Apres Ski

by Christie Butler

  “Oh!” Chelsea lost her breath.

  Pulling back out, Jud said, “Sorry. You okay, Chels?”

  She looked down, her vision a little hazy. “Mm-hm.”

  “I just couldn’t help myself. You were killing me.”

  A smile appeared on her lips as she rose up off him again. Urged on by his response, she found some courage and lifted her hands to her breasts—lifting them for him, squeezing them together, plucking at her nipples. His cock just inside her, his thumb strumming her clit, her own hands at her breasts—the sensation was overwhelming.

  The excitement that had been percolating now threatened to erupt. “Jud…please.”

  Apparently knowing what she needed, he thrust his hips up, not as hard but plenty hard enough. He thrust faster and faster until she was swept away. She dropped her hands to support herself as her body twisted and turned and she cried in her ecstasy.

  The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back and Jud was bending her knees back against her chest. He moved over her and inside her with deliberate motions, but the look in his eyes was untamed and his brow was beaded with sweat. He plunged into her again and again, unintelligible words spewing from his lips.

  Chelsea had barely recovered from her orgasm and he had her on the verge of another one. “Harder, Jud,” she said softly. Through the haze she could see him give a quick shake of his head. “God, Jud. Fuck me harder.”

  “Jesus, Chels.” He started thrusting harder and spit out some animalistic grunts. “You feel…so fucking good.”

  Through her climbing response, she grinned, thrilled by his passion.

  “God, Chels. I’m gonna come.” He moved even faster and harder for a brief moment, then shouted with his release.

  It was all Chelsea needed, and she tumbled over with him, nearly pushing him off with her legs. He was still slowly thrusting when she’d regained her breath, his sweat dripping onto her chest.

  Finally, Jud pulled out of her with a sigh, dropping to his back. “Incredible.”

  Chelsea could only grin in response. Maybe, just maybe, she’d driven him a little crazy.

  * * * * *

  Light from the late-afternoon sun streamed in through the picture window as Chelsea folded laundry. It had been cloudy all day with off and on snow flurries, but the sky was now a brilliant blue.

  She’d spent the night at Jud’s, but after he’d taken her out for Sunday brunch she’d begged off for the rest of the day. There were things she needed to take care of—laundry, bills and other boring everyday things that didn’t fit into this new fantasy life she had with Jud.

  Besides, after spending nearly forty-eight hours straight with him, she’d crazily thought that a little space might be good. To get out of the hormone-charged atmosphere and find a little normality.

  I’ve certainly achieved that. Chelsea sighed as she finished folding, then leaned back against the couch, curling her feet under her. It had been only a few hours and she missed him already. She was in deep trouble.

  What’s the saying? When the gods want to punish us, they answer our prayers. It had been so long that she’d wanted Jud. Now that they were “together”, she had to admit she was a bit overwhelmed. She’d fantasized about Judson Tate for nearly a year, but it always been just that—a fantasy.

  The reality was, well, the reality had surpassed her wildest imaginings. Jud had been sweet and sexy and kind. And he seemed to be genuinely interested in her. But Chelsea suspected there had been countless other women who’d thought he was genuinely interested in them as well, and they were now in his rear view. What made her think she could be any different?

  And therein lay the problem. Even if Chelsea could make Jud fall madly in love with her and never want to see another woman, he’d probably be leaving Colorado soon. They were doomed from the start.

  And yet she couldn’t help herself. Wanting to scream in frustration, she was stopped by the turn of a key in the front door lock. Megan burst through the door, only to pull up short when she saw Chelsea.

  “Hey, Chels. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Megan shrugged off her coat and tossed it over a chair.

  “I do live here, ya know.”

  Smiling, Megan sat next to her on the couch. “I just figured I’d lost you to Jud forever. That I was going to have to find a new roommate.”

  “Don’t work on replacing me just yet.” Her voice cracked at the end.

  Megan placed her hand on Chelsea’s arm. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

  It all came to a head, and the feelings of uncertainty that had been plaguing her since leaving Jud’s erupted into tears. Damn it. She swiped at the tears with her fingers and took a series of deep breaths. To her credit, Megan didn’t push. She merely waited for Chelsea to regain control of herself.

  “Sorry, Megs. I didn’t mean to wig out on you.”

  Megan waved her away. “What happened? I thought you and Jud were doing great.”

  “We were. We are. God, this is so stupid. Things are fine between us and I’m crying like a baby.”

  “If things are fine, why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know, I just…” She dabbed at her eyes with the backs of her fingers. “Jud and me being together has always been this crazy fantasy. Now it’s real, and all I can think about is what a player Jud is, all of his women—”

  “Hey, wait a minute. That’s the past—”

  “The extensive past.”

  “Well, maybe he’s ready to settle down. It has been known to happen. Even Warren Beatty eventually got married.”

  “Yeah, when he was like sixty years old.”

  Megan laughed. “C’mon, Chels. Have a little faith. Look at all the pieces of fluff he’s been involved with—Kayla for God’s sake? You’re a woman of…of…substance. The kind of woman a guy settles down with. Can you imagine a guy like Jud wanting to spend his life with a ditz like Kayla?”

  “I guess not.” Chelsea smiled despite herself. “But can a guy like Jud settle down with anyone?”

  “Of course, and if he’s going to settle down with anyone, it should be with you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Well, yeah. You have so many of the same interests—skiing, books, movies, art, hiking, biking, music, food, sex… Need I go on? I mean you’re perfect for each other. He has to see that.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” Chelsea thought Megan was right. All she could do was hope that Jud saw it the same way. “Now I just need to convince him to give up his dreams and stay in Colorado.”

  Megan smiled sympathetically and stood, holding out her hand. “C’mon, let’s whip up some dinner. I’m starved.”

  * * * * *

  The scent of oil paint and turpentine was starting to make her dizzy. After dinner, Chelsea had sequestered herself in a small spare room that Megan let her use as a studio. It was too cold to open a window, so she decided to hang it up for the night.

  Taking a last look at her work in progress, she smiled. It was a rendition of a photo she’d taken of Jud at the end of last season. Every year on the day the lifts closed, the ski patrol put on a show, displaying their talent on fiberglass sticks.

  Camera at the ready, Chelsea was lucky to get a shot of Jud catching some big air and back-scratching. It was an awesome shot, and it was turning into an awesome painting.

  Flicking off the lights and closing the door on the fumes, she made her way to the kitchen for a drink of water. She was tired, but it was a good tired. Making some headway with her painting—there was such a sense of accomplishment, a job well done.

  The clock glowing on the microwave told her she had some time to catch up with the latest thriller she’d been reading before she needed to get to sleep. She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, and then dove under the covers with her book. She read for a few minutes, then gave up, not being able to get into it.

  Staring at her cell on the bedside table, she sighed. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed it an
d speed-dialed Jud. It rang several times and she thought it was going to go to voicemail but he finally picked up.

  “Hey, Chels.” He sounded happy to hear from her. He also sounded like he was at a bar.

  “Hi. I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

  “No, not at all. What’s up?” The background noise seemed to be quieting. He was probably going outside.

  “I was getting ready for bed and it made me think of you,” she said.

  “Yeah?” He laughed. “I can be there in about five minutes.”

  “No, no. That’s fine. I need some actual sleep tonight. Besides, it sounds like you’re having a good time.”

  “I met Rog for some pizza and there’s basketball on the TV, but I’ll dump him in a second if you just say the word.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Did you not just hear me say that I needed some sleep?” She could hear him sigh dramatically.

  “Okay. So you just called me to torture me with images of you in bed?”

  “That wasn’t my intention, but that’s a nice payoff. I called because I wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Hmm. I’m happy you called, Chelsea.”

  Chills shot through her. “I’m gonna say good night. Go have a good time.”

  “All right. Meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Good night, Chels. Sweet dreams.”

  “Good night, Jud.” She ended the call and placed her phone on the bedside table before shutting off the light. She was glad she’d called, and she was mostly successful pushing from her mind images of Jud at a bar, surrounded by adoring women.

  Chapter Eight

  The mouthwatering aroma of burgers cooking on a grill filled the air. Chelsea dug her edges in deep and sent a spray of snow over the ski rack as she came around to a quick stop. For the rest of her life, she would associate that delicious scent with the snowy mountains and skiing down a run on a glorious sunny day.

  She popped her boots out of the bindings and stored her skis, hanging the poles over the tips. As she made her way to the restaurant, she removed her gloves and clipped them to her jacket.

  Jud had called her this morning and told her where to meet him for lunch, and she was actually feeling a bit nervous. This would be their first face-to-face encounter since the weekend sex-o-rama. Would it be awkward? Or worse, would Jud be over it? Would he take one look at her and wonder what the hell he was doing hanging out with a chick like her?

  She was about to find out. Pushing the door open, she left the bright sunshine and lifted her sunglasses to rest atop her head. Just after noon, the place was crowded—from ski bums to snow bunnies to Eurotrash to families with rambunctious children. She walked past the food line and out to the dining area, trying to look inconspicuous as she searched for a Greek god in a ski patrol outfit.

  Scanning the tables, she didn’t see him anywhere. She reached inside her jacket to retrieve her phone and froze when large hands settled on her shoulders. Even through her jacket, she felt the heat. Jud’s breath was warm against her ear.

  “Hungry?”

  You have no idea. Chelsea spun around to face him. She smiled and it was easy, unforced. The total opposite of awkward. His eyes sparkled at her as he leaned down for a quick peck on the lips.

  When he spoke, his voice was low. “I really want to pin you against the wall and kiss the hell out of you, but it wouldn’t be very professional.”

  Sparks of heat shot through her as she imagined him doing just that. Eyes wide, she said, “I understand. You gotta have some respect for the uniform.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were giving me some shit.”

  “Moi? Never.”

  “Uh-huh.” He smiled at her. “How’s your day?”

  “Okay. They stuck me down at the base again.”

  Jud winced. “With all the bunnies.”

  “And how. Damn, it’s crowded today. You have a busy morning?”

  “Not a single call. I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

  “Poor baby.” She jerked her head toward the food line. “C’mon, let’s go. I’m starving.”

  “Why don’t you go find a place to sit and I’ll get the food?”

  “Okay. Get me the bread bowl with whichever soup looks the best.” She turned to walk off and then stopped. “And something chocolate.”

  “You got it.”

  Chelsea watched him move away, admiring his form—which was damn fine, even in the puffy outerwear. She swiveled around and made her way to the dining room, her step lighter and more confident. All of her anxiety had been for naught.

  Spotting some people vacating a corner table, she made a beeline for it. She removed her jacket and draped it over a chair, turning around to find that someone had joined her.

  “Hi, Chelsea.”

  Damn. “Hey, Kayla. What’s up?”

  Kayla leaned across the table slightly, a mischievous smile on her face. “Did I just see you and Jud kissing? Last week you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

  “At the time, I wasn’t.” Averse to conflict, Chelsea’s mouth went dry.

  “Uh-huh. So you and Jud are together?”

  Not knowing the exact answer to that question, and certainly not caring to share it with Kayla, Chelsea merely smiled.

  “You’ve got your hands full with Jud. Isn’t he a little out of your league?”

  Chelsea wanted to wipe the skeptical smile from Kayla’s lips. “Don’t you have some work to do, Kayla?”

  “I’ve got a minute.”

  “Great,” Chelsea mumbled under her breath, avoiding Kayla’s look of appraisal.

  “You’re certainly not his usual type. Maybe Jud’s going through a ‘Plain Jane’ phase.”

  Chelsea hoped she’d hidden her flinch. As much as she was hurt by Kayla’s words, she was now getting angry. She tried to shrug carelessly. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s moving out of his ‘Inane Slut’ phase.”

  Kayla’s mouth dropped open and then she clamped it shut. Her voice got lower as she leaned in closer. “Don’t think you’re so special, Chelsea. Jud has some crazy sexual needs, and you’ll never be able to satisfy him. He wants a slut in the bedroom.”

  Feeling her face heat, Chelsea remained silent. She wanted to tell Kayla that she’d already satisfied Jud, that maybe he treated Kayla like a slut in the bedroom because that’s what she was.

  But she couldn’t say either of those things. She didn’t want to escalate their little chat into a screaming match and, amazingly, she was actually starting to feel sorry for Kayla. It was possible that Jud was ready to move on from women with little more to offer than big boobs and a willingness to spread their legs.

  Having said that, Chelsea knew she hadn’t wasted much time spreading her legs for him, but she’d had feelings for him for a long while. Maybe there was some truth in what Megan had told her—Chelsea had some substance to her. Maybe that’s exactly what Jud was looking for.

  “Go back to work, Kayla.” Chelsea smiled. “You’re ruining my appetite.”

  Kayla pushed her chair away from the table and stalked off in a huff, nearly running into Jud.

  Chelsea watched her stop to talk to him. Jud said a few words to her and then walked past her. Chelsea caught his gaze and he rolled his eyes.

  Reaching her, he set the tray of food down between them and sat to join her. “I got you the chicken and wild rice.”

  “Oh, yum.” Chelsea rubbed her palms together as Jud served her. She noticed that he’d gone with the grilled chicken sandwich. “No tortilla soup for you today?”

  He gave her a look. “I thought I’d better skip the black beans today. You are staying at my place tonight, aren’t you?”

  She grinned. “O-kay. Thanks for skipping the tortilla soup.”

  They ate a few bites in silence before Jud spoke again. “I saw you talking to the wicked witch. What did she want?”

  Chelsea shrugged. “Not much. She was ju
st giving me some tips.”

  Jud paused mid-bite. “Tips on what?” Despite the fact that he looked a little nervous, he still exuded raw magnetism. He would always have that effect on her.

  “Never mind. Eat your protein. You’ll need it later.” She delicately ran her tongue around her lips.

  He growled at her and she could feel it between her legs.

  Raw magnetism.

  * * * * *

  It was a typical Colorado mountain night—clear and cold, dry. Jud and Chelsea strolled through the village after a light dinner of sushi, doing some window shopping and trying to pretend that they were interested in something other than rushing back to Jud’s place, to his bed.

  Despite their bulky ski gloves, they tried holding hands, occasionally bumping into each other, pausing for a quick kiss.

  Right then, at that very moment in time, Chelsea was happy. Delirious. She made a conscious effort to push aside all of her insecurities—about Jud and his past, about Jud and his future far away from her. Right then, there was nothing more she wanted in life.

  They came up on the Bergen Gallery, an art store that had sold some of Chelsea’s works. She grabbed Jud’s arm. “Let’s go in.”

  “What?” Jud frowned at her. “This dump?”

  Chelsea punched him on the arm. “Very funny.” She moved past him and pulled the door open, the dinging of a bell announcing their entrance. The space was divided into two sections, the front room larger, walls crowded with works of art. The back room housed an office and the most expensive pieces.

  A stunning redhead strolled out from the back room. She wore jeans and a sweater, with knee-high fur boots and several silver necklaces. “Chelsea!”

  “Hi, Mara.” Chelsea rushed forward to greet her, allowing herself to be hugged. She really wasn’t much of a social hugger, but this woman supported Chelsea, happily selling her paintings. It was a small price to pay to get her work out there.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Mara grasped her hands. “I have some great news.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “A man came in today and bought that mountain sunrise painting of yours!”