunch in a small ski resort cafe on the top of a mountain and a little bit of tubing down a gentle slope in our neighborhood. All the snow fun we could ever want but never get where we lived.
That night, the entire group met up again, and we shared a catered dinner at home. April seemed stressed and upset for some reason, but when I cornered her in the kitchen, she wasn’t talking. Maybe it had something to do with her thesis?
I put an arm around her shoulder. “Well, you know you can come talk to me whenever you need, okay? For anything.”
Once game night began, however, my husband was the one exhibiting the strange behavior.
Adam was acting... off.
He wanted to hold hands a lot—much more than usual. Like the entire time my hand wasn’t otherwise engaged in something important like holding cards or rolling dice, it was held by Adam. No complaints here. What woman didn’t like having a hot hunk at her beck and call? I liked holding hands with him. But he also touched me in ways that weren’t as...natural. It was awkward, as if he were reminding himself to do it.
Touch Mia’s waist once, her back twice, her shoulder three times. Like he was working his way down a checklist—or going through a programming subroutine.
Somebody suggested a game of twenty questions. Each player chose a card from a stack and, without looking at it, held it up to our foreheads so others could read our identities without us seeing. Each of the cards listed a famous personage: historical, contemporary or fictional. You had twenty yes or no questions to ask in order to gather clues to your identity. The person who took the fewest questions to guess their identity won. If there was a tie, there’d be a play-off. Three of us made it into the play-off. Jordan, Adam, and me.
Except those two jerks cheated and I lost, all because they misled me on the very first question. “Am I male or female?” And they said male without question. And it took me far too long to figure out I was R2-D2.
“Not fair,” I narrowed my eyes at them. “R2-D2 is not male and you said he was.”
“You just used ‘he’ to describe him so therefore he is male,” Jordan said.
“Well, that’s neither here nor there. Droids don’t have a gender.”
“C3PO is male,” Adam countered.
“That’s only because Anthony Daniels, who is a man, voices him. But R2 doesn’t even have a voice. How can you say R2 is male?” I made sure not to fall into the pronoun trap that time.
“Well what are you going to call R2, then?”
“Why is it only a choice between male and female? If you’d told me neither, I would have been able to figure out much more quickly it was a droid.”
“Let’s not argue about it.,” Adam said, holding out a hand.
“I’m gonna argue about it because you two cheated.”
Jordan glanced between Adam and me and threw up his hands. “I’m not getting involved in a lovers’ quarrel. Or a marital spat, or whatever this is.”
Adam’s hand was still held out and he wiggled his fingers, like he wanted me to take it. Without thinking, I did. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but R2-D2 is unquestionably male. C3PO refers to him as ‘he.’“
“Pronouns don’t prove anything, and it’s a product of its time. If Star Wars were made now, maybe 3PO would have used the pronoun they. Who on earth decides robots have a gender?”
“Droids.” Adam corrected, squeezing my hand. I released his hand in irritation and pulled back. He didn’t let go. When the others were distracted in the process of setting up the next game, I turned to him. “Why won’t you let go of my hand?”
“Because we’re arguing.”
“We’re disagreeing.”
“Okay, well let’s please not argue about whether we are disagreeing or arguing.”
I rolled my eyes. “My brain hurts. Can I have my hand back?”
“Not ‘til we’ve resolved this.”
I frowned at him. “Um. What?”
“We should hold hands while we disagree. And make eye contact. It’s good for leaving a conflict without having hard feelings afterward.”
I squinted at him. “You’re acting weird.”
And he held my hand for another twenty minutes, when we were well through the next game, a tournament-style multi-board play-off of Settlers of Catan.
“Emilia is the ultimate gamer chick. She’s gonna beat everyone.” Adam said while we played off during the winners’ round. As with before, it was me, Adam, and Jordan, with the addition of Kat this time. Kat had taken umbrage at Adam’s declaration, throwing him some ma
jor side-eye.
When he hopped up and offered to take our dessert dishes into the kitchen, half the room turned to me and asked. “What’s up with Adam, tonight? Is he okay?”
I could only shrug.
And of course Jordan had to insert his less-than-helpful acerbic observation. “I think he’s in the middle of suffering from a brain aneurysm, to be honest.”
Chapter 18
Adam
The next day, we had a lazy morning before preparing for our big group outing—without Jordan and April, who were dining on their own and would probably end up getting engaged tonight. If Jordan hadn’t adamantly sworn me to secrecy, I would have warned Mia.
But surprises were good, and she’d be thrilled for her friend.
This afternoon, the rest of us would be riding through back trails on snow machines to the edge of a glacier, where we’d join up with several dogsled teams to continue the journey through the mountains and watch the sun set from the summit.
But until then, we had a couple hours this cozy morning to do nothing at all. More than enough time to tick off more boxes on my checklist and possibly even finish it off.
I was a little worried, however. Emilia was getting impatient and, quite frankly, my body was on the same page as her. But my own stubbornness refused to blow this chance. Because that damn quiz and its dire prediction of a three-year or less marriage was still weighing on me.
But no worry, I’d developed the road map to get us back on track again—in the form of the handy dandy, technology-free checklist.
After breakfast, we went back to our room. I grabbed some wood from the nearby stack and started a fire to warm us up. Emilia was tidying up the place, gathering the dirty laundry and making the bed, since we’d requested minimal maid service in order to preserve our privacy.
My mind raced with the possibilities of what to do next. To help me think, I opted to take a shower so I could think it through.
But that got me nowhere except a lot cleaner. I toweled off, determined to go dig up my list and have a skim. I wrapped a towel around my hips and opened the door to the bedroom to get my clothes.
The room was tidy, the air warm from the now healthy fire. And Emilia was there, waiting for me. Full makeup, hair beautifully styled and her body stretched out across the bed, head propped up on her bent arm.
Her nighties had been getting progressively racier each night. And right now, she was wearing the sexiest one yet… an elegant weaving of scraps of white lace, straps and huge swaths of her gleaming bare skin.
Well... gulp.
Instant boner under my towel. Holy shit. She was stunning, all laid out like a five-course meal, waiting for me. And every single part of my body was ravenous and ready to indulge.
“You chilly?” I asked after clearing my throat. My voice, even to my own ears, sounded tight, strained. But I couldn’t help noticing those deliciously erect nipples perking up to say hi, hence the question.
My tongue was already tingling with the thought of tasting them, suckling, even nibbling.
She licked her lips. “I’ll be just fine when you come over here and take off that towel.”
“Are you telling me you like my body, so I’ll hold it against you?” I quirked a smile at her.
“Let’s just say I’ll make it worth your while.” She extended one of those long, delectable legs and bent her knee so that I got a better view of the fact that she had no panties on. Shit, I could just jump on her now without removing a scrap of her clothing and have my way with her, any way I liked.
In fact, that sounded incredible.
Things were already feeling tight, achy, and painful down below. And clearly, the state of things was visible beneath the towel because her eyes focused on the bulge. My entire being and thought process was also focusing on that bulge at this moment, damn it.
I swallowed and my heart raced in the pulse at my throat. Maybe it would be good to get this out of our system, now, so we could go back to the checklist and getting the necessary things done to up our relationship game.
Because those nipples, those nipples looked very much like they wanted my mouth around them, my tongue lapping them up until she moaned and gasped my name. Yes, that was exactly what they needed. And what I needed, too.
I headed to the bed without another thought about the checklist.
Emilia’s eyes lit up the moment I adjusted the towel, and my eyes scoured every inch of that luscious, rich skin—and there was a lot of it. Damn, this was a delicate, frilly, and trashy thing she was wearing, and I was here for it. All of it.
I wrapped my hand around her ankle and tugged hard enough to pull her down the bed toward me. “Come here. You are giving me very naughty thoughts right now.”
She grinned wickedly. “Am I being a temptress?”
She knew exactly what she was doing, damn it. Temptress and all. Who’d have thought this sex goddess spread out on my bed was once the sweet and innocent—and easily riled—virgin I’d first met face-to-face in an impersonal and cold hotel conference room? My eyes roamed the length of her. That girl was a million miles away from the woman she was now. Not that I wasn’t irrevocably in love with both of them.
And I couldn’t afford to let things slide. We were on a good track, and so far, the checklist had served me well.
Wherever it was. Where was it, anyway? Had it been thrown away? Damn it. I was reluctant to ask for my phone back because I really had wanted to prove to her that I could—and that I respected and honored her wishes enough to do it without a second thought.
But maybe I could get Jordan to grab the phone for me? He could unlock it and send the checklist to the printer in the business center. He’d give me incessant shit for it, but he’d do it.
Emilia was massaging me through the towel with her foot. Right where it felt the best. A blast of desire crackled through me in an instant. I dropped the towel and fell on the bed, pinning her beneath me. “Oh, I think someone is about to get fucked very hard and very well.”
She writhed happily beneath me. “Yes to both.”
I grabbed her chin roughly and pulled her mouth to mine, smothering hers in a needy and insistent kiss. She tasted like wine and chocolate and heat. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, hungry, greedy for more—for it all.
Didn’t I used to have a photographic memory? I swear to God…why couldn’t I see the list in my mind, like I usually could? Especially something I’d written down myself.
Emilia moaned, her fingers threading through my hair, sending hot shocks of pleasure raining down my spine straight down to my cock. The list had to be in the back pocket of my jeans. The jeans...where were they? On the bathroom floor? In the travel laundry bag? Shit, what if she’d picked up the paper and threw it in the fireplace while I was showering?
Emilia’s breath panted between her lips as I shifted my hips to rest finally between her warm, open thighs. Exquisite. But, goddamn it, all I could think about was that fucking list and how I was probably violating the tenets of it six ways to Sunday. The advice had clearly said not to rely on sex to patch over problems in a marriage.
Wasn’t I doing it right now? Would having sex undo all the good we’d been building the past few days?
I needed that list, goddamn it.
I gave in to the endless repeating loop in my head, pulling away from her. I moved to the nightstand. She stretched across the sheets like a cat, a lazy smile on her lips. Likely she assumed I was fetching a condom.
“I already grabbed one. Right here.” She twisted at the waist to hold up the crinkly wrapper between thumb and forefinger. “See? Get back here. I need your cock—and you.”
“Good, because we’re a package deal.” My eyes scanned her nightstand after having searched my own. No list there.
“I’ll, uh, be right back, gotta hit the bathroom.”
Her arm lowered slowly, face clouding. The laundry bag was in the bathroom, right?
It wasn’t. So after running the sink for a m
inute and searching the back pocket of my jeans on the floor, I left the bathroom and slipped into our large closet.
“Adam?” she called from the bed.
“Give me just a minute. Be right there.”
But no, it was more than a minute as I pulled from the laundry bag every article of clothing I’d worn since we’d arrived. I checked every single goddamn pocket, then went back and turned them all inside out. No fucking list.
Goddamn it.
By the time I’d returned to the room, I found it empty, the sexy lingerie in a puddle on the bed. Well shit.
Chapter 19
Jordan
The big night was here, and I’d crammed the planning into every spare minute I’d had, finding ways to sneak off and communicate with Anna about every detail so that we were on the same page. The concierge was actually quite good at covering details I hadn’t considered and used her connections to pull strings all over the resort.
I’d even had time to break away and go test the gondolas the day before. Anna had ridden with me and taken notes as we talked our way through how everything would go down.
Hopefully without a single hitch.
This was going to be the epic proposal. The one she’d be talking about for years to come.
No other Whistler proposal would be more romantic. I’d see to it.
So it was now only a matter of getting her there on time. I checked my watch again. April was taking a queen’s age in the bathroom to get ready for this special night out together.
I hadn’t even given her the details about dinner in the gondola, yet. No, that was all part of my epic surprise. I couldn’t imagine having butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies were way too dainty for what I was feeling. No, these were definitely dinosaurs stomping around down there in the Land Before Time where everything was economy-sized, even the bugs. My entire gut was a forgotten prehistoric biome at war with itself.
For The Holidays (Gaming The System Book 9) Page 10