The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  Tonight, I didn’t beat myself up about them. There was no one here to judge. My mind flitted through the various spots in the kitchen where Chance had kissed me… touched me… where he’d taught me everything about losing my mind in pleasure.

  At some point, I wandered over to the couch, my fingers gripping into the soft leather evoking another anthology of memories. Sitting and studying while Chance watched TV; my face buried in one book or another eventually turned to Chance’s face being buried between my legs.

  Chance’s parents were great people and loving parents, but if they weren’t involved with something at the school for Ally since she was the youngest, they regularly worked late during the winter, assuming Chance and Channing were out on the mountain. Some days they were. Others, Chance was here. With me.

  We were young—and yet somehow, our relationship with all of its fire and spontaneity managed to become something far too deep and far too strong for what it should have been.

  Like when you watch America’s Got Talent or Little Big Shots… inevitably, some five-year-old gets up on that stage and belts out Beyoncé better than the queen herself. Inexplicable how something so beautiful, so perfect, erupts with a seemingly unpracticed ease. That was Chance and me.

  That was us.

  Tears slipped down my face but I didn’t bother to wipe them. I let them flow. I needed this. For too long, I’d tried to hold back remembering just how happy and in love I’d been because I didn’t want to want it—I didn’t want to need it.

  I cried because I would never stop wanting it. No matter what happened now with Chance, I would never stop wishing that things could have been different, but knowing that I wouldn’t change what I’d done even if I could.

  Hours later and still no word—let alone explanation—from Chance. Why I insisted of thinking about it in those terms annoyed me; I needed to go to bed—it had been a long day.

  With a sigh and nothing left to accomplish, I set my empty cup in the sink, grabbed as many boxes and bags that I needed to go upstairs and trudged into the darkness. The sunshine of Ally’s room brought a smile to my face.

  Almost ten-thirty, according to the alarm clock on her nightstand.

  Shit. My phone was still downstairs. With a sigh, I decided that going back down was far too much work; I’d just set the alarm on Ally’s clock.

  Stripping down and throwing on a light pink silk PJ set, I found my essential bathroom possessions—toothbrush and face wash—and made quick work of using them.

  I think I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

  Someone was here.

  I sat up in bed with a start, my heart pounding out of my chest.

  Where was here?

  Swallowing thickly, it took me a second to realize that I was at Ally’s house. Not my apartment. Not in Tammy’s apartment. But alone in Ally’s family’s giant home.

  Thud.

  Someone was definitely here. Reaching for my phone, I remembered that Genius Jessa had left it downstairs because why would I need my phone in the middle of the night?

  Oh, you know, only to call the police when someone is breaking into the house you literally just moved into a mere five hours earlier.

  Who the hell robs a house at eleven-thirty? At least wait until after midnight, moron.

  Tiptoeing over to the door, I cracked it open and light streamed inside; I’d turned off all the lights before coming upstairs. Ok, Plan A: get to the kitchen, get a knife… or a pan… get something to hit someone.

  Peering over the edge of the railing and down the staircase, I couldn’t see anyone—or anything missing. Only the hall-light was on, the kitchen still mostly in darkness, and the only noticeable difference was that the basement door was open, giving some more light into the space.

  This must be the worst thief ever.

  Great, now I was judging robbers.

  Quietly and quickly moving down the staircase, I slipped around the corner into the kitchen. I swung my hand out right into the island, biting back a curse because it was hard to see what I was doing. Opening the first drawer along the island, I gingerly reached inside. Looked like I wasn’t going to have time to search for the best weapon—thuds on the basement stairs made the decision for me.

  The next few seconds felt like a freakin’ slo-mo, my heartbeats mingling with the steps on the stairs.

  Just swing, Jessa.

  The basement door shut as the steps came closer to the kitchen, and my arms moved up ready to strike.

  For a second, I only saw a shadow. The kitchen light flicked on. A body rounded the corner and I swung like I was Babe-fucking-Ruth.

  Thud. “What. The. Living. Fuck.” At the familiar voice, one of my eyes peered open—I must have closed them when I made my move. My mouth dropped to see Chance standing in front of me.

  I blinked a few times making sure I was really seeing this. Chance looked like a god, but not just any god. He’d be Dionysus—chaotic, dangerous, and unexpected; he was everything that escaped my reasoning and everything that was found in my feelings and my fate.

  Bloodshot eyes and whiskey on his breath, he stood with his entire half-naked body flexed and prepared for battle. Statues should be carved of this man’s chest. Then again, was there a blade sharp enough to make such defined cuts? Debatable.

  “What are you doing in my house?” He looked up at his hand that had blocked my attack. “And why the hell would you pick a fucking rolling pin to hit me with?”

  Gulp.

  Forcing my mouth to stay shut, my arm fell to my side leaving him holding the rolling pin with a grasp that looked like he was about to splinter. All my strength and adrenaline rushed from my body now that my nervous system realized there was no threat.

  And then his burning blue gaze left mine, trailing down my body and making my nipples harden visibly against the silk of my jammies and my sex clench with a new kind of anticipation.

  My nervous system needed a reality check. Worse than an intruder, Chance was a threat to every piece of me that I’d fought to build and keep strong. He was the thief that would steal from me everything that I wanted to give him, but shouldn’t.

  8 years ago

  I PULLED MY MOUTH OFF of her, looking up at the quivering skin of her stomach as her body radiated with that last orgasm. My girl’s face was streaked with tears, crying from the painful pleasure that I’d inflicted on her. Eighteenth birthday. My gift to her? Delivering on the promise I’d whispered in her ear that I was going to make her come for each candle that she blew out simultaneously on her birthday cake.

  Never one to back down from a challenge, she’d extinguished all eighteen of them in one breath. And now, it wasn’t eighteen orgasms, but it was safe to say that I’d just extinguished her.

  I licked my lips that were slightly swollen and numb for going down on her for the last half of them. So fucking worth it.

  “You alive, birthday girl?” I gently kissed the inside of her thigh—another earthquake rolling through her hypersensitive body.

  “Barely,” she rasped, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “I… can’t believe you did that.”

  A laugh erupted from my chest as I pressed my lips to her stomach. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  I stood up at the edge of my bed. My shirt was already off, my jeans unbuttoned after orgasm number five had turned them a unique form of torture device on my throbbing dick. Her eyes widened, noticing the erection exhibit that was about to open in my pants.

  I tipped her chin to look up at me. “Happy Birthday, Jessa.”

  Her pleasure-drunk face lifted with a smile—most fucking beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Now, can I give you a gift?”

  Her eyes twinkled as her hand reached out and grabbed my cock, almost making a fool out of myself by exploding on the spot.

  “Is this what you want?” she teased, reaching into my jeans and fisting me.

  I groaned. “I want you to blow me like you fucking blew those candles earlie
r—hard, fast, and with an ending that will leave my cock smoking.“

  Later, I would tell her just what watching her blow them out and then lick the icing off the bottom had done to my dick.

  With a grin that would come to mean I was in for a fucking ride, she pushed my jeans down and those perfect pink lips closed over me and breathed in my flames.

  Present

  Was I really that drunk? Or that high? Or was Jessa Madison really standing in my fucking kitchen right now with a rolling pin aimed decisively for my head?

  “Don’t make me ask you again.” The way her body shuddered was no illusion.

  She was here. Sleeping in my house. In the most enticing little silk pajamas that I’d ever seen—enticing only because they showed me every movement of her nipples, every quiver of her breath, and in about another thirty seconds, just how wet she was for me.

  “I-I’m living here.”

  She might as well have hit me with the damn rolling pin.

  “Excuse me?” The noose wrapped tighter around my throat.

  “I mean, for right now. I’m staying here.” Clearing her throat, she continued to explain. “I told Ally to tell you—and Channing. My apartment had a small mold issue several weeks ago.”

  “You’ve been living in a moldy apartment for weeks?” I felt my anger rising.

  “No! Of course not. I moved in with Tammy, but among other things, my living style is pretty stressful to her so I was looking for a new place and then Ally offered—“

  “My house?”

  “Her house.” She glared at me as I stepped towards her. “What are you doing here? Obviously, this was all under the assumption that you were living with Frost.”

  “Not anymore,” I growled.

  I’d packed up my shit this afternoon and planned on coming right over here and doing nothing for the rest of the day. Instead, I’d packed up my car and drove around for hours, finally parking at the mountain just as the lifts were closing for the evening. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to come right to the house; I also couldn’t bring myself to find Jessa and explain what had happened. So, I ended up at the mountain just after everything had closed. I’d pulled out the bottle of Powers from my bag of stuff from Frost’s along with a blunt and walked over to the empty, unmoving lift and sat down on the bench.

  It was the story of my life right there—on the chairlift that was supposed to take me to the peak, instead I was trapped at the bottom. I sipped the whiskey in between puffs, letting both work their magic on calming my mind and my anger—trying to feel nothing. Aside from coming to watch Channing, this was the first time I’d been back at the mountain.

  And it was still here—just like I’d left it—waiting patiently for me to find my way back to its solidarity. My body shook as the wind blew right through me. It was fucking cold outside and I wasn’t dressed for it.

  But that was the point of the cold, wasn’t it?

  To drown out every other sense. To distill. To solidify and clarify the world down to the most basic—down to the most important. My body tingled as the feeling slipped away from my limbs, an elucidating numbness where only my thoughts were left—them and whatever was in my heart. In my case, they were one and the same; they were all consumed by her.

  I’d been trying to avoid her and it looked like she’d found me anyway. Me and all of my fucking feelings.

  My fingers twitched with the need to press on her temple and make the furrow between her brows disappear.

  “What happened?”

  “Something fucked up.” I laughed harshly, suddenly overwhelmed with disgust and bone-chilling pity for what my best friend was going through. “There are fucking shitty people in this world, Jessa, you know that? Most days, I think I have it bad with a bum-fucking-knee and no future.” Disdain dripped heavily from my voice, cracking through the silence with its weight.

  “What happened? Is everyone ok?” Pure, unfiltered worry seeped into her tone and posture. I found myself wanting to talk, the sea of anger that I’d surrounded myself parting, beckoning her through.

  “Everyone is fine. For now. But the next few months are going to be hell for Frost.” My jaw ticked. Frost’s story wasn’t mine to tell. “I went to the mountain.”

  “You shouldn’t be putting that strain on your knee—“

  “Calm down, Nurse Ratchett. I went there after it closed. Just sitting.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  “My life. Snowboarding.” I heard the hoarse words resound through the room and that meant that they must have come from me. “Channing and Olsen want me to teach at the school. I don’t even know if that’s fucking possible or that I’m really worth the effort.” My hand gripped onto the counter as I fought not to slam my fist into it. “I feel so fucking lost, J-bird. I feel like I’m fucking nothing and no one without this.” My eyes found hers, pinning her stare before I added, “Just like I felt without you.”

  They were words that I hadn’t even said aloud to myself before because volume implies veracity. I hated my weakness. I hated her for being the only one I couldn’t stop myself from opening up to. Her. The one who’d broken my heart.

  I saw her swallow as she ducked her head at the last part of my admission. Just as swiftly, her gaze rose again.

  “I think we both know that’s not true,” she replied tartly—ignoring the last part of my statement—because a pity party was only what every other woman would do right now. Not Jessa. “But only if you actually show up for your physical therapy, though, because I can’t make any promises if you don’t.”

  “Sorry,” I grumbled, about to mutter something about Frost but realizing that there was no excuse for leaving her hanging. I was angry about what was happening to Frost, about his past coming back to haunt him, and that anger translated over to Jessa.

  Her arms folded over her chest, only helping to lift up those tits like she was about to serve them to me on a fucking platter. “You know I’m going to make you pay for it at your next appointment.” Her adrenaline-infused threat made me laugh. She was so serious about it though that my tongue itched to tell her that she wasn’t very menacing when her eyes were heavy with desire, her words breathless, and when her tits looked like they could—and would—cut through ice to get to my touch.

  “Yes.” My thumb and finger captured her chin. “But, you do know that now you’re the one who’s homeless. In my house. Wearing something that does nothing to hide how much you want me—in spite of how annoyed you are.” Her self-satisfied smile melted. “You’re the one who is at my mercy tonight. You’re the one that I want.”

  I moved my head closer to hers, my dick twitching at her sharp intake of breath. Her body would tell me the truth even as I waited for the lies she would try to slip from her lips.

  Lips. Perfect. Plump. Pink. I wanted to suck on them so fucking bad. And then I wanted them to suck on me.

  “Have you been smoking?” She breathed against me, my mouth almost touching hers.

  “And drinking,” I growled, not in the mood right now for a righteous speech.

  “Why?” She stepped back, putting herself up against the counter with no further space to move.

  “Should be obvious.” I followed her. “Trying to forget.” After today and everything with Frost, she was the only thing that would give me release. My first stroke of luck this whole fucking year that she was literally waiting for me when I got home.

  “Forget what?”

  “That I’m an asshole to everyone and everything when my reality could be so much worse. That there seems to be this insurmountable wall preventing me from moving past anything—from feeling anything but anger; it’s so fucking exhausting. Except around you.”

  “Why around me?”

  My hands gripped the counter on either side of her and I smiled, “Because I want you too fucking bad to think about anything else.”

  Her hands came up against my chest, but even they betrayed her by not pushing me away.


  “What are you doing?” she whispered, my head dipping closer.

  “Should still be obvious, J-bird.” My hips rocked forward of their own accord, just brushing against the front silk of her shorts. Fuck, I wanted to be inside that pussy so damn bad.

  “And if it’s not?” Fucking tease.

  I groaned, letting my head fall down against her neck. “Trying to feel something good for the first time since I don’t even know when; and the only good thing I can think of around me is you.”

  Her pulse raced against my lips. Her skin was so soft, smelling like cherries and cheer. I kissed the same spot again and again, gently paying reverence to the woman who could still very well be some sort of drunken, hallucinogenic dream.

  “Remember the time I fucked you on this counter?” I asked softly against her neck. “I mean the time the ice was involved.” I groaned at the memory. Lately, I lived on these memories. “You came so hard on my fingers I thought your ass was going to fucking strangle the life from my dick. God, I miss…” I swallowed the ‘you.’ I wasn’t that far gone.

  She tensed and I waited for it—for the shitty end to a shitty day, for her to push me away or duck underneath my arms because I’d gone too far, running back up to Ally’s room and continuing the slam-click routine that it was used to.

  And it began—her hands dropped from my chest and I felt her start to pull back.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, seeing burningly bright fireworks in front my eyes as her palm closed over my dick. Was this for real?

  “What are you doing, J-bird?” I was in no shape to be teased. Her other hand pushed on my chest and forced me to stand. My eyes briefly squeezed shut as her fingers slid up my cock to the edge of my sweats.

  “Should be obvious, Chance,” she returned my answer. Of course, she did. And then I felt my sweatpants slip over my hips and down around my ankles. This was how I’d fallen so fucking blindingly in love with her.