The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  His fist rammed into the side of the car next to me, laughing painfully. “I shouldn’t. You’re a kid. You’re Chance’s kid sister for fuck’s sake.”

  “If I was a kid, you wouldn’t look at me like a woman.” I pressed into him, my heart tripping as it tried to beat even faster. “And tonight, I could be yours.”

  I rolled my hips against the thick ridge in his pants. It was a cheap shot, I knew. His hands gripped my waist, holding me steady against him though instead of pushing me away.

  His head bent towards mine and I stopped breathing altogether as his lips grazed along the side of my jaw over to my ear.

  “On two conditions, sunshine.”

  Was this real?

  I swallowed thickly, jerkily nodding my head for him to continue because I’d lost my ability to speak.

  “One—I may be the King of this mountain, but don’t ever mistake me for the Prince in your fairytale when I’m just the asshole in shining armor.” His fingers dug into my flesh, now pulling me harder against him. “And two—this never happens again.”

  Now, he looked at me. His eyes just as black as his promise. I knew exactly what he meant. I knew who he was. I knew he was the asshole only to protect me from himself. And that was fine. I didn’t need him to be my prince. I didn’t want him to be my prince. Princes went off to save the world.

  And sometimes, they didn’t come back.

  “I never asked for a prince. Tonight, I ordered dark and stormy,” I said weakly. But like a sonic boom, my words shook the silence and the world fell away around us. Only the tension in the air held us together.

  And then with a curse that sounded remarkably like a prayer, his lips crushed mine.

  He wasn’t soft or gentle, bruising my lips and torturing my tongue. His mouth was decadent and demanding. He didn’t ask for permission or ask if I was ok; he took. He took hard. I wanted more. I wanted it to hurt. I bit down hard on his lip and he cursed, slamming me back against the side of the Jeep, grinding his hips against me.

  Locking my arms around his neck, I fought him for more. My whole body buzzed, high with need, and drunk on him. Emmett reached over and opened the back passenger door; lifting me with his other arm he carried me around to the open entrance to the back seat. I thought he was going to stop and tell me to get in, but he held off, devouring my mouth like it would save his soul. Rubbing his hard cock against me one more time, he pulled back, rasping, “Lie down.”

  I panted, climbing backwards into the car and relaxing back on the seat, propping up on my elbows.

  He didn’t move. And he didn’t look like he had any plans to, staring at me lying in the car with my legs dangling out the door. “Are you coming in?”

  He laughed harshly as he spread my legs wide in front of him. “If I come in there, sunshine, I’m going to fuck you seven ways to Sunday. And I’m not fucking you tonight.” My breath hiccupped. “At least with my dick.”

  “But—“

  “No buts, Ally.” His hand pushed my skirt up. His fingers trailed down over the tights covering my black thong, just brushing over my core that was swollen and aching, to grasp the cheap fishnet stocking. With a quick flick of his wrists, he tore the fabric right down the center. The sound of the threads popping made me squirm. “You want me to make you forget and I will. But my way.”

  I gulped and asked, “And what is that?” I ended on a gasp as his finger brushed over my underwear—over my sex.

  “Fuck.” He swore, probably feeling how my panties had completely melted from our make-out session. I knew he was still fighting himself over this—over me—but he was losing the battle. My insides clenched as his jaw flexed, watching as his fingers teased me. “Has anyone ever tasted you?” I shook my head. “Answer me.”

  “N-no.”

  “Good,” he growled, shoving my panties to the side. “Because this—“ he lifted a finger to his mouth that was coated with my desire and licked it clean, “—is my poison. And I’m going to drink all of it until you die.”

  Oh God. I was already dying. Or I thought I was.

  His large hands held my thighs wide, my sex clenching shyly at being open in the spotlight, until that red halo disappeared between my legs. I felt the barest touch of his lips at the crevice between my thigh and my core. And then his fingers slid through the fishnets on my ass to pull me against his face. I barely felt the brush of his lips before his teeth bit down on my clit. Good thing the shock absorbers in the Jeep were better than most because I flew off the seat against him.

  His name spilled from my lips—a plea… a prayer… a curse.

  “Fuck, you’re wet.” He groaned, licking along my slit. “And you even taste like sunshine.”

  And then before responding was even a viable option, he growled and latched his mouth over me. I screamed with shock and pleasure. No one had gone down on me before and Emmett gave me no mercy—not that I wanted him to. He devoured me like I was both his poison and his antidote; I was the thing that would kill him and cure him in one fell swoop.

  “Oh God, E-Emmett…” Words dissolved into a moan that originated from deep inside my belly. “It-It’s too much. It burns.”

  “Good,” he growled angrily.

  With that he dove back in and swallowed my sex. His mouth was greedy on my pussy. He ate, nipped, sucked, and chewed it out and I had no choice but to take the torture because I asked—begged—for it. I felt the buzz of his hair underneath my hands as I lost control of my body, my back arching as I pushed against his face. This was what I needed.

  “That’s it, sunshine. Fuck my tongue. Burn me.”

  Burn him? I was burning. I was hot. So hot. I could have stepped onto the sun and it wouldn’t have scorched me like he did. My nails scored his scalp as I did what he demanded, feeling his mouth, his tongue, everywhere. At some point a hand slipped into the mix, his thumb beginning to rub firm and furious circles over my clit.

  His tongue speared inside of me, now burning me from the inside.

  “Christ, your pussy is so tight, sunshine, tighter than I ever imagined it to be, and tighter than I never should have imagined it to be,” he groaned. I knew it killed him to give this to me.

  Everything fell away. Everything but Emmett. Just like it always did.

  I caught a glimpse of the way his mouth glistened with my juices before he fell back on me. His tongue crammed back inside of me, in and then out to flick over the swollen nub of my clit.

  My body twisted and tightened—pain, pleasure, hate, and need all coalescing into a giant nuclear bomb inside of me. And Emmett? He was the detonator. His tongue ground demanding into my clit one more time before slipping back inside to give me something to climax around as I flew over the edge. My head arched into the seat as I screamed his name into the confines of the Jeep, my orgasm exploding inside of me. Fun fact, the tongue is the strongest muscle in your body. But as my muscles clenched around him, I swore they were proving that fact false.

  My legs quaked. No, my whole body quaked as I tried to find my way back out of the seismic waves that rolled through it. For a minute, I couldn’t get my hands to even let go of his head.

  Finally, they relaxed and slid up to my face, thinking I was going to need my fingers to pry my eyes open. Thankfully, my eyelids found the strength, but not before I felt the wetness on my cheeks.

  Why was I crying? I quickly wiped the tears from my cheek before Emmett saw. Had my orgasm been that good? Or had my hurt been that bad?

  I was afraid that the answer to both was the same.

  He licked along my slit one last longing time before gently moving my underwear back into place; there was no saving the tights at this point. One tug had my skirt back in place and I was as good as new. Ok, I was better than new. My body felt like it had an electric current running through it; I felt alive.

  I felt…

  If I thought his smirk dirty before, watching the edges of his lips curl when they were still coated with my desire was a sight I knew I’d eve
r forget. It was then topped when the tongue that had just been speared inside of me came out and licked every last drop off of them.

  “Did you get what you needed, sunshine?” he rasped. I nodded and pushed myself up in the seat. “Good.” His smile disappeared as he shoved my legs inside the jeep and slammed the door.

  But not before I saw the prominent ridge outlined in his jeans.

  “What about you?” The question tumbled out as soon as he opened the driver’s door. “And why did you shut me back here?”

  As he slid into the seat, my body clumsily cooperated as I attempted to climb over the armrest into the front. That was until a large bicep got in my way. “You’re not coming up here.”

  “What? Why not?” My eyes bulged out of my head now that I could clearly see what sort of state he was in. I felt my mouth part and tried to force my eyes away.

  “Because of that,” he growled, adjusting himself again. “Now get in the fucking back seat, Ally.”

  I slunk back against the seat cushion, blowing a stray piece of hair out of my face.

  “What about you?” I asked again even though I shouldn’t have cared. He deserved to have his dick squashed for keeping me back here.

  I jolted against the seat as he pulled out of the parking lot, easily picking up speed in the lightweight vehicle. “I’ll survive. Don’t you worry.”

  “Doesn’t look like it…” When I finished rolling my eyes, I saw he was watching me in the rearview. Glaring at me.

  Looked like things were back to normal—just as he had promised. Just like I had promised.

  I let out a loud sigh on purpose and then closed my eyes, my head nodding off against my shoulder as he drove me home.

  Blink. Nick’s car was in our driveway, running. Probably waiting for Emmett.

  Blink. How was I moving up the staircase without walking? Emmett.

  Blink. Moan. I loved my bed. Every night it was like I was falling into a cloud.

  Kiss. “Good night, Sunshine.” Emmett? Or dream? I snuggled deeper into my pillow too tired to care.

  9. I hate the way he talks to me because he’s the only one who responds to the truth in my thoughts and not the words coming out of my mouth.

  Present

  “ALLY.” ZACK’S WARM BROWN EYES stared into mine as he reached for my hands from across the table. He’d taken me out to dinner at the nicest Italian restaurant in town, Mama Lucia’s. I smiled at him—the closest I’d been to some semblance of happy in the past year and a half.

  It was the coldest month of the year, yet I felt warm inside. Chance was finally home. Well, not home home; he’d been living with Nick since he’d returned. I shouldn’t have expected things to be the exact same with him back, but I never expected my brother to have turned so closed off and cold—even to Chan and me; he wasn’t the same brother that he’d been before the accident. But I would take what I could get.

  Channing was finally happy and completely in love with Wyatt. She’d even competed in the X Games last week under Chance’s name, nailing one of the hardest tricks possible—or so they told me; she’d lost, but she’d done it on purpose. And now, I was out to dinner with my handsome, caring boyfriend. Not that we’d made it official or anything like that, but we’d been practically inseparable since the day we met.

  “Zack.” I bit my lip slightly, knowing how much he liked it. We hadn’t slept together yet, but maybe tonight would be the night now that my body had recovered from my second attempt at skiing earlier in the week.

  It seemed like the right thing to happen as far as how romances went. Wow, what a horrible reason that sounded like. Fairytales weren’t for me. I’d decided that I didn’t need nor want the fireworks—the crazy, blinding, consuming love that Channing had found; I didn’t even have that with Dylan and look at what losing him had done to me. No, I just wanted a semblance of happy.

  Over the past few weeks, I finally felt myself moving on from my heartbreak. Not on, forward. Not that being with Zack made me forget Dylan—that love and pain was always there. But, I was happy enough to dampen the discomfort.

  It was the kind of happy that I’d felt when Dylan had given me the Claddagh ring that was still on my finger—just before he died. The kind of happy I felt being back here with my siblings and my old friends—just before Chance left without a word.

  The kind of happy that should have had me running as far and as fast as I could. The kind of happy that should have had me expecting the next words out of Zack’s mouth.

  “Ally, I’m going back to Canada,” he said gently; his eyes apologetic, his smile tight.

  My blank stare told the story of my life. How could this be happening again?

  “You mean with Wyatt and Channing?” I asked, my voice wavering nervously.

  My sister and her boyfriend were going back with Wyatt’s parents to spend a few weeks where he’d grown up. Also, so that he could meet with the group of investors who were helping him fund the new snowboarding high school that he was starting.

  I knew it wasn’t what he meant. I asked anyway.

  He squeezed my hand and I realized that I should pull it away. He sighed heavily and said, “No. I mean, yes, I’m leaving with them, but I don’t think I’m coming back.”

  The waitress brought the ultimate chocolate cake that I had ordered for dessert. I wondered if the sugar might stop the bleeding. It did give me an excuse to pull my hands away, tucking them into my lap, my nails digging into the flesh of my palm.

  “Why?” I whispered, unsure if I was even asking him or if I was asking God… the universe… ‘Why me? Why again?’

  “I’m sorry, Ally. It’s not because of you…”

  Great, the old ‘it’s not you, it’s me routine.

  “I have school. I’ve been on winter break from grad school, that’s why I was down here. And I know I said I wasn’t sure that school was for me but, I’m not a quitter. After everything with my brother and the school he and Channing are starting, I’ve realized that I need to do this; I need to see my decision out. I’ve been going back and forth, mostly because I don’t want to hurt you,” he broke off with a muffled curse before closing off one more loss to add to my books. “I’m sorry, Ally. I like you. I really like you. But this is something that I have to finish.” His words were like a hammer pounding on my heart that already couldn’t beat properly. “And I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to wait for me… or anything.”

  And now, he just sounded awkward. The first part was legit. The last part was his way of saying that he didn’t think he’d want to come back here after school regardless of whether or not I would wait for him.

  “Of course,” I replied thickly with a nod. “Of course… you have to do what you have to do.”

  The next few minutes were blessedly swift, full of false reassurances that I was fine—something I was proficient at now, well wishes, assurances that there were no hard feelings. Bull. Fucking. Shit.

  Not something I would normally think, but painful situations brought out a different side of me; the side that didn’t care. I’d also been surrounded by the SnowmassHoles of Aspen for long enough now that something—if not someone—was bound to rub off on me at some point.

  The dark chocolate cake stared at me, tempting me, from its to-go box on the bar. Zack may be leaving me behind, but don’t you worry, delicious chocolate-y cake, I would never forget you.

  “What can I getcha, Miss Allz?” Jimmy, the fabulous bartender, gorgeous gay man, and my former co-worker at Big Louie’s asked me. I had a month left until I turned twenty-one—and in the state I sat down in, I knew he wasn’t going to refuse me.

  It was also an hour-ish before closing, which mean the place was pretty sparse and Big Louie was already home; he wouldn’t have been sympathetic to my emotional state that necessitated oblivion.

  “Rum. Double.” Made from sugar. The perfect addition to my date with the cake in front of me.

  I laid my head depressingly on the bar, strumming
my fingers on the sticky wood. Didn’t care. I wanted to burst into tears, which is why I couldn’t go home. I was so damn tired of crying. A drunken, sugar high seemed like a much better option.

  Jimmy set the glass of dark liquor and a fork down in front of me, propping his elbows on the bar and leaning over.

  “Want to talk about it?” he kindly and obligingly asked. I kept my eyes on him as I downed the entire glass of dark rum.

  That would be a ‘no,’ dear Jimmy.

  It burned, but it felt good. The wine I’d had, while pairing nicely with the Bolognese, had only dulled the side of heartbreak that I hadn’t ordered. I’d been feeling good, but now, I needed to not feel at all. Rum was the answer.

  “I’m not giving you another straight shot,” he said smartly, tisking when I pushed the glass towards him. I hated when he sassed me. “I’ll make you a Dark ‘n’ Stormy, but that’s it, Al. Unless you decide to open up and I deem more liquid medication necessary.” Bribery was never a bad way to get what you wanted.

  I poked the fork into the cake a few times before taking a bite, savoring the way it melted in my mouth. What were the chances that cholesterol would be able to glue all the tiny pieces of my heart back together in addition to sealing my arteries shut? It seemed like a good time to really explore this theory.

  “Let me guess,” a familiar sex-rasped voice drawled next to me, “Prince Charming rode off into the sunset without you.”

  I hated him. I really did. To the point where I thought about stabbing him with my fork if it hadn’t meant depriving me the means to finishing my piece of cake.

  “Go away, Emmett,” I mumbled, instinctively crossing my legs; my body had only one response to him and it hadn’t gotten any better, so I’d learned to live with it.

  Emmett ‘King’ Jameson was the last thing that I needed right now. Darkly delicious just like this cake, he had the power to destroy me from the inside out.

  Ever since Chance came back, I’d seen significantly less of Emmett and I wasn’t complaining—at least most of me wasn’t. Before that, he’d come to Cup of Joe every. Single. Day. To annoy me—to keep an eye on me—to torture me, really. Even after the time I spilled coffee all down his shirt—it hadn’t deterred him.