The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  “Fine.”

  Truce.

  I lost track of everything for a minute while she chewed on her lip, remembering that lush pink skin gliding up and down the length of my cock—lips that sucked every last drop from me.

  “I’ll be ready to go in fifteen.”

  I just nodded. Looks like I was going to have to deal with whatever questions that she had for me because there was no way after that image that I was going to be able to keep anything sexual under control.

  Eight years ago. The night before graduation.

  “Are you sure about this?” Chance rasped above me.

  We were both panting, our bodies like dark storm clouds waiting to deluge the desire that had built up inside of them.

  His lips still glistened from the orgasm that they’d just given me.

  “Yes,” I said with a voice that was as sure as stone. “I want to feel all of you.”

  Both truth and a lie.

  I wanted to feel like there was nothing between us when there was something between us. A dark, ugly something. Growing like a weed in what should have been the Garden of Eden.

  I wanted to feel nothing between us because in a few weeks, there would be lies, betrayal, and thousands of miles between us when I left and he didn’t come with me.

  He moved over me, kissing along my neck as the tip of his erection brushed against my entrance.

  “I love you, J-bird,” he growled, searching for my mouth.

  I couldn’t—wouldn’t—watch that love wither and die as he realized that I’d been the one to take his dream from him. That moving to Texas for me had ruined his professional snowboarding dreams. Instead, I was going to cut that love off at the source.

  And it was going to hurt like hell.

  I couldn’t even imagine what it was going to take for me to survive it. But I would.

  I would survive, knowing that he was where he needed to be—on the mountain.

  Sometimes, when you love someone, you have to let them go. Not so that they can come back, but so that they can become who they were meant to be. And who we were meant to be wasn’t possible if we tried to stay together.

  “I love you, Chance.” My pathetic cry turned into a moan as his bare cock pushed inside me.

  Mind-numbing kisses and pleasurable fog claimed me and I lost myself in the last moment where nothing stood between us. Where we were joined body, heart, and soul. And when we came, I felt the hot burst of his promise inside my body—the one that said in one way or another, I would always be his.

  Present

  Pine. Eucalyptus. Pineapple. Chance.

  Even with my door shut, the scents from downstairs followed me as I came up to change. With a groan, I moved with an awkwardness that I’d suffered silently to conceal downstairs.

  My ass hurt.

  I’d forgotten about this part. Don’t get me wrong—last night was completely and entirely worth it. But like after every night of good intoxication, I was dealing with the hangover this morning.

  Or in my case, the ass-fuck-over.

  I bent down to grab my yoga pants from off the pile of clean clothes in the middle of the floor, the used and bruised lower parts of me complaining at the strain.

  Even though I’d known the man forever, from the second he’d offered to take me to my old apartment and help me move I’d been a bundle of nerves. This was Chance. Why the heck was I nervous?

  Maybe because after last night, everything was hitting me all at once—his tortured confession the night he moved in, the way he came undone for me, the way his eyes had only been on me all week, the way he managed to claim every last little defiant piece of my soul last night that said I didn’t need him, and now this… his change in demeanor was reflecting too close to the one that I’d fallen in love with.

  Retreating back to my room, I’d changed into yoga pants, several layers of tops, and slipped into an old pair of Ally’s winter boots I found in the closet. I looked like a mess; maybe that would deter him.

  “So, you really missed the cold that much?”

  My eyes slid from where I was watching out the passenger window to Chance with his one hand on the steering wheel, driving casually as though we weren’t doing twenty-five miles-per-hour through the heavily snow-covered streets.

  “Something like that.” I managed a half-smile. “So, tell me more about the school.”

  Speaking in clipped tones, he began to begrudgingly tell me what he knew about Wyatt and Channing’s snowboarding school. I’d gotten the gist of it from Chan weeks ago—before they’d gone to Canada—but I didn’t know any of the details. I listened intently as he explained more about the curriculum, the blending of school and sports, and the time focused on honing the students’ skills outside of the classroom. It was really a great idea; nowadays, there was too much focus on exams and tests and what you knew on paper, when the truth was that there were just (if not more) valuable lessons to be learned outside and from the mountain.

  But all of that wasn’t what excited me most. No, what made me nod my head enthusiastically and held me on the edge of my seat to hear more was the way Chance’s reluctant tone rapidly disintegrated.

  Maybe it was because there was no one besides me to hear him in the complete silence and white emptiness of the world. Or maybe it was because with me, some part of him felt like he could finally let his guard down and put his anger away.

  Maybe that last was just wishful thinking on my part.

  My heart tripped every time I saw a small smile creep out onto his face as his explanation wandered off on tangents about how he thought the snowboarding lessons should be run, how many students there should be, and what the best way was to teach them.

  He needed to do this. He wanted to do this.

  Every second that he spoke all I heard was just how much this opportunity could mean if he wasn’t so stubborn. In that moment, I knew that I would do whatever it took—sacrifice whatever pieces of me that were left—to make sure he took his sister and Wyatt up on their offer.

  “Well, I can speak from experience and say that how you helped me learn to snowboard certainly saved my ass from taking a beating on the mountain,” I couldn’t help but add, remembering how he’d helped me tackle a black diamond with only a few weeks instruction.

  He let out a bark of laughter. Odd. A ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. “Of course, I wanted to help you… I needed to make sure that the only thing your ass took a beating from was me.”

  My cheeks lit up like a firecracker. “I thought we had a deal.”

  “You should know better than to think that I always do what I’m told.” Rolling my eyes, I turned my gaze out the window as we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex.

  It was still snowing, but thankfully, I didn’t have as much left here as I thought. The apartment that I’d rented had come already furnished and the few things that I had purchased were from college and not worth keeping.

  My surprise for the morning wasn’t over. I didn’t know what to expect, but I’d planned on Chance just waiting in the truck for me, especially when I told him that there wasn’t much for me to get. Instead, he shut off the car and followed me inside.

  “I really can get it all,” I mumbled.

  “Have you forgotten the argument that we had less than two hours ago?” he retorted. “I’m not letting you drive here alone and I’m certainly not going to sit in the car and watch you cart all your shit down these steps.”

  “Ok…” I sighed, shoving my key into the lock. “Just assumed you wouldn’t want me to think you were going soft on me.”

  I saw his hand grip my wrist before I could open the door. “Wha—“ Next thing I knew, my back was against the door, Chance pressed flush against me and his head next to my ear.

  “Trust me, J-bird,” he ground his hips—his erection—against my sex while I struggled to recover my breath, “you don’t ever have to worry about me going ‘soft’ on you.”

  “Noted.”
The word floated out on a rush of air as my hand found the doorknob again.

  I stumbled backward into the tiny apartment, Chance’s smirk the last thing I caught before I examined the task in front of us.

  I wasn’t joking when I said that there wasn’t that much. It took the two of us maybe another thirty minutes to pack up the rest of my stuff; the fact that every minute we were there, the sexual tension between us built to an increasingly uncomfortable level only made us work faster.

  Taping up the last box, I picked it up before he could yell at me to leave it for him and headed for the stairwell, his grumble echoing over my footsteps.

  It only took two trips before everything was loaded into my truck and we began the drive home. The snow was falling much heavier and much faster now with the largest snowflakes I’d ever seen; I was grateful that Chance was driving me. I could hardly even see where the road was anymore. At first distracted by the weather and then by my overactive brain, the journey home was spent in relative silence.

  I had questions—oh, did I have questions. But all of them were ones I was afraid of the answers to, so I kept my mouth shut.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket; it was Ally in my group text with her and Tam.

  ALLY

  J did you find out what happened with my brother and Frost?

  TAMMY

  I think I missed something.

  Shit. I hadn’t told either of them that Chance was my new roommate… that I’d ended up trading in Tammy—my affectionate friend—for an aggravating (albeit attractive) ex.

  “Everything ok?” That inquisitive and attractive ex asked. I looked up at him quickly before nodding.

  “Just my group text with your sister and Tammy.” My gaze returned to my phone as my fingers typed up the explanation

  ALLY

  Jessa…

  JESSA

  Sorry, Tam. Chance missed his appointment with me the other day. Emmett thinks it has something to do with Frost.

  Gnawing on my lip, I debated texting them and telling them about my new roommate situation. Strangely, I felt like I wanted to just keep this to myself for now. In spite of all the aggravation and how poor an idea this probably was, there was just something about this—here—between us.

  We began to slide just before we turned up the driveway and all thoughts of responding to my friends went out the window. Chance quickly got control of the truck—with one hand out in front of my chest no less—and we pulled back up to the house safe and sound.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  His response was to carry in four boxes at once, leaving me with the last one.

  “Where do you want these?”

  I tried to remember all of what was in the ones he was carrying. “By the steps should be fine. I think everything in them goes upstairs.” And then he proceeded to carry all four boxes all the way up to Ally’s room.

  “We should have stopped for food.” I looked up from the refrigerator, grabbing one of my La Croix bottles, as he came back down.

  “Where?” I laughed and nodded to the window. “I doubt anything is open. Pretty sure we were the only humans who decided to venture out in this storm.”

  “Pussies.”

  Rolling my eyes at his half-serious tone, I offered, “I can make us something. It’s the least I can do for your help.”

  “I can suggest something else if you really want to pay me back.” He added, “Kidding!” when I glared at him. “You cook?”

  “Don’t make me take the offer back.”

  “Sorry,” he laughed, “I’m just used to both of my sisters—mostly Channing—not knowing two shits about what happens in a kitchen.”

  “I do cook and I did pick up a few things from the grocery store this week. Is there something you’d like to eat?”

  HER. I WANTED TO EAT her.

  It was the only thing that I’d been craving all day. But from the look on her face, I was going to have to start with some real food.

  “Anything. I’m fucking starving.” I opened up the fridge, looking for something to keep my eyes off of her. “Jeez, Jessa. Do you have enough La Croix in here?” I grabbed one and smiled provocatively at her.

  “Enough to share, apparently.” When she rolled her eyes, I wanted to fuck her so hard until they rolled right back in her head. “I can make us taco dip; it’s my specialty.”

  “You make it?”

  “Yes. And it’s the best fucking taco dip you will ever taste.” Her sass shone almost as brightly as the pink in her hair.

  “I bet it is…” I commented wryly. The pink in her cheeks deepened as her gaze immediately broke from mine. And then I smirked. “What are you waiting for, Jessa?” She shook her head, refusing to look at me.

  I knew exactly what she was waiting for—me to make a comment about how delicious her taco… dip… was. The way she tried to hide her arousal amused me. The way my dick swelled painfully at the thought was not as amusing. It made even my sweats marginally uncomfortable.

  She didn’t respond, aside from beginning to move around the kitchen, pulling out the baking dish and various ingredients that she needed.

  “So, since when do you cook?” I couldn’t remember her cooking when we were in high school. Then again, we were in high school.

  “I actually enjoy cooking—not that I’m super skilled at it.” She pulled out the cheese grater and began to shred some of what I guessed was cheddar. “I cooked a lot in college. Helped me… de-stress… escape from certain things.”

  She started, catching herself in what she was about to say.

  “What things?”

  She stopped and reached for her can of water, those full lips closing over the opening in the can made my dick jerk like it had a seizure disorder. It had been hard the second I’d walked into the house and saw her standing in the kitchen. Stupid fucking brain imagining that it would be an every-day sight: her, waiting for me, cooking, hopefully naked.

  “So, are you going to talk to Wyatt?” Not a fan of the redirect.

  My jaw clenched. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.” The oven dinged behind her that it was heated.

  “Why not? Do you have any other options to consider?”

  “Leave it, Jessa,” I growled and walked into the living room, reaching for the TV remote and the lighter I had stashed in the end table drawer; I needed something to dull the edge of my frustration so that I didn’t say something that I would regret. Turning on the TV, I flipped around, finally settling on Law & Order.

  The truth was that I was afraid—afraid to put time into something that I might not be good at because the time that I’d put into things that I was good at and that I loved (namely, her and snowboarding) had been ripped right out from under me with no warning. I didn’t want to take another fall like that.

  I wasn’t going to talk to Wyatt because I didn’t know if I could fucking board anymore. It had been a mistake to think about the school the way that I had this morning, but for some reason, around Jessa all I wanted to do was fucking dream about the future and the possibilities… and her.

  Over the iconic dun-dun of Law and Order on the TV, the door to the oven opened and I heard as Jessa slid the baking dish inside.

  Exhaling, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the joint that Frost had sent home with me, feeling guilty for kicking me out of his house—and too sentimental to flush the shit that he needed to get rid of.

  It was hot in here. I was hot. It was her fault. I tugged my t-shirt up over my head. Clicking the lighter, I lit the joint and took a deep breath, waiting for the relaxation to hit me.

  Honestly, I didn’t know what was stressing me more—the questions about my future or the fact that I was harder than the fucking granite countertop having to watch her parade around in those yoga pants all morning.

  That, and the fact that I was now living with her. Hell, I was fucking playing house with her for Christ’s sake
—helping her move her shit like a knight in shining armor, having her cook food for the two of us. It was comical; Frost would be having a field-day.

  I took another long drag, hating myself because I was so fucking horny and all I wanted was the woman who had broken me. At this point, I had to admit that when I was around her, all I could think about was pleasuring her and protecting her—instead of punishing her like I’d sworn I would.

  I was a fucking mess the way that I wanted her.

  At least I knew that she wanted me, too. Hell, I could fucking smell it the whole drive home. If it hadn’t been a blizzard, I would have pulled over and pulled her onto my lap, but then we would have been stranded for fuck knows how long.

  I wondered if I should tell her to update my medical history with ‘erection lasting longer than four hours,’ as a pre-existing condition to being around her. Four-hour erection. I laughed. More like for-fucking-ever erection.

  I took another puff, staring blankly at the episode that I knew I’d seen before. My hand resting lazily over my dick. Once I finished this, I would need to do something about it otherwise I was going to be for a very uncomfortable rest of the day.

  “Chance!” I hadn’t even seen—or heard—her walk over, too lost in my own thoughts. I looked up at those hazel eyes that were glaring at me—shifting between my gaze and the joint in my hand.

  Christ. Not this, too.

  “What are you doing?” My frustration was seeping out through the cracks. Maybe I should push, but I hated seeing him sell himself short, especially after everything that he told me. He needed to talk to Wyatt. I saw the way he spoke about California. I knew he’d be such an asset to the new school if he’d just give himself the chance. “I want to know why you won’t talk to Wyatt. Take that shit out of your mouth for one second and stop running from me.”