The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  “I ran into the pizza girl.” He lifted the lid and pulled out a slice, looking to me as he continued, “She seemed a little uptight.”

  Asshole.

  “A girl? I don’t know that we’ve ever had a girl before. What was her name?” Channing asked, her eyes narrowing on Emmett.

  “Why the fuck would I ask her name?”

  That smirk of his was really starting to irritate me.

  “Oh, so you were you trying to sleep with her then?” My sister retorted, rolling her eyes and taking a huge, annoyed bite of her pizza.

  From the looks of it, my sister felt responsible for keeping these boys in line.

  Poor Channing.

  The bark of his laughter cut right through me, capturing my gaze before replying smugly, “Not my fucking type.”

  What did I care? It’s not like giant ginger assholes were my type either.

  “You’re impossible,” Channing huffed as he turned away from me and strolled casually back over to the guys. It was only then that I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  My sister quickly turned our conversation to what was going on in Aspen and in their lives right now, leaving the guys to find their own entertainment. For a second, I thought she was going to ask me about Florida, but the sunny state remained blessedly absent. Tammy and I ended up dominating the conversation; my sister, I noticed, only seemed to be very outspoken when she was in conversation with the guys. Now, she sat quietly engaged, listening intently to the two of us.

  Eventually, the dialogue turned back to me as the newcomer in the group. “So, what are you going to do out here, Ally?”

  “I-I’m not sure yet. I was taking some art classes at the community college back in Florida, but I don’t know what I want to do, so I figured I’d come out here and find my way… maybe apply to school next year…” I trailed off. “But I was thinking I’d go out tomorrow and see what jobs are available—assuming someone can take me.” I didn’t have a car here which meant I was at the mercy of my siblings to cart me around.

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Channing chimed in. “We’re actually looking for a new waitress over at Big Louie’s if you are interested. Not sure if that’s your thing.”

  I nodded. I didn’t mind waitressing. “Sure. I used to waitress sometimes at Aunt Judy’s place when they needed a spare hand.” That was before I’d started helping Dylan with his surf school, a fact I refused to mention.

  “Well, I can bring you with me when I go into work tomorrow night and you can scope out the place.”

  I smiled and nodded. The last thing I wanted to do was mooch off my siblings while living here. Plus, I needed to fill my days with something other than the thoughts of the life—and death—that I’d left behind.

  “Lil, you can’t have a fucking kid working at a fucking bar.” I refused to look at the man who spoke. Refused. “Especially Big Louie’s.”

  “She’s not a kid,” Channing shot back with a roll of her eyes.

  Still refused to look at him.

  “Well she’s certainly wearing clothes that look like they belong on a twelve-year-old,” Emmett replied tightly.

  “Why are you looking at what my sister is wearing?” Chance growled and the tone of the conversation just got a whole lot darker.

  “Why aren’t you looking at what your sister is not wearing?” Emmett sneered, like Chance had a say in what I wore.

  Chance took a step towards him looking like he was ready to pummel him. “Are you fucking—“

  I smiled tightly, letting out a pained laugh as I decided to throw myself farther under the bus in order to break the tension and said, “Since everyone is talking like I’m not sitting right here, I’m going to go grab another beer.”

  I stood and scooted around the fire, completely proud of myself for not looking over at the red-haired ass who’d started this whole thing.

  “I’ll come with you,” Tammy offered even though she was only drinking water.

  I made a beeline for the deck door, but not fast enough to outrun Emmett’s voice as he continued, “Seriously? Is she even old enough to be drinking that?”

  “Emmett!” Tammy exclaimed with stern disapproval, scolding him like he was a small child at the daycare.

  “Dude, chill the fuck out,” Chance rasped. “It’s her first night here. You know it’s bad when I’m telling you to lay off the asshole a bit, but you need to lay off before I have to lay you out.”

  I opened the fridge. Third beer, anyone?

  I popped the top, hoping that tonight was not setting the tone for how life here was going to be.

  “Sorry, Al,” my sister murmured behind me. I didn’t realize that Channing had followed us inside. “I should have warned you better about Emmett. I didn’t expect him to be like that.”

  I shook my head, trying to brush off my irritation. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just been a long day.”

  “No, he shouldn’t be like that to you. To anyone, really, but I don’t always have control over them.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Tammy interjected, “he really is like that to everyone—including me, which is why I tend to steer clear, especially when they are together.”

  “I can’t believe that they would ever talk to you like that,” I mused softly, no longer even enjoying the beer that I kept drinking.

  No, this response was definitely all tailored for me. Emmett was annoyed because I’d slammed the door in his face—even though he deserved it; I couldn’t imagine Tammy ever doing anything like that.

  “I should probably get going. I have an early morning with the kids. Let me give you my phone number so that we can figure out another time to hang out.”

  We exchanged numbers and hugged briefly before she left.

  “Lil!” I heard my brother yell again.

  My sister huffed as her head hung heavy, murmuring, “Son of a biscuit.”

  I just stared at my sister over the top of my beer bottle as she stepped back outside to see what Chance wanted; it was silent inside, so I could hear every word they said.

  “Oh my God, are you smoking out here?”

  “We just lit one, calm down.”

  My eyebrows raised. I had no idea that my brother smoked.

  “I hate it when you smoke here.”

  “Our house.” Silence. “We’re gonna go out for a little. Figured Ally probably wants to head to bed anyway—long day and all.”

  “Fine. Whatever. Don’t make me have to pick you up at the police station the first night she is in town though.”

  “That was one time.” I heard Nick retort.

  “One too many,” Chan replied.

  The way my sister handled the three of them was pretty entertaining—especially after a few drinks. She just did not care—and maybe that’s what I needed to be like. Those few seconds of admiration vanished as she threw me right back into the crosshairs of my nemesis. “Emmett, you need to go apologize to Ally first. Don’t even think of disagreeing with me.”

  I hoped that he would. For all the I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude he had, I prayed he would just laugh in her face and leave. But, just in case, I closed my eyes and chugged the rest of the beer.

  “You’re too good at that for being illegal.” Sandpaper—all up along my back and neck. Goosebumps returning in full force.

  Of course, she’d sent him back in here alone, too.

  “Didn’t you come in to apologize?” I asked, not caring if he knew that I was eavesdropping.

  Definitely caring that he was moving closer to me though, I stood up taller and took a step back.

  He glanced over to the door and then back to me as though he were about to tell me a deep, dark secret. “I don’t apologize, sunshine.”

  Now close enough, I realized that my brother had been referring to weed—not cigarettes—that they were smoking. The herbal sweetness mixed with alcohol should have been disgusting to me—instead, being around Emmett was giving me a contact hi
gh. Just like when he was at the door, my entire body tingled—only worse this time because of the alcohol. I took another step back trying to get away from the haze of hateful desire that clouded my mind—but he followed me like I was his prey.

  “Then why are you here?” I said, realizing that I’d moved so far back that I was no longer visible to my siblings through the door. “And why were you delivering pizza?”

  I was serious. But it must have been the way that I asked—dumbfounded and dying to know—that made him actually laugh. And not with a grin, but with a real smile. I bit hard into my tongue to suppress a groan.

  It was the beer—it had to be the beer, I prayed.

  And then I prayed that my panties were strong enough to withstand the assault.

  “Why are you dressed like a twelve-year-old?” He got in my face. His smile disappearing, his voice dropping to a frightening calm. “If you ever wear something like that in public again, I will make sure your brother locks you in your room until you’re fucking fifty.”

  SnowmassHole? More like Snowmassive Asshole.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? God, if you aren’t here to apologize, then just go. I’ll tell Channing whatever she wants to hear.”

  I was fuming and he just let loose another dirty smirk. I needed to get away from this asshole before I killed him—or kissed him—wondering which would end me in more trouble. His hand darted out to grab my arm as I tried to brush by. “I wanted to welcome you to Aspen, sunshine and tell you, you better get those big girl panties out of that bunch if you’re going to survive here.”

  Fine. Fine. He wanted to play this game well, then I could, too. I wasn’t going to let this asshole walk all over me. My eyes narrowed on him before I mustered the sweetest smile onto my face.

  “But, Emmett, how can they be bunched…” I leaned in closer to his fire, watching as the sugar in my voice coated my next words, “…if I’m not wearing any?”

  I swore I saw sparks fly, but I didn’t wait around in case they set me ablaze. Pulling from his grasp, I sauntered upstairs, not caring that my shorts had ridden up, probably giving a good show of at least the lower third of my ass.

  I smiled, inexplicably proud of myself for feeling like I’d won the first battle between us.

  The butterflies in my stomach fluttered furiously though, reminding me that I may have won this battle, but I’d thrown down the gauntlet and started a war, with the hottest devil known to man—and definitely known to woman.

  Jesus motherfucking Christ.

  My dirty, cut-up hand squeezed around the glass of straight whiskey the bartender had just set down in front of me. I was trying to break it; I wanted to feel the sharp shards of glass cut through my skin and give me what I knew would be only a momentary distraction from the clusterfuck of emotions inside of me.

  She was the little sister.

  Of course she was. Her. With her golden hair, perfectly perky tits, and her tanned and toned body that spilled like sunshine out of every piece of her clothing. Her that made my almost-thirty-year-old body burn with a desire that I hadn’t felt since high school.

  She was heaven on my eyes and fucking hell on my heart.

  When I said that her clothes looked like they belonged on a twelve-year-old, I wasn’t talking about style-wise. I was talking about how they barely covered every sweet inch of her incredible body.

  I was a goddamn fool. I should have known from her eyes when she opened the door that she was one of them. Instead, she’d appeared in the doorway and I’d been blindsided by every goddamn thing about her—her blonde hair that fell down over her shoulders, shoulders that were probably the only thing covered by the fucking top she was wearing. Christ. The damn thing cut off just below her breasts—so close that my fingers itched to reach right underneath it and cup them; they were the perfect size for my hands; I’d held enough of them to know. Just large enough to fill my palms without being too much to hold. They wanted my touch, her nipples hard and reaching for me, demanding my tongue.

  The problem was that I shouldn’t have been fucking late. But I had five more snowboards to finish before I could even start work on my own. The US Snowboarding Open was still eight months away, but I needed these to be in riders’ hands for the beginning of the season—tested, tuned, and ready. Thankfully, I knew Pride would be riding one of my custom-built snowboards in the X Games—that would get me even more exposure as though I wasn’t just barely keeping up with the orders as it was. Even with that, I would have been to Pride’s on time, but she called. I never answered, of course. I paid them every month which was all the answer she was ever going to get from me.

  I shouldn’t feel any obligation to her—she wouldn’t want me to—but I did.

  Just like I shouldn’t want to possess the little Ryder—her mind, her body, and her smart-ass mouth. One look was all it took for me to know that I’d claimed her for myself and I’d kill anyone who looked at her like I did.

  I shouldn’t feel any of those things for her—Pride’s little sister—but I did.

  Do. Not. Touch.

  She came with more warning signs than a goddamn museum exhibit—warnings that I’d never listened to; my body begged me not to start now.

  My instantaneous need for her sucker-punched me in the gut. I’d been the one to suggest a blunt, needing the high to take the edge off of the kind of erection I hadn’t had for a decade; the kind that made you steal candy from a kid or throw an old woman under a bus in order to get what it needed—in this case, Ally Ryder’s hot, tight, and panty-free pussy wrapped around it.

  I was relaxed. I was calm. But I wasn’t going to take any chances, so I’d been the one to suggest we leave in search of harder alcohol and willing women. And then fucking Lil made me go back in to ‘apologize.’

  In all honesty, I had thought about it—uttering the s-word just so that my extreme dislike wouldn’t be suspect for the unquenchable desire it concealed. But when I walked inside and saw her with her head tilted back, the beer bottle covered with her lips… Plans changed.

  She was taunting the shit out of me and she didn’t even fucking know it. I stalked over towards her before she could take notice of how my dick was punching a goddamn hole in the front of my should-have-been baggy jeans.

  I saw how she looked at me. She was still practically a teenager, too inept to hide her desire—the way she licked her lips as I stepped closer to her, her eyelids heavy. Drunk. Breathless. Wanting.

  She’d probably only been with perfect gentlemen before; the thought pissed me off even more, so I pushed harder. Taunting her. Undermining her. Ridiculing her. I wanted her to know that that would never be me. That I was not a good guy. I was not to be trusted. I also wanted her to know that I wasn’t one of those bad boys who was just looking to be saved. I needed her to never want to be near me again; the kind of blue balls I was going to have tonight was something I didn’t have any desire to repeat.

  I expected her to cave. Instead, Little Miss Sunshine pulled out a goddamn sword. In a move that I was either too drunk, high, or horny to anticipate, she’d seen my bet and raised the ante.

  And if there hadn’t been other people—other family members—in the immediate vicinity, I would have enjoyed reddening the skin of her ass that she found amusing to tease me with… Right before I fucked her and corrupted every last ray of her sunshine.

  “Since when are you the drinking police?” Nick laughed, the sound bringing me back to the barstool I was draped over at Big Louie’s, his fucking penetrating stare discomforting me before he nodded to the bartender for another round of drinks. He knew exactly what I was thinking; I didn’t know how, but he did. And what came out of his mouth next was his way of confirming it. “Who cares if she is legal or not? Not like you’re trying to fuck her…”

  “Hey!” Chance yelled at him. “Say that again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

  I let them have their stare-down. Nick may know my thoughts, but he didn’t care about ratting me out. I
t was far more entertaining to see me tortured.

  She’s not even twenty-one; she is a fucking child.

  I kept telling myself that like each time made it truer. The fucking fact was that my body just didn’t give a shit. My body knew it wasn’t the truth. She was over eighteen—over twenty—and all woman—every ample, silken curve of her. And I wanted to darken every sweet, sun-kissed inch with my touch.

  Especially the inches that weren’t covered with underwear.

  “Can we please shut the fuck up about your sister already? I am trying to fuck something and this is killing the mood,” I growled.

  They gave it up a second later, following my gaze over to Holly—the Jessica Rabbit-esque brunette who frequented Big Louie’s most weekends in search of me—and her friend with the short black curls. I’d fucked Holly before. We’d all fucked her before. But I was the one she always came back to because we were both alike—interested in a fuck and not the future.

  My lip curled as I chugged the rest of my Jameson; of course, I ordered my namesake. I looked over at her again above my glass. I hated that her breasts were just slightly too big. I hated that her skin was pale like snow instead of tanned from the sun. I hated that her hair was a shiny molasses instead of warm and golden.

  I hated how when I looked at her, all I saw were the ways she wasn’t my best friend’s sister.

  Slamming my glass down on the bar, I had the bartender make my next drink a double. I waited until I knew she was looking at me before I deigned to glance over and give her a nod, letting her know that yes, I would allow her the pleasure of being pummeled by my dick tonight.

  One more drink should put me over the hurdle of remembering how pissed I was that I was only interested in fucking Holly because she wouldn’t give a shit if I pretended that she was someone else while I did it—someone else who was like the sun.

  Hot and completely out of my reach.

  3. I hate the way he could make me want him and hate him in the very same breath.