by Laura Kaye
She sucked in a breath, her eyes focusing somewhere over his shoulder. “You didn’t shovel my sidewalk the other day did you?”
“Er, no.” She was cute when she was exasperated—eyes flashing, cheeks flushing. “Didn’t want to freak you out.” Being able to admit and share this part of himself filled his chest with a warm satisfaction.
She twisted her lips. “How does it work?”
He grasped her hand, folded it in his. “I can manipulate the chemistry of snow and ice, call the clouds, guide the wind. I am part of the elements, and they are part of me.” Megan shivered within his grip. He smoothed circles over the back of her hand with his thumb.
“I…wow,” she said. “You’re amazing, Owen.” She shook her head.
Her praise jolted through him as much as consuming the snow had, built him up. His heart soared. He leaned across the console. With his hand, he pulled her face closer. Trailed kisses from her temple over the apple of her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Gods, he wanted her. Wanted her to want him. “Megan, Megan, Megan,” he sighed, loving the feeling of her lips curving up.
“You start kissing me and we’re not gonna end up using that nifty turnaround you just made.”
Laughter spilled from him, the sensation so enlivening. He fell back into his seat. “Right you are.”
Megan backed the Jeep into the turnaround. Their position put the igloo right in front of them, across the yard. Even though it was a little warmer, the cold continued to maintain it well. Megan glanced at Owen, then followed his gaze. “We need to have another picnic,” she said as she pulled out onto the driveway.
“Yeah.” He loved that she’d echoed his own thoughts.
The trip to Wisp didn’t take long, although partially cleared roads slowed their progress in a few places. Owen enjoyed Megan playing tour guide, pointing out landmarks that meant something to her and sharing stories. He also admired her competence driving on the snowy, icy roads. She never once panicked when the Jeep’s rear fishtailed, her instincts and reactions exactly what they should be. The way her little pink tongue flickered out over her bottom lip when she concentrated was nice, too.
The resort was busy, the new snow having lured winter sports enthusiasts out to take advantage of the fresh powder. Where they parked, they had a good view of a number of slopes and lifts. Megan had her own equipment, which Owen lifted out for her. Holding hands, they crossed the parking lot in the direction of the lodge. The atmosphere was festive—everyone wore bright-colored snow gear, kids declared in loud voices their impatience to get to the tubing runs and the unique mountain coaster, laughter rang out as people planned their days.
Excitement rushed through Owen. He couldn’t have been more pleased Megan agreed to share this with him.
Groups streamed toward the main building, making Owen realize he needed to do something before they got in line to purchase tickets. He tugged Megan over to a secluded spot along a fence, propped her skis against it, and knelt down. Glancing up at her, he debated for a moment, then beckoned her to join him with a sideways nod of his head.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You’ll see.” With a deep breath, Owen scooped a ball of snow into his palms and closed his eyes. He visualized the private chamber he maintained at Hyperborea. Saw the ornate chest sitting on a long table. Imagined disengaging the locks and removing what he needed. Transformed the ancient coin to make it useful here, now.
Megan gasped.
Owen’s eyelids flew open. The snow was gone. In its place lay a stack of hundred dollar bills. He smiled, pleased it had worked. It wasn’t often he found himself in need of human currency.
“Holy shit,” Megan rasped, eyes bugging at the bills in his hands. She looked all around behind them, over her shoulders, but no one paid them any mind. “You just made money out of snow. Holy shit!”
Owen grinned, folded the bills in half, and tucked them deep into a pocket. “Well, I could hardly ask you to pay when this was my idea. And I have resources I rarely have occasion to use.”
Megan’s eyes danced with excitement and amusement. “Wow.” She shook her head. “Well. All righty, then.”
Needing to kiss her, Owen leaned in and tasted the amazement straight from Megan’s lips. She fell into the kiss, into him, and he held her tight. He pulled them to their feet and collected the gear he’d dropped. “The snow awaits.”
Soon, he bought their tickets and rented his equipment. Together, they suited up. Standing at the bottom of the mountain, they had several slope and lift options in front of them. “What’s your pleasure, madam?”
Megan unfolded the resort map. “I can handle the intermediate slopes. This one’s particularly good,” she said, pointing at the map. “A couple really fun turns.”
Owen nodded. “You lead, I’ll follow.” Gods, how true that was.
Chair Lift 3 took them where they needed to the top of the mountain, and Owen loved how Megan snuggled into the side of his body, their thighs pressed tight together. He gazed down at her. “Beautiful up here,” he murmured as the unnoticed resort glided by beneath them.
“Yeah.” She turned away from his chest and took in the view, then glanced up to see him staring at her. A blush bloomed over her cheeks, discernible even under her ski goggles and beanie. She leaned back against him. He squeezed her in with his arm around her shoulders. At the end of the lift ride, they jumped off together and she guided them to the trail she wanted to try.
“Okay, promise me you won’t cheat.”
“Cheat? What do you mean?”
“None of that snow god voodoo,” she said.
Owen’s whole body shook with amusement.
“I mean it,” Megan said, humor coloring her voice.
He steadied himself using his poles. “No voodoo. Got it.”
“Good. Okay, then. Wait here a second, I want to show you something.”
He nodded. “All right.”
Megan slowly skied away from him. “Stay right there, now,” she called over her shoulder. Just as he started to frown at how far she’d gone, she threw him a mischievous look, dug her poles in, and shoved off. “Catch me if you can!”
Owen gaped. “That little…And she told me not to cheat.” He didn’t think on it long, though, because he was after her in a flash. He knew why she made him promise not to use his powers. She was good. Surefooted and centered. Handled the turns with ease and zigzagged on the straightaways to pick up speed. Gods, her competence on the snow had him hardening in his pants.
He whooped out a cheer of pure exhilaration. The cold air whipped at his hair—he wore neither hat nor goggles, not needing them. He filled his lungs with the wind, fed off it. Tightening his stance, he gained on her, but never caught up. Man, was he going to make her pay.
At the bottom, they twisted to a stop, their downhill skis carving into the snow and sending up sprays of powder. Owen glided toward her.
“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled out with a hand over her mouth.
Owen grabbed it and pulled it away, wrapped it around his back. “I told you, never hide your smiles from me.” He kissed her cold lips. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
She nodded. “Yep. Ready to go again?”
He smacked her bottom, though her insulated snow pants kept his bare hand from having the effect he really wanted. “You better believe it.”
The rest of the morning, they sampled the numerous intermediate slopes together, sometimes skiing alongside each other, sometimes racing. All the joy was because of her.
Having worked up an appetite, they found a quaint café in the mountaintop village and feasted on stacked sandwiches. Owen discovered the wonders of Nutty Buddy ice cream cones and went back for seconds. He almost got a third to keep Megan in such good cheer.
By the time they’d flown down the mo
untain on inner tubes and taken their third ride on the mountain coaster that was part Alpine Slide and part roller coaster, Owen knew, unequivocally.
He was totally in love with Megan Snow.
Everything about her drew him in. She was fun-loving and adventurous. Athletic and competitive. Breathtakingly beautiful, especially with the pink windburn on her face, her blonde curls tousled around her shoulders, his mark on her cheek. The way she touched him filled him with hope and need. The interest she demonstrated in his life, his most basic thoughts and opinions. She knew him as much as anyone ever had. More. When they were together, her attention and concern made him feel like the center of her universe. He might’ve been a god, but he’d never before felt so important.
Their tickets were good through nine p.m., so they continued playing long past sunset. The mountain took on a mystical quality in the dark—the trees turned black, the snow glowed under the profuse lights. He couldn’t resist pulling her into the shadows to taste her, feel her.
As they kissed and embraced, the urge to share all of himself nearly overwhelmed him. “Come with me,” he said, tugging her hand toward a darkened trail.
“I think that one’s closed, Owen.” She pointed to a sign.
“Yes, I know. Come on.” He led them just far enough down the slope to be hidden from view, then pulled her over to the tree line. Excitement shuddered through him, sent adrenaline pounding into his muscles.
She chuckled, the sound nervous and curious at the same time. “What are we doing?”
Using his poles, he pushed the levers behind his boots and freed himself from his skis. He helped her do the same.
“You won’t need these,” he said, carefully lifting the goggles off her head and removing her bulkiest outerwear. The less he had to deal with, the better. He laid all their shed gear into a hidden pile under a tree. Digging his hand into her hair, he kissed her lips, once, twice, forcing her head back so he could possess her completely.
Megan moaned and grasped onto his biceps.
With all that he was, he willed her to agree, then pulled back from the kiss and bored his gaze into hers. “Do you trust me, Megan?”
Chapter Nineteen
His flaring eyes stole Megan’s breath. Already, the air around them sizzled. Something was happening.
Did she trust him?
“Yes,” she heard herself say. Her answer was instinctual. She didn’t need to think about it to know.
His heated, brilliant smile eased the nervous energy rushing through her veins. This day with him at Wisp had been unequivocally the best she’d had in two years. She had loved every minute of it.
Her body felt awake and powerful. Her heart, full and warm. She was alive. He’d brought her back to life.
“I want to share myself with you, Megan. I want to share everything,” he whispered, his voice nearly that same reverent intonation as when he’d murmured those foreign words against her heart.
“Yes,” she said again.
“It’s going to feel odd to you, like a tingling weightlessness. But it won’t hurt and I’ll bring you back the very instant you desire. If you want to say something to me, just think it. And I promise I won’t let you go.” He bent down and scooped a handful of snow, packed it into a loose ball.
Owen’s words did little to staunch the anxious excitement bubbling up inside her. Every nerve and muscle on edge, she could barely stand still. But she yearned to know what he wanted to show her. Something told her she was about to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. “You lead, I’ll follow,” she said, echoing his earlier words.
The flare behind his eyes intensified. He dropped the snow into her bare palm. “Here, eat this, please.”
Megan brought the snow to her mouth with a shaking hand. The way he dragged his tongue back and forth against his bottom lip made what they were doing feel like foreplay. As soon as she’d closed her lips around the last bite, his mouth was on her, kissing, probing. Then, he pulled back, laced his hands around her neck and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Megan Snow, I love you.”
Megan gasped at his declaration. Her brain scrambled, tried to figure out how to respond.
Before she could, she ceased to be corporeal.
Owen! she screamed in her mind.
I’m here angel, and I’ve got you. Just feel. Take it all in.
I’m scared. Though she was no more than consciousness adrift, she would’ve sworn she felt his lips and hands caress her. The impossible sensation squelched the fear, left only a mystical thrill in its place.
I would never let anything happen to you, Megan. On my honor. On my life.
I believe you. What’s happening? The world glided under her, around her, like she was a bird soaring on the ebbs and flows of air currents.
We are the wind.
Her soul shuddered in freedom and ecstasy. They dipped and swirled and threaded with ease and grace through the trees, down the mountain, and up again. Up, up, until the darkness swallowed the forest in one black mass and left only the blazing white lines of the illuminated trails. Up, up they went, until the starlit night surrounded them, made her feel she could almost reach out with her mind and touch a star, take it inside her. She thought of the stars on her bedroom ceiling, and imagined herself part of that brilliant symphony of matter.
Is this real?
He managed to project a chuckle. As real as I am.
Are you real?
As real as you want me to be. Desire and intensity imbued the disembodied thoughts.
Her soul shuddered, consciousness rippled. The wind moaned, or maybe that was her.
Shhh, angel, Owen soothed, calmed.
Will I remember this, Owen? I never want to forget being with you this way.
Gods, Megan. Yes.
Time had no meaning as they soared on the wind, with the wind. Megan thought she had the smallest understanding of what he meant when he’d said the elements were part of him. Because she felt more connected to the world around her than she’d ever been in her whole life.
As frightened as the odd situation had made her at first, now she reveled in the weightless, airy, nearly electrical sensations. She drank in the beauty of the nighttime world, let it fill her soul, ease those damaged parts of her psyche that kept her awake at night, that pressed guilt and regret on her shoulders like an iron anvil.
You’re doing so well, Owen murmured from time to time. But otherwise they fell into a comfortable silence. They didn’t need words to establish a connection between them. Soaring with him on the wind was as intense and intimate as sex—and as ecstatic. Like this, they were one, joined, inseparable.
When the distant edge of the horizon brightened, Megan felt the light touch the depths of her soul. She’d never seen anything more beautiful, more spiritual. They soared through the sunrise, flowed through the pinks and peaches and lavenders the rising sun cast over the awakening world.
We must return now, Owen said softly.
Knowing the wondrous experience was nearly over, Megan soaked in every sensation, every sight as they returned to earth, to their bodies. Peace filled every corner of her consciousness with a sleepy, fulfilled satisfaction.
You’ll be disoriented for a while. I’ll take care of you.
I trust you.
The network of freshly groomed white trails came into view. It was hours before the resort would open. Tranquility blanketed the mountain. They descended, narrowing Megan’s sightlines from the whole resort, to a few trails, to the trail from which they’d ascended the night before.
And then she was flesh and blood again.
She sucked in a gasping, heaving breath, the air cold and raw in her throat. The world spun. Up was down and down was sideways. Orientation eluded her. Neither shape nor color had meaning. She clutch
ed onto the warmth in front of her in an effort to anchor herself to the world.
A soft, wet sensation played at her lips. Megan moaned. Sought it out. Owen. Her hands clutched tighter, yanked him onto her. His weight pressed her down, reconnected her to the physical plane. The cold of the snow beneath her radiated through her clothes to her skin.
They kissed and writhed in a frenzy. Desire overwhelmed her. “In me. Get in me.”
“Yes,” Owen rasped.
Grunting and desperate, they tore at one another’s clothes, the layers between them infuriating. Still disoriented, she was putty in Owen’s hands. He moved her how he wanted, offered words of explanation she couldn’t fully understand. All she knew was the wet ache between her thighs.
He turned her onto her stomach. She’d expected the snow, so the layers of puffy fabric under her body surprised her, took the edge off the surrounding cold.
“You’ll be warmer this way,” he ground out, then laid himself atop her back, totally covering her with his strong masculine frame. His thighs positioned outside of hers, his tip searched out her entrance.
Megan arched and thrust her rear up against him, opening herself to his welcome invasion. He filled her completely, and it was like air after being too long underwater, like drink after being lost in an endless desert.
§
Owen pushed into her and roared in ecstasy. Mother of Gods, she was tight this way. Perfect. Everything.
He couldn’t go slow, couldn’t hold back. Neither could she, apparently, because she arched up and met his body thrust for thrust. Above her shoulders, their hands intertwined. The sides of their faces pressed together. They swallowed one another’s rasping breaths.
His hips pistoned against her, driving them toward desperately needed releases. She was wet, so wet, and her walls clenched him in tight velvet. His heart threatened to explode with his body.
This woman. This woman who had shared the night wind with him in total trust, with godlike courage. She owned him. Completely and forever.
An ecstatic scream ripped from her throat. Her slick muscles squeezed and milked at his length inside her. Cupping her jaw, he devoured her cries with a consuming kiss. In turn, his body erupted, his release streaming into her again and again. He clutched onto her so tightly he feared bruising her, but he couldn’t get his muscles to relent.