The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  “Down the hall…” she moaned. I followed the directions to her bedroom, kicking open the door to see a room white as snow. The lights were dim as I carried her over to her bed, depositing us both on top of the white comforter.

  “Finally, a real bed.” My body cradled between her thighs. I felt better sinking against her knowing that she wasn’t being pressed into the floor or a wall or the snow-covered ground. Her mouth parted as I kissed her chin.

  “Were you planning something special for the occasion?” She laughed breathlessly as I kissed my way along my favorite trail—the one that led from her lips onto the soft skin of her neck.

  “I was thinking—” I nipped her skin. “—of making slow, sweet love—“ My tongue soothed where I’d marked her. “—to my girlfriend.”

  She rubbed her hips up against mine. “Say it again.”

  “Girlfriend.” My breathing became ragged as she ground against my arousal again. “I’ll say it a million times, Channing, but if you keep that up, you’re going to ruin all my plans.”

  She sighed deeply as I pushed myself up, tugging my shirt over my head. Her blue eyes clouded over with desire as she stared at my chest. I’d always been grateful for my appearance, but when she looked at me like that, she made me feel like a fucking God.

  My hands found the edge of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head before I moved to her pants and discarded them just as quickly.

  A growl erupted from my chest. “How many damn matching sets of underwear do you have?” I stared down at the lace purple bra and matching thong that my girl had on, my erection butting against my pants.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  My lip twitched, seeing her nipples perk up against the lace. “For some reason, I think I’d prefer to be tortured finding out.” I bent down, grabbing one of the peaks between my teeth and pulling it, along with the lace into my mouth, sucking her through the fabric.

  Her chest pushed up against me, my hand kneading her other breast. This lacey enticement, luckily for me, closed in the front. My fingers quickly unclasped the bra, releasing her perfect breasts to me. One after another, I worshipped her sweetly soft flesh, drowning out the rest of her body and mine as they begged for more. All I knew was what was under my tongue, the supple bud firming as goosebumps spread over the surrounding skin; the way she tasted just as pure as snow.

  “Wyatt.” My name brought me back, the throbbing of my cock hitting me like a freight train.

  My hands grabbed ahold of her panties, sliding them down the toned muscles of her legs. I stood as I finished pulling the slip of fabric off of her, dropping it onto the pile of her clothes already on the floor.

  God, she was almost as white as her sheets except for her lips and her nipples—small red beacons of what I’d already claimed. Perfect. Pristine. Mine.

  Channing tipped her knees out and my eyes settled on the space between them. Even from here, I could see how drenched she was. Carefully undoing my fly, I pulled my jeans down over my aching flesh eagerly jutting out to point at exactly where it wanted to be. She moaned, her foot sliding slightly on the covers. I was driving us both crazy.

  Stepping to the edge of the bed, I put my hands on her knees, letting one slide down her leg so my fingers could brush over her folds. My gaze returned to hers, heavy with need, as I moved back onto the mattress, the cloud-like softness bending under my weight. Her legs spread wider to accommodate me as I lowered myself slowly over her. I stopped, air hissing from my lips when the tip of my cock brushed her entrance.

  I bent my head. “Slow and sweet, gorgeous,” I whispered against her ear as my hips pressed forward, pushing me ever so slowly inside her tight heat.

  Inch by inch, I let her muscles draw me further into her heaven. Her fingernails dug into my arms and I tipped my head down to watch my length disappear inside of her. It was then that I noticed her chest wasn’t moving, that she’d been holding her breath as I filled her.

  “Breathe, gorgeous,” I ground out.

  “I can’t.”

  Fuck. My teeth closed onto her collarbone, savoring the explosive stillness of being seated inside of her. And then my hips began to move—along with her chest as she exhaled.

  Slow and sweet. I moved inside of her, our bodies finding the rhythm of the ride. I held it together as long as I could, but then she slid her leg up along my side, letting me sink even further inside of her.

  “I want to give you slow and sweet.” I forced my hips to comply with my words.

  “Wyatt…” she moaned. The way her eyes looked at me, I knew what came out of her mouth next was going to shred my control. “I don’t want a slow and sweet ride.” She gasped as I pushed inside of her again. “I need you fast and furious.”

  I froze, pushing myself up slightly. Her leg bent easily as I inched it higher and locked it over my shoulder. “As you wish.”

  I slammed into her, claiming the deepest part inside of her. Channing lost it underneath me, her hips undulating uncontrollably, her body arching as her need destroyed her. Maybe we should have stuck to frozen grounds and equipment room walls; her bed shook violently underneath us. I felt her one hand gripping my shoulder and saw her other fist into the covers.

  Covering her mouth with mine, I swallowed her moans. She bit my lip and my cock almost exploded. The waves of my climax began to grip me; I needed her release and I knew just how to get it. I tore my lips from hers, grabbing her nipple between my teeth, pulling before sucking her hard into my mouth.

  She shattered and her orgasm claimed mine.

  Channing shook so violently underneath me, my own release no less intense, that I couldn’t hold onto her breast. My hips moved on their own, burying my cock inside the pulsing heat that milked me.

  “Holy shit,” I exhaled, collapsing onto her chest. Our hearts pounded violently against one another, trying to slow their racing pace. I slid off to her side, but pulled her with me, unwilling to leave her warmth just yet.

  Her big blue eyes looked up at me. “Who knew calling me your girlfriend would make such a difference?” Her lazy smile that flashed told me she was teasing.

  Meanwhile, I wondered what would happen if I called her my wife; I bit my tongue and held that thought to myself. It would happen, but not yet.

  “Oh, you think it was the girlfriend comment?”

  “You have a better idea?” One eyebrow raised adorably.

  “I might.” My finger languidly traced down the side of her arm. “Now that I’ve finally had you in an actual bed, Miss Ryder, let’s just say that you have been well and truly frothed.” The words almost made it out before I burst out laughing.

  My arms raised to cover my head as she grabbing the pillow from underneath her and proceeded to hit me with it. “How’s.” Thwack. “That.” Thwack. “For.” Thwack. “Frothing.”

  I groaned amidst my laughter as the movement caused me to finally slip out of her. The abuse stopped but the laughter didn’t. Whether the delirium from the sex was a contributing factor, I couldn’t be sure, but for minutes we just lay there laughing at ourselves—at each other. I couldn’t remember any one of my gold medals having made me smile so big.

  “I want you to come to dinner Saturday night,” I said as soon as we calmed down.

  She eyed me skeptically. “I have to see if I’m on the schedule to work. There’s an event going on and I don’t know if they need me or not.”

  “Well, tell them they can’t have you.” I cupped her cheek. “My parents are flying in Saturday morning and I want to take you to dinner so that you can meet them.”

  I watched in slow motion as she processed what I was asking, the look of anxious surprise spreading over her beautiful features.

  “Dinner…” she mumbled. “W-with your parents…”

  “They’re flying in for the Games and not only do I want you to meet them, but my mother has been hounding me to meet you.” I grinned, gently rubbing the pad of my thumb over her cheek.

  “T
hey know about me?” I laughed because she said it like she was my dirty little secret.

  “Of course, they know about you, gorgeous. You are my girlfriend, after all.”

  “I have a feeling they knew about me before I was your girlfriend though,” she grumbled underneath her breath.

  “So, is that a yes?”

  “I guess so.” If she chewed any harder, she was liable to bite right through that lip of hers.

  I pushed on her chin, forcing her teeth to let go of her flesh. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked away from me. “I-I’ve just never met the parents before.”

  I hated to see her self-conscious like this. “Channing, they are going to love you. Trust me.” Almost as much as I do, I wanted to add.

  “Hopefully.” She tried to give me a reassuring smile, but I wasn’t fooled. I could try to convince her now, but that wasn’t how my girl worked; she needed to see things—do things—for herself to believe them. I had no worries though, the way my mom talked about a girl that she hadn’t met yet had me thinking that Zack and I would soon be vying for second-best in her eyes.

  Thud.

  Our heads whipped towards the door.

  “Did you hear that?” She barely breathed the words as we listened.

  “Yeah.” We’d both heard the loud thump that sounded like it was coming from somewhere in the house. We both lay perfectly still, barely breathing while we waited for confirmation.

  I pushed myself up. There wasn’t another loud noise, but a soft rustling that definitely sounded like it was coming from inside the house. “Stay here.” I demanded tightly, quickly climbing over her and yanking on my clothes.

  I carefully opened the door to her room, looking over my shoulder to see Channing sitting up in bed, watching me intently with wide-open blue eyes. With the door open, the shuffling and rustling became much more distinct. “Basement,” I mouthed, turning and quietly headed for the stairs.

  I moved quickly and efficiently down the stairwell. If there was an intruder, I had no idea what I was going to do when I caught him, but there was no way I was letting him get anywhere near Channing.

  I located the basement door immediately when I saw light shining through the frame. Someone was definitely down there. I grabbed a knife out of the knife block, gripping it tightly in my hand as I reached for the doorknob. I slowly turned the knob, holding my breath until the door gave way. I pulled it towards me, letting more of the light spill out. The noises were definite now. Someone was pulling out drawers and moving paper around—at least that was my best guess. I put one foot on the top step, cursing as it squeaked slightly under my weight. The rustling immediately stopped. I imagined that the both of us—myself and whoever was down there—remained frozen, waiting to see who was going to make the next move.

  All of a sudden, I heard something slam and then another loud thud, similar to the one that Channing and I had heard initially.

  “Fuck.” I flew down the stairs, realizing what the thud was.

  Nothing. Empty.

  I was too late.

  Whoever had been in what I assumed was Chance’s bedroom was out the sliding door by the time I burst in.

  I walked over and locked it. It was pitch black outside and the most I could see was a few trees; whoever had been here was long gone. Moving back, I glanced around the room. I’d never been down here before so I had no idea what the hell was missing or messed and what wasn’t. For the most part though, I couldn’t see much of anything that looked like it had been touched.

  What the hell was going on?

  I needed to tell Channing; I needed to let her know that she was safe.

  “What the hell are you doing? I told you to stay upstairs.” I couldn’t help the edge in my voice. She didn’t know it was safe yet and still she came down here when I explicitly told her not to.

  She looked like she hadn’t heard a word that I’d said; she looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  “Channing.” I tossed the knife onto the bed, walking over and pulling her into my arms. “What’s going on?” I felt her shoulders begin to shake seconds before I heard her tears. “Jesus, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I crushed her tighter against me. “You’re ok. We’re ok,” I tried to soothe her. “I don’t know who it was, but they are gone now. Doesn’t look like they took anything anyway.” I kissed her head—her hair—gently rocking her as her sobs grew more violent.

  I felt her hands curl into the front of my shirt, pulling it against her face to try to stop the torrent of tears that spilled from her eyes.

  “You’re starting to scare me, gorgeous. Please, tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do.” The pain in my chest was unbearable, seeing her hurt like this.

  I couldn’t do anything else—couldn’t say anything else. All I could do was hold her and so, I fucking held her like my life depended on it. I absorbed her shaking into my body, her tears into my shirt, her sobs into my chest. I took it all and hoped I was giving her whatever she needed in return.

  Minutes later, she finally began to calm down, her shaking now only caused by her hiccups. My head turned down to hers as I felt her shift against me. I stared into her red-rimmed, broken blue eyes as she said, “I think it was my brother. I think it was Chance.”

  I SHOULDN’T HAVE CRIED. I shouldn’t have said anything. But I’d seen a ghost—or at least felt one. Only, he wasn’t a ghost; he was my living, breathing brother. And he was gone before either of us had entered his room. There was no question in my mind that it was him; he was my twin. And he’d come home.

  Except he’d tried to do it without anyone knowing.

  Any hope that I’d felt was quickly doused and stomped completely out when it hit me that after all these months, after all the calls, all the texts, every attempt to reach out to him, he finally returns in the dead of night, trying to make it as though he had never been here. And that’s the moment everything crashed around me—including the heart-stopping fear I’d felt coming down the stairs, wondering if Wyatt was ok, wondering what I would do if something happened to him.

  How could Chance do this? Again…

  The pain that had ripped through me the day I’d shown up at the hospital to pick him up after PT only to find out he was gone was there all over again, burning through my body like acid. All I could think was, what had I done? Why didn’t he want to see me?

  The harsh reality hit me that if Wyatt hadn’t been staying over tonight, I—and Ally if she were home—would have been fast asleep and we never would have even known that he’d been here.

  But Wyatt was here. And now he was surely wondering why Chance had broken into his own house and why I’d lost my shit over it.

  “Hey,” he said softly. I felt his hands slide to my head, lifting it up to his. His light kisses sprinkled like snowflakes over my face. “What’s going on? Why would you think it was your brother?”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat, framing my response cautiously. “Because only he and the guys have a key to get in here and the door wasn’t busted.”

  “So then why are you crying, gorgeous?” His thumbs brushed the traces of wetness from my cheeks. “Forgive me for not understanding, but he’s your brother. And this is his house, too.”

  “I-I know.” Think, Channing. And think simple. “I was just so afraid that something was going to happen to you. T-that’s why I came down here a-and then when I realized it was j-just Chance, all that unfounded fear and anxiety overwhelmed me.”

  “Fuck, sweetheart,” his lips crushed mine, “you scared me for a second.”

  The shock of finding Chance was wearing off and the reality of losing Wyatt consumed me.

  “I just realized that I don’t know what I would do without you.” The hushed confession didn’t even sound like it came from me, instead, it echoed around us from a place so far down inside of my chest—a space that had been empty until Wyatt.

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He forced my gaze to his. “You don’t ever have to wo
rry about that.” His fingers held my chin. “You don’t ever have to worry about losing me. I will never leave you, Channing. Unless you ask.”

  “I would never ask.”

  The world stopped, only starting again when his lips touched mine. The next thing I knew, I was being laid in my bed. The warmth of his touch disappeared as he stood to remove his clothes and then he climbed in next to me.

  “Don’t go,” I whispered groggily, feeling the alluring pull of sleep after the long, eventful day.

  “Told you, gorgeous. I’ll stay up with you all night, I’ll hold you all night—whatever you need, I’ll never leave.” His lips against my forehead was the last thing I felt.

  “You seriously expect me to wear this?” I held up the black dress that Ally had thrown at me. I’d asked her if she could give me something to wear to Big Louie’s tonight because Lord knew I didn’t have any bar-party clothes. Aka I didn’t have anything nearly as sexy as she did. And since this was Wyatt’s and my first night out, I wanted to look hot. I was also hoping some confidence in my attire would ground the nervous energy in my stomach.

  This was our first date.

  It wasn’t really, but in public with my friends and not on the mountain, it was.

  “Um, yeah?” Her blank stare daring me to argue. I hadn’t told her about what happened last night.

  This morning, Wyatt and I decided to take the next few days off from our morning training. It had been years since I’d woken up and not gone to the mountain—if I didn’t count the days I’d been medically forbidden to. Instead, we woke up and went for coffee; it was so simple and so right.

  Surprisingly, our conversation only briefly touched on the odd events of the middle of the night, but I assured my very protective boyfriend that I’d text both my brother and the guys today and ask if it had been either of them. The web I’d woven had become impossibly entangled; posing as Chance was one thing. Posing as Chance and falling for his biggest competition was another. If Chance had returned… the thought made me see that the plans I thought I’d built on solid stone were nothing more than a house of cards. I’d watched Wyatt drink his mocha, his eyes never leaving me, and for the first time, I’d felt like I was enough.