The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  “What should I start with?” Nick asked.

  “You want to warm up one and then we’ll go from there?” Wyatt suggested.

  “Dropping!” And then Nick was gone, leaving Wyatt and me alone at the top of the slope—still too early for any other riders to be out.

  As soon as Nick disappeared over the first kicker, Wyatt unstrapped from his board and hauled me into his arms. I hadn’t fastened my helmet yet which made it all the easier for him to pull it from my head as his lips crushed mine.

  Three days. It had been three days since our conversation in the parking lot and I’d tried to tell myself, tried to pretend like those three days had passed as normally as any other day during the B.W. (Before Wyatt) period. But they hadn’t.

  Like candy, I dissolved underneath his tongue. His kiss quickly broke me down, wearing through the hard, frustrated exterior that I’d tried to keep up.

  “So damn sweet, Channing,” he whispered against me. “Fuck, I missed you, gorgeous.” And then his mouth tore into mine again before I could respond. Even though I was tethered to my board, my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling me as close to him as possible.

  His hands slid from my waist around to grab my ass, rocking my hips against his thick ridge. Desire grew between my legs where I’d been aching for him for days. I groaned into his mouth, debating whether it was too sappily wanton to ask him if we could just practice this all morning.

  “Sorry,” he breathed heavily into the space between us, our ragged breaths made obvious in the brutally cold air around us. “There were so many things I wanted to say, but I need that… I needed you first.”

  I’d always been enthralled by those plasma globes in the mall; the ones with the electrical rays that looked like mini lightning bolts shooting out from the center to the outside of the globe, convening underneath your fingertip if you touched it. That’s what I felt like with Wyatt—a damn plasma globe—an electrical storm brewing in my core and shooting out to every cell in my body, my desire converging on his fingers—his touch—on my skin.

  “It’s ok,” I mumbled.

  “I know you’re mad that I couldn’t be here yesterday,” he asserted. I was, but I wasn’t ready to admit it, so I just shrugged without really giving an answer. His fingers tipped my chin up to look at him, the truth easily distinguishable in my eyes. “I’m sorry I had to cancel, gorgeous.” His lips gently touched mine. “I’m sorry and I’m going to make it up to you tomorrow.”

  Ironically, I was less interested in how he was going to make it up to me and more interested in what had caused him to have to make it up in the first place.

  “Who were you meeting with?” I watched his expression shudder.

  “I had a call with some investors back in Montreal,” he explained, but I needed more.

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “I can’t tell you yet; it’s a surprise” My frown deepened and I turned my face from his. I didn’t like surprises; surprises were just secrets in disguise. I didn’t like being kept in the dark where my fears could take hold of me; fears that told me that one day I was going to wake up and Wyatt was going to be gone with no note, no explanation, and no way for me to recover. Just like Chance had. “Hey, hey, hey.” His hand on the side of my face turned me back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I grumbled. “I just don’t like not knowing.”

  He sighed. “I don’t think that’s it, but I can’t force you to tell me the truth.” Just like I couldn’t force him to tell me his secret. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’m going to do after the Games,” he continued, “and I thought of an idea—inspired by you—but I don’t know if it’s going to work out yet. All indications are yes, but I need another week or so to know for sure if I can get the funding.”

  Now I was listening intently. “For what? What are you doing to do?”

  He smiled. “That’s the part I want to surprise you with.” My spirits sagged again. “If you’ll let me.” My eyes shot to his, hearing his words.

  Wyatt was giving me the choice. He saw that it was bothering me and instead of trying to convince me or insisting on his way, he was giving me the choice whether he told me or not. Why did he have to be such a gentleman? Why did he have to be so perfect?

  In that moment, I could have said no. I could have put an end to my misery and found out whether he was planning on leaving one way or another. I could have picked me and my fears—instead I chose him. I saw his excitement, but more importantly, I saw in his gaze the unwavering belief that whatever he had up his sleeve, he truly believed would make me happy. And I wasn’t going to be the asshole to spoil it.

  So, I decided to trust him. “Yes,” I sighed. “But I won’t promise that I’m going to be entirely happy about it until you finally tell me.” Even my subsequent pout came out playful instead of serious.

  “I would expect nothing less.” He kissed me again. “But it will be worth the wait.”

  I grumbled an incoherent response, taking my helmet and putting it back on.

  “Alright, how about you show me what you’ve been working on the past few days without me.” He winked at me and smacked my ass before walking back over to his board.

  God, I prayed trusting him wasn’t a mistake because seeing him this morning had driven home the realization that the past three days had been miserable without him.

  The first run went smoothly as a warm up for both Nick and me. Out of the four of us—Nick, Emmett, Chance, and me—Nick was the least interested in pursuing a professional career out of the sport. He rode for fun—or maybe because he liked cheating death. He rode to get away from his family and whatever shit happened when he wasn’t throwing drugged and drunken parties at their house. There was a reason they called him Frost—because what was on the surface was only a remnant of the coldness that existed in the dark.

  Then came King—or Emmett—who competed but was always more interested in designing and modifying the boards to give other riders an advantage. And finally Chance and I who competed to win—to make a name for ourselves in the world of winter sports. The difference between all of us made our friendship easier since we weren’t each intent on having the competitive advantage. That was why I was surprised when Nick wanted to learn more from Wyatt—I doubted that he would have even asked Chance to teach him some of these things.

  Then again, everyone seemed to be acting differently around Wyatt—Nick’s concerning interest, and Emmett’s growing distance, frustration, and protective stance had become distant, frustrated, and protective; and then there was Wyatt’s effect on me.

  Is it possible to know that you are acting differently and yet, at the same time, more like yourself?

  “Lil,” Nick’s voice gained my attention as we sat on the lift, “are you working tomorrow night? My classes Monday morning were already cancelled.”

  The big snowstorm was officially slated to hit late tomorrow night and into Monday morning.

  “Nope,” I replied. “Jim told us yesterday that Breakers was going to be closed tomorrow and Monday; they say we’re going to get pretty heavy powder.” Jim was the manager of Breakers and he’d begrudgingly informed us that the resort was closing the bar in preparation for the storm; if it were up to Jim, he would have had us sleeping on bar tables so that we could stay open.

  “Should make conditions great for the Games…” Nick surmised, looking to me and Wyatt for a response. There was no way he could know… was there?

  “Definitely.” The bar on the lift went up, ending the conversation.

  The next few hours flew by. Without Wyatt’s full attention, I stuck to jumps and maneuvers that I hadn’t done recently, knowing that the triple cork wasn’t the only thing I could do in my Slopestyle run—there had to be other elements included. Wyatt asked if I wanted to attempt the triple again, but I shook my head. Not today. I wanted him all to myself and I wasn’t keen on spending the rest of the morning falling in front of one of my best friends.

&nb
sp; Even just in one morning, I could see how much Nick had progressed with Wyatt’s help; I hoped that it was further proof to him of how good an instructor that he was—patient, kind, able to explain things in a variety of ways, and supportive.

  I, on the other hand, was only impatient with myself which led to frustration—as evidenced by my head injury. Chance had no patience for himself or for anyone—giving up quickly and easily. I put up with it because he was my brother and I didn’t let it get to me. Chance was good at a lot of things—teaching was not one of them.

  “Alright, that’s it for me this morning,” I said, unstrapping from my board. “I’m going to grab a coffee and head to my lessons.”

  Wyatt looked over his shoulder. “You good, Nick? Or you want to go again?”

  Nick raised his eyebrows, surprised that Wyatt would be willing to continue to work with him without me there.

  “I mean, if you have time for one more run and then I should probably go to class.” He grinned and I knew immediately that he’d missed at least one class to be on the mountain this morning; they’d probably tried to move up classes from Monday if the school was going to be closed.

  “Yeah, sure. I’m just going to walk Channing over to Cup of Joe; if you want to head back up, I’ll meet you there in a few.” Nick’s smile widened as he turned and made his way back to the chairlift.

  “You don’t have to walk with me,” I said quietly, taking my gloves off and unzipping my jacket.

  I felt his arms snake around my waist as he came up flush behind my back. “You know why that’s not true,” he whispered into my ear. My stomach quivered as I felt his hand on my bare skin.

  The next instant his hard warmth was gone, standing a step in front of me, holding out his hand. I gulped, realizing what he wanted. With a mind of its own, my hand raised to his, letting him intertwine our fingers together as we began to walk towards the coffeehouse.

  I bit down on my lip, watching the eyebrows raise of some of the boarders we passed as they recognized him, if not me. Every time I glanced down at our hands, my mouth tried to smile, my teeth keeping the expression firmly under control.

  This. The holding hands, the kissing, the riding, the watching movies while he rubbed my feet and I fell asleep, the teaching, the touching—everything. I wanted it all with him.

  He was there again after my shift at Breakers to walk me to my car, asking how the rest of my day had gone. I was a little nervous about him and Nick spending another run alone, hoping that Nick wouldn’t mention Chance; he must not have since Wyatt acted as usual.

  “You were great with Nick this morning,” I couldn’t stop myself from complimenting him. “I’ve helped him in the past, but I don’t think I’ve ever see so much improvement in one morning as when you work with him.” And when he’s not completely stoned.

  “Thanks, gorgeous.” He tugged on my hand that he’d insisted on holding again, pulling me against his side so that he could drop a kiss on my head. “It’s probably because I’m not as good-looking an instructor—harder to get distracted.”

  I burst out laughing. I highly doubted that was the case, but I loved him for saying it.

  No. Wait. What?

  I didn’t love Wyatt; I didn’t. I just… really, really liked him. That’s all.

  “I think you’re just trying to butter me up.” I eyed him slyly.

  “I might be.” He squeezed my hand and I felt my heart tighten in response.

  “And why would that be? I already said that you didn’t have to tell me your surprise.” My steps slowed, seeing my Jeep in the parking lot. I just wanted to stay a little longer with him.

  “Did I hear you say that you have off tomorrow night?”

  I looked up at him, but his gaze was off in the distance—it felt like purposely avoiding mine. “Yes… because of the snow that they are calling for. Why?”

  “Does that mean I might be able to request your company for the evening, instead of having to settle for the fifteen minutes between Breakers and your car?” Now, his eyes met mine, brimming with desire.

  A thrill of anticipation went through me. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I knew that this was going to be his way of making it up to me. The thought made me hot all over.

  “You might be able to,” I said coyly, eagerly awaiting his response.

  Instead, I was met with silence as we closed the distance to my car. His hand slipped from mine, hooking around my waist and turning me against his chest. I felt the breath rush out of me as my lips parted.

  “At the risk of being shut down on this question for the second time,” he rasped, staring into my eyes, “can I take you on a date tomorrow night, Miss Ryder?”

  I smiled. “I think you can, Mr. Olsen.”

  I melted into the kiss that followed. He may only get fifteen minutes for the walk, but he could have claimed the kiss for equally as long. By the time his lips broke from mine, I was panting, my arms around his neck holding me steady so I didn’t collapse at his feet.

  “Come home with me.” The words were out before I could stop them, let alone think about what I was saying.

  Wyatt looked just as surprised as I by the statement before need vanquished the emotion. Then I was flat up against the side of my car, his mouth clinging to my neck as he thrust his thigh up between my legs, pinning me to the vehicle. I moaned as it pressed against my sex, my hips involuntarily beginning to rub against the hard muscle of his leg, trying to ease my ache.

  “Not tonight, gorgeous,” he murmured against my neck.

  I whimpered, both from his refusal and from the need that was torturing me. I gasped as his hands slid from my waist to cup both of my breasts, his thumbs immediately finding my hard nipples.

  “What are you doing?” My question a breathless mess.

  “Saying good night,” he replied tightly as his fingers teased the aching peaks. My head fell back against the back window of the Jeep’s soft-top as my legs ground my core against his thigh.

  What was he doing to me?

  “S-someone could see.” I didn’t care.

  “No one is here, Channing.” He bit my earlobe and pulled it into his mouth. “Now, ride me.”

  This was so stupid, so blatant, so sexual… so hot.

  He sucked hard on my neck and I felt my sex clench with the beginnings of the orgasm that it had been craving for days. I pushed myself harder and faster against his leg, not caring if the whole damn mountain was standing in the parking lot watching me climax against it.

  “That’s it, gorgeous,” he growled as his hands switched to firmly kneading the small mounds of my breasts. I shoved them harder against his grasp as he spoke. I felt my folds slipping against my underwear that were completely soaked through, the friction of the lace against my clit driving me crazy. “Take it.”

  I exploded against him, my orgasm pulling from every cell in my body and shattering them into pieces. My hands death-gripped his shoulders as I rode the waves of pleasure against his body. When I finally returned—dazed—into reality, I heard his heavy breathing against the side of my neck.

  “So damn hot, gorgeous.” His head rose to gently kiss my parted lips. “I will never fucking tire of making you come.”

  I moaned softly as his hands returned to my hips to steady me as he lowered his leg and consequently my feet to the ground.

  I let my hands slide down from his neck, but he grabbed my wrists before they got lower than his chest. “I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow at six-thirty.” He kissed each palm before stepping back from me.

  “W-what about you?” I mumbled; there was no clarification required. I didn’t need to see the hard ridge outlined in his pants to know that he was just as aroused as I had been, but I did see it and it looked incredibly uncomfortable. I also saw a dark spot on his left pantleg where I’d rubbed against him; guess it wasn’t just my underwear that I’d soaked through. I jerked my gaze back up before he noticed, suddenly embarrassed by my desire.

 
; “I have to go take care of a few things here for tomorrow—for our date,” he replied cryptically with a mischievous wink. “Plus, you’re still hesitant to trust me—and hesitant to tell me why. So, I’m going to keep giving you everything you need until you realize that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  I grabbed the door handle as my knees gave way—and not as an effect of my earth-shattering release.

  “More sweet truths, Mr. Olsen?” I said huskily, bringing back our conversation from the other night.

  He smiled. “I can keep going if you want. Or maybe you’d like me to switch it up to dirty truths?” Both of my eyebrows raised. “I have plenty of those too. Like how the fact that you were so drenched just now that your sweetness soaked through my pants.” I watched as his fingers rubbed over the spot I’d noticed a minute ago. “Makes me crazy with the need to taste you, gorgeous.”

  I felt my face go beet red. “I… umm… I think you can stick to the sweet ones.” My eyes fell to the ground even though my heart raced at his arousing words.

  I heard him chuckle. “Goodnight, Channing.”

  “Goodnight, Wyatt.”

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?” IT was the third time I’d asked since opening the front door and letting him and Zack inside. Tonight, the roles were reversed; Zack and Ally were having a night in and Wyatt was taking me… somewhere. All I knew was that I was supposed to dress comfortably.

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Have I been there before?” I eagerly watched the familiar scenery pass as we pulled out of my driveway; the flurries had already begun to fall even though the heaviest part of the storm wouldn’t hit until tomorrow.

  He laughed. “Yes. Well… yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?” I exclaimed. “If you don’t want to tell me, you at least have to be explicit in your answers.” I huffed. “When was the last time I was there?”

  That one he didn’t answer.

  “Are you sure that I don’t need to be wearing something nicer?” I glanced down at my yoga pants and the fitted tee that I’d borrowed from Ally. “I could have asked Ally for something nicer.”