Chalet Girls

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Chalet Girls Page 5

by Lorraine Wilson


  Sebastien rests his hand on my thigh and leans in. I think he‘s going to kiss me but his lips don‘t make contact with my skin. I realise, with a jolt, that I really want them to. Boy, do I want them to. I am so confused. God help me.

  ‘Have you been thinking about me?’ He whispers. ‘Because I‘ve been thinking about you. Do you know what I‘ve been thinking?’

  He trails his hand up and down my thigh, rhythmically stroking my leg. It‘s surprisingly arousing.

  ‘Uh, no.’ My breath catches in my chest as desire floods me, an overwhelming breach of my defences. I‘m unfurling, coming undone beneath his fingers. Every reason I ever had for waiting is disintegrating and being washed away along with my resolve.

  ‘I‘ve been thinking about all the things I‘d like to do to you.’ His lips brush my ear and hot breath tickles my skin as he whispers. ‘Very wicked things that will bring us both a great deal of pleasure.’

  I inhale sharply, startled by the jolt of sexual electricity coursing through me. I never knew … I didn‘t think … Oh my …

  His hand trails higher up my thigh and then gently squeezes my hip bone. A gentle moan escapes my lips and heat sears my cheeks. At the back of my mind I wonder if anyone is watching us but I‘m too far gone to check.

  Seb‘s breath catches and the amused desire twinkling in his dark eyes morphs into something deeper, more intense, as though he too is losing control.

  Finally his lips brush my neck, my collarbone and the skin exposed at the neckline of my top. My nipples harden, sensitive against my cotton bra. This is fast, far too fast. Yet my body is crying out that this isn‘t fast enough. I want him! Oh, God do I want him.

  His lips are now on mine and I forget everything as his tongue explores my mouth, tasting and teasing, thrusting against my tongue in a promise of what else he could do to me. There‘s a buzz between my legs, sharp, intense need flaring into life, spreading through my body like wild fire.

  My body‘s capitulation is so quick it scares me. It‘s too fast. I need to find the brake or pull the emergency cord to stop this. I pull back reluctantly.

  ‘What‘s wrong?’ Sebastien eyes me quizzically, continuing to languidly stroke my hip and making all the little hairs on my arms stand erect.

  ‘Erm, well, we don‘t know each other. This isn‘t what I do. It‘s …’ I run out of words. I don‘t know what it is. The throbbing need inside me makes it impossible to concentrate on what I’m saying.

  ‘You don‘t like it? Shall I stop?’ he asks immediately.

  ‘No, I mean yes. I mean I like it. I don‘t want you to stop exactly, just …’ I break off, flustered and afraid I‘ll push him away.

  ‘Sorry if I‘m going too fast. You‘re utterly irresistible. My fault.’ He pulls a funny face. ‘Shall we do things the English way? We can be stiff and awkward and pretend to ignore our attraction for each other.’

  I narrow my eyes. ‘I’m actually Scottish, not English.’

  ‘Ah I see. There’s a difference?’

  I almost launch into the kind of well-practised diatribe I have to use on idiots, but see Seb’s lips twitching.

  ‘You’re mocking me.’

  ‘Not at all.’ He grins, a hint of laughter lines around his eyes. It’s a face used to smiles and laughter. ‘I just want to make you comfortable.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re right. It’s all a bit fast for me.’ I tense, hoping he’ll understand and not lose interest.

  Seb takes my hand and cups it in his. ‘No worries. I’m far too used to getting my own way. It will be good for me to wait. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. Attraction is an amazing thing, it would be wrong to fight it.’

  ‘Would it?’ I can’t help but smile. He looks so sincere at the utter wrongness of ignoring sexual attraction, but I sense an undercurrent of mockery, not of me but of himself.

  A man who can laugh at himself. Hmm, I’m totally done for.

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to leave?’ Seb examines me closely.

  ‘I definitely don’t want you to leave. I just need to go, you know, slower.’ I will him to understand.

  Seb shrugs. ‘Really, it’s not a problem. We go slow. Slow can be good too. Can I kiss you?’

  I nod and part my lips as his mouth meets mine. I could do this all night. My lips are tingling where they meet his. I once read that the skin on our lips is the most sensitive of anywhere on our body. Now I can quite believe it.

  I’m falling deeper and deeper, taken up by desire and Seb’s muscular body pressed hard against mine. His scent intoxicates me, so clean and manly, so enticing I want to press myself even harder into him. I’ve moved little by little and so has he. We’re as close as we can be without me actually climbing onto his lap.

  A very enticing proposition. Doubt presses in at the corner of my mind. Why on earth did I say I wanted to go slow? Right now my body would be happy to move at the speed of light, all my senses tingling. Feeling vibrantly alive.

  My mind is flooded with images of what Seb could do to me, if I let him. Am I nuts to be holding back? I doubt many women say ‘no’ to him. I have a lifetime of experience of not crossing the line, but this is by far the hardest test I’ve ever faced.

  When Seb stops kissing me and pulls away it’s hard to ignore the unfulfilled ache between my legs.

  ‘Shall we go for a walk?’ Seb’s eyes are dark and his breathing hard.

  Maybe pulling back is hard for him too. That’s flattering. As we stand up I remind myself of all the reasons why I have to control myself. I can’t lose my virginity to a one-night stand, however enticing the proposition. And it is enticing. I might not have held out so long if Seb had been around when I was younger. I assumed I didn’t have much of a libido, but it turns out it was merely slumbering, waiting to be roused and coaxed into life by the right man.

  ‘Maybe we can go and look round the chalet?’ I suggest. ‘You know, I’d love to know more about the film-skiing you do and your trip to the Antarctic. It sounds amazing.’

  I watch Seb closely for any signs of irritation or impatience. Normally this is the point in proceedings when I cease to be interesting and men suddenly remember they were supposed to be somewhere else. What’s the point of wasting time on a girl who’s not going to put out?

  ‘Sure.’ If Seb is disappointed he hides it admirably and puts as much enthusiasm into his tales of snowboarding as he did into kissing, a grin splitting his charismatic face.

  We stay close as we make our way around the chalet and I listen to his stories. I‘m happy to take his arm and snuggle into his side. I can‘t give up the physical contact. It‘s as if he‘s magnetised me, somehow, and I couldn‘t pull away even if I wanted to.

  Which I don‘t.

  ‘Have you seen the view from the terrace? It‘s too crowded in here. Would you like to get some air, perhaps?’ Seb asks, once we‘ve seen round the chalet.

  ‘Yes, that would be nice.’ I smile, my face practically splitting in two at the idea of being alone with him. Maybe the champagne cocktails have gone to my head a little. Perhaps they are wicked after all.

  Seb‘s grin widens too and he takes my hand, leading me to the way out as he tells me how amazing it feels to be on top of the world and at one with the mountains. We both fall quiet outside on the decked terrace and stand looking down over the twinkling lights of houses in the dark valley far below. As my eyes adjust, I realise that it‘s not totally dark out here. The snowy mountains reflect the pale, white moonlight. The sky is clear and the stars glitter like diamonds. It‘s magical. I could never get bored of this. Never. I‘m falling in love with Switzerland and maybe a certain mountain boardercross champion too.

  ‘I could never leave the mountains. I hate the city.’ Seb leans over the rail. ‘I have to be able to see the horizon. In the cities there‘s so much concrete everywhere, it‘s stifling the earth. The earth can‘t breathe in the city and neither can I.’

  ‘That‘s very poetic. I feel like that
too. I come from the Scottish Highlands.’

  ‘Ah, the Highlands. I have been to Inverness and Loch Ness, where you have your famous monster. Have you ever seen it?’

  I snort. ‘No, there‘s no monster. Just miles and miles of space to breathe.’

  Seb‘s hand rests over mine on the rail. I wish I could believe that this is the start of something, but I know sex isn‘t a big deal for Seb. When I finally have sex it has to be with someone who cares about me, someone I‘m in a relationship with. Sex itself is a leap for me. Casual sex is a leap too far.

  ‘So why did you leave Scotland?’ Seb turns and fixes me with an intense gaze that pierces through my defences.

  It‘s as if he can see me, really see me. All the extraneous things of life – small talk, social niceties, external filters – have been stripped away. He‘s taken the time to look at me properly. Is this what love feels like? I don‘t want to lie to him. I feel I owe him the truth for not running as far away from me as possible. For being different from the other men who‘ve tried their luck with me since I moved to Verbier.

  ‘I tell everyone I came to Switzerland for the skiing, the snow is unreliable in the Highlands, after all,’ I pause. ‘And that is partly true.’

  ‘And what is the other reason, Lucy Lu?’ Seb strokes the side of my face.

  He’s given me a nickname. Warmth spreads through my chest and my lips curve into a smile.

  ‘I had to get far away from home. Nothing really bad. My family are good people, but I needed space from them, to escape the life they expected me to live. I know I said there’s miles of space to breathe in the Highlands, but at home I felt suffocated.’

  ‘So you spread your wings. I get it. Families … pffft.’ Seb shrugs. ‘They are difficult. My family are in France and I live in Switzerland and visit once a month or so. It’s a perfect arrangement.’

  I love how animated his face gets. Every craggy feature lit up with joy, amusement or desire, ever changing with his mood. Full of life. I feel a little more alive just for standing next to him, conjured into being more, feeling more by the touch of his hand on my skin.

  ‘Do you come from a big family?’

  ‘Yes, I have three brothers. We are very competitive.’ Seb raises his eyes to the stars. ‘My brother Michel got a bronze medal in the last Winter Games and I was placed fourth. I have never heard the end of it. He’s never beaten me in the Verbier Extreme, though. Do you have brothers?’

  Seb’s eyes shine with humour, as bright as the starry canopy above us.

  ‘Yes, funnily enough I’ve got three brothers too. I guess it’s a little different being a sister. My parents are pretty old fashioned, only the males of the family matter.’ I grip the rail tightly. ‘Their only ambition for me is that I marry a local farmer.’

  ‘They don’t approve of you coming to Verbier?’ Seb moves closer. I can feel the warmth of his body, the enticing pull of his chemistry.

  ‘You could say that.’ I bite my lip and edge closer to him.

  ‘Well I’m very glad you did.’ Seb cups my face with his hands, eyes sparkling and my heart skips a beat.

  Before I know it I’m standing on tiptoe and we’re kissing again. My arms are around him, pulling him closer and his hands slide down my back, cupping my bottom and squeezing.

  Soon I’m being swept away again, by an unstoppable tide of wanting and needing … I’ve definitely been magnetised and I just can’t resist Seb’s pull. I don’t know if I’m in love or in heat.

  But still there’s the persistent murmur in my head, obstinately refusing to give in and telling me to stop. I might be ready to make the leap for someone like Seb but I still can’t do casual sex. Not even for someone as divine as him. I haven’t waited this long to give it up for nothing.

  I pull back. It’s possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  Ever.

  I take a deep breath. ‘I think we have to stop, Seb.’

  ‘Okay.’ Seb exhales loudly as he lets me go. As though it’s hurting him physically to let me go. I know how he feels, my own body is thrumming with protest and unfulfilled need. This is all so … complicated.

  ‘I do … want you,’ I whisper, gripped by fear that I’ll never see him again. That he’ll think I’m rejecting him.

  ‘So what’s the problem?’ His fingers continue to caress mine where I’m gripping the rail, making it hard to keep my resolve.

  ‘I don’t do casual sex. I’m not into one-night stands.’ I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, trying not to think about his seductive fingers and where else they might touch me. Maybe I’m also afraid to see his reaction.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be casual and we don’t have to stand,’ he murmurs gently, his words sending shivers down my spine.

  This is bloody difficult. Seb is so very attractive. He‘s my sporting hero, everything I admire and yet … that still doesn‘t make him boyfriend material. He‘s impulse- driven. It‘s what makes him brilliant on the mountains, but I don‘t want to be tonight‘s impulse. Tonight‘s impulse is tomorrow‘s ‚that Scottish girl I shagged‘.

  I‘m smarter than that.

  ‘But, being serious, I can‘t …’ I break off. It actually pains me to say it, especially as unsatiated desire has me reeling.

  ‘Can‘t do this ever or can‘t do this tonight?’ Seb quirks a dark eyebrow.

  ‘Can‘t do this tonight.’ I bite my lip as I step out of reach. My body screams that I‘m crazy. Who cares if he wants to use me and forget me the next morning? Seb would be mine for one glorious night.

  But I do care and I can‘t do this. I‘d despise myself afterwards for selling out for a few hours of pleasure.

  ‘You are a very unusual girl, Lucy Lu.’ Seb looks regretful but not annoyed, thank God. Any sense of irritation and I would‘ve walked away. Permanently. ‘Anyone else and I‘d think you were playing hard to get but you‘re serious, aren‘t you?’

  ‘I don‘t play games.’ I make my way to the terrace steps, but each step away from Seb is a wrench.

  ‘So, when can we make love, Lucy Lu?’ Seb asks, a lot louder than I‘m comfortable with.

  I turn around to check the terrace is still clear and no one I know is listening. Then I turn back to face him.

  ‘When I believe this is for real,’ I smile regretfully, and make my way down the steps. When I look back, Seb salutes me and blows me a kiss.

  ‘See you soon, Lucy Lu,’ he grins. ‘I feel it‘s only fair to warn you I plan to have a truly filthy dream about you tonight.’

  I laugh as I walk away. I should go and find Tash or the others. It‘s rude to head off without saying goodbye to Sophie, but if I stay at the party any longer I‘m scared I‘ll cave in and end up going home with Seb.

  I barely notice the cold night air as I walk back to Chalet Repos. My skin is still flushed and warm, a heat that intensifies when I remember Seb‘s hands caressing me and how good it felt to kiss him.

  He won‘t be the only one having a filthy dream tonight.

  Oh crap, I‘m in serious trouble.

  Chapter 5

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Re: MIA

  Hello daughter. Could you drop your mother a quick line?

  The thing is, if you don‘t reply soon, I won‘t be able to stop her reporting you missing again. We all know how embarrassing that was the last time!

  So please email, unless you fancy a visit from Interpol.

  Bye for now,

  Dad

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Re: Wedding Plans (1 attachment)

  Sophie darling, it was lovely to hear from you finally. It‘s good to know we don‘t have to send a search-and-rescue team out to Switzerland to find you after all. Ha ha.

  However, I really can‘t agree there‘s ‚no rush to decide things‘. If we don‘t take the May slot at The Lodge I honestly don‘t think we‘ll be able to get in
anywhere half decent.

  Also, and you won‘t like me saying it, but you‘re not getting any younger. The trend may well be for women to have their babies later these days but the risks are so much greater the longer you leave it.

  It might be old-fashioned of me, but I think it would be best if you marry before you get pregnant. You agree, don‘t you, darling? I know how much you want to be a mother. You always did love babies, even when you were a little girl. Do you remember when you were asked what you wanted to be when you grew up you said you wanted to be a mum?

  I‘ve attached an article from the Daily Mail with all the statistics about the risks for older mothers. I hope that will persuade you of the wisdom of getting on with things quickly.

  Let us know if you want to reserve the May slot at The Lodge after all. It might not be too late to change your mind and it does have such lovely lakeshore gardens. Wouldn’t they make a fantastic backdrop for the wedding photos?

  Love,

  Mum

  SOPHIE

  The Lodge Hotel, the Lake District and Mum all seem a million miles away as Luc negotiates the hairpin bends leading to his parents‘ mountain village. I wish I could pack up all my problems and ship them back to England.

  Luc is gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are as white as the virgin snow blanketing the jagged peaks of the Alps. Other than that, and a tension around his jawline, there‘s no outward sign he‘s affected by the dreadful news we received this week.

  The news I‘m still reeling from.

  I hug myself and stare fixedly at the view. Normally the combination of the picturesque scenery of the country I‘ve adopted and being with Luc would lift my spirits but a black cloud has been trailing us since we left Verbier.

  I don‘t know how to fix this. Or even if it can be fixed. By the time we reach Vex and Luc parks the car I‘m grinding my teeth. I do my best to unclench my jaw and breathe.

  We‘ve agreed not to tell his parents, there‘s no point until we know for sure there‘s nothing that can be done. I want to go along with it, to help protect his parents from unnecessary worry. Especially given they‘ve got their own stress to deal with. The problem is, I can‘t remember how to be normal. I‘m rigid, wired for fight or flight. But there‘s no one to punch and no matter how far we run our problems would just come with us.

 

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