The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  I did the exercises as she instructed and with a smile on my face even when my knee started to complain. She wouldn’t see my weakness. No fucking way.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “To what?”

  “To you.” My jaw spasmed at her response. My knee was starting to scream and now she wanted to talk.

  “I fell. Didn’t you hear the story?” I breathed out harshly.

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  “And I want to hear those little moans you make when I stick my tongue inside your pussy. We can’t always get what we want. Especially you. Especially from me.”

  That shut her up. Pink returned to her cheeks as she focused on her iPad, probably typing in notes about how the patient was a gorgeous, giant dick.

  Or gorgeous with a giant dick.

  I kept my gaze locked on her. It was the only way to push through the healing burn spreading in my knee. Mostly, I was waiting for her to bend over. I wanted to see if she was wearing underwear. I made sure to get rid of that habit early on in our relationship and I wondered if it had stuck. That shit was too many barriers. Because when I needed her—I fucking needed her.

  That part didn’t seem to have changed. There were at least five places in the gym that I envisioned using for sex-ercise—including this damn pool.

  She sighed and the noise only made my imaginings worse.

  “Ok. I think that is good for today, Chance.”

  The treadmill in the water came to a stop while she grabbed me a towel—bending over to get a fresh one.

  No fucking underwear.

  “How do you feel?” she asked objectively as I climbed out of the water, taking the towel from her. “You look like you’re in pain.”

  Captain Obvious over here.

  “I blame you for that.” Those eyes of hers watched me as I dried off.

  “Well, if you want your knee to get better, unfortunately, you are going to be a little uncomfortable.”

  “Wasn’t talking about my fucking knee.”

  At this point in our relationship, every time I brought pink to her cheeks felt like I’d given her a fucking orgasm.

  Her groan and eye-roll brought a smile of success to my face. “Just go change and then you’ll need to stretch and then we are done.”

  All this talk of stretching was making me itch to stretch her. But I had weeks—weeks to push her, tempt her, and eventually break her. Too much, too fast would defeat the purpose. I wanted to make her suffer like I did in the weeks after she’d kissed Frost and then disappeared down South.

  I wasn’t stretching.

  “I think we are done now.”

  Her eyes flared. “Chance, you are here for a reason. You can’t skip out on one of the—“

  I hauled her against my chest. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, J-bird. Including you.” She felt so damn good against me—she always had. I pressed my hips into hers because I couldn’t stop myself. And neither did she. Her soft hands on my chest. The water on my body soaking into the front of her scrubs.

  “Let. Me. Go.” I smiled because her body didn’t agree with her words.

  “Or what, Jessa? You’ll smack me? You’ll complain to Dr. Lev? On your first day of work? You’ll quit?” That’s it, gorgeous. Find that anger. I could see her rage simmering underneath the surface and it spurred me on. “Go ahead, J-bird, run out of here and complain about me, go request I get a different therapist.

  “No. I can’t.” Defiance at its sexiest. “I won’t. This is my dream. I won’t let you ruin it.”

  Good. I didn’t want her to.

  “Stay and I’ll make it your nightmare.” And that was a promise.

  “Yeah?” She fired back. “How? Are you going to make my life miserable for the next five weeks? Sorry, Chance. You can try all you want, but that’s only five weeks. I’ve been working towards this job for a long time and I’ll be damned if I let you ruin that, so go right ahead and give it your best shot.”

  “I don’t care about ruining that, J-bird. I care about ruining you.”

  “I won’t let you ruin me either, Pride.” She never used my nickname except when she thought that I was letting my pride get ahead of me. Anger sizzled through me. She didn’t get to judge me. Not now. Not after what she did.

  “What makes you think you have a choice?” My mouth quirked up on one side as I dropped my face against her neck right where it met her ear and rubbed my throbbing erection against her. Fucking thing jumped when I heard her breath catch in her throat. Christ, my body wanted this woman like a fucking crack-addict wants cocaine. “What makes you think you won’t be begging for it by the end?”

  Everything up until this moment had been going according to plan. Until I realized how close her soft, jasmine-scented skin was to my mouth. I couldn’t stop myself as my lips pressed gently onto her cheek, savoring the feel of her flesh underneath my mouth once again.

  For one fucking second I pretended.

  I pretended that life hadn’t happened to us.

  And then I convinced myself that the whole reason I’d maneuvered us together again was solely motivated by vengeance.

  And then I ripped myself away from her and stalked out of the room, cursing myself for having to pretend.

  I knew my girl. I knew her better than she knew herself. And I knew exactly the steps I had to take to lead her right into the palm of my hand. Or onto the dick in my pants.

  Step one: Let her know exactly what I was planning so she had no one to blame but herself for falling for it.

  I wasn’t worried about that. I just needed to make sure that when she fell, she didn’t take me down with her.

  Step two: A little jealousy thrown in the mix would only make this better.

  Step three: Watch her fall and then walk the fuck away. Just like she’d done to me.

  Smirking, I saw Monroe in the gym, trying to give me the cold shoulder. Let’s see how long that would last.

  “Monroe.” Step two was going to be fun.

  “I see you are working with the new girl.” Attitude, really? She should know better. Yes, the new girl who was watching us right now.

  “Did you miss me?” Now, she at least turned to face me.

  “I mean…” I was half-naked. Only Jessa would have the balls to lie and say no to my face if I were having this conversation with her; Monroe wasn’t that type of girl.

  “New girl says I need to stretch.”

  “Well,” a coy smile spread onto her face, “I think I can help you with that.”

  Knight of Cups (Reversed): This card indicates that the person involved has let his emotions control his life too much, rather than acting on logic. He may be moody, jealous, or emotional to the point of incapacity.

  A PART OF ME GENUINELY hoped that after one afternoon of tormenting me, Chance would have better things to do than show up for his subsequent appointments. I was mistaken. The other part of me—the professional part—prayed that he’d stick with it.

  God, it was eight years ago. Couldn’t we both just move on? Or at least pretend like it?

  It would be a lie to say he was the only one struggling with that…

  Yeah, the man was still hot as all get-out, but so what? I’d thought that about countless guys since we’d broken up.

  “Surprised to see me?” He grinned and my frown deepened. Was it that obvious?

  “Thought you might have better things to do.”

  “Better things than watching your sweet ass all afternoon while pissing you off? I don’t think so.” One hand held his gym bag, the other had his thumb hooked in the waist of his gym shorts. It was an exercise in and of itself to keep my eyes from straying down to the front of them, wondering if I was going to get a second viewing today of what lay underneath.

  “I’m not upset.” The smile that spread over my face was the expressive version of ‘I can’t believe it’s not Butter.’ Looked like a smile, felt like a smile, tasted like a smile… but it was still
one-hundred percent fake because I was one-hundred percent frustrated.

  My body began humming the second he walked through the doors. My sex clenching traitorously. Eight years. And one look at the man’s dick, a few words of innuendo, and Niagara Falls opened up between my thighs.

  “So, today, I’d like to start you with some stretching exercises and really determine a baseline for your range of motion.” My fake smile punctuated my instructions. Stay professional. And stop thinking about his dick.

  And how it wants you.

  Stop it.

  I spun and walked towards the mats, talking as I walked. “How are you feeling after yesterday’s session?” Glancing over my shoulder as I spoke. He was following me. Too closely.

  “Fine.”

  I stayed standing, pointing where I wanted him to sit. “We’ll start with hips and then work down to your knees and ankles.”

  “Pretty sure my hips have a good range of motion, J-bird.” His words, the glimmer in his eyes, everything about him radiated sex.

  “Please, sit,” I instructed with a smile on my face. I didn’t have a choice.

  He stepped onto the mat, pausing right in front of me, his face coming within a breath of mine. “They have an even better range when I’m inside of you. You know, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl and your p—“

  “Chance!” I caught his grin as I turned and took a few steps towards the other end of the mat. I needed space before I combusted—or climaxed—on the spot.

  Finally complying with my request, he sat on the mat and listened as I went through the stretches that I wanted him to do.

  “You miss Texas?”

  My gaze jerked up from my iPad, startled by the question. He’d stopped putting pressure on his leg, waiting for my answer. “Keep stretching.”

  “Keep talking.”

  I bit back a groan. “Sometimes. Mostly my family.” His arms tightened around his leg again, stretching his external rotators.

  “Why’d you come back?”

  Was it going to be twenty questions every day with him?

  “Because this is where I want to work.”

  “You have a boyfriend?”

  I pursed my lips. “None of your business. Do you have a girlfriend?” My retort was meant to be tit-for-tat, only a nagging part inside of me actually wanted to know.

  He laughed and I knew I was in for a treat with his answer. “Depends on how you define ‘girlfriend,’ but if you mean like you and I were, then fuck no. I learned that lesson. However, if you’re wondering if I’ve kept my dick in my pants all these years pining after you and waiting for your return… well, the answer is still the same. Fuck no.”

  “I-I wouldn’t think that,” I stammered. I hadn’t thought that. Still… hearing its truth hurt.

  “You miss me, J-bird?” His sneer told me that he wasn’t serious.

  “No.” Narrowing my eyes, I kept my tone flat with faux indifference. “You miss me?” Same retort. I should have learned the first time that responding like this was a bad idea.

  His muscles rippled underneath the cold harshness of his voice. “Jessa, I’ve probably fucked every pussy between here and Denver since you left, I haven’t had time to even give you a second thought.” He paused, propping his elbows on his knees, eyes glinting up at me. “Which is what you should have done when considering coming back here—not given it a second thought.”

  An unhealthy mixture of anger and jealousy rolled in my stomach. I shouldn’t be jealous. We’d been over eight years ago. Eight years was a long time to get over someone. Especially since we’d ended because of me. I had no right to be jealous of who he’d slept with since. Hell, I’d slept with people since. But for some reason, I was.

  I couldn’t keep the smile going any longer. Irritated defiance seeped into my body.

  “You don’t own this place, Chance. This is my home, too. I grew up here. I have friends here—people here—that I did miss. You aren’t going to make me regret it.”

  “You miss Frost?” His question was refined rage steeped in betrayal.

  Goosebumps sprayed over me like buckshot. It stung—the memory of what I’d done to him—but not as much as the look in his eyes that said he would never forget it.

  Asshole.

  My mouth burned like I’d rinsed it with a shot of Jack—and then the damn thing added fuel to the fire.

  “What if I do?” How does it feel, Chance?

  I didn’t. I wanted his reaction. I wanted him to know he wasn’t the only one who could play the hating game. I also wanted to see, if for only a second, that he could want me more than he wanted to hate me.

  There was no way in hell that I missed Frost. And minutes from now, I would regret my emotional outburst. But right now? I refused to be the only jealous one on the mat.

  For seconds, the dry anger hung between us ready to spark into a wildfire at any moment. I let myself dive into the blue depths of his eyes, searching beneath the surface of loathing for something more; instead, I drowned.

  “Well, you’re welcome to him. This time, just give me a heads up if you’re going to fuck him in the kitchen so that I can make sure I’m not there.” He stood. The sneer on his face was the only thing breaking through the hardness of his expression. “Unless you want me to watch; I’m down for that nowadays.”

  Jessa Lynn Madison. Do. Not. Punch. Him.

  “Screw you, Chance.”

  He laughed and picked up his bag. “Oh, you will, J-bird. And you won’t fucking miss Frost while you do it.”

  “Where are you going?” I raised my voice as he turned and began to walk away. “We aren’t finished here.” He didn’t turn. “Ok, fine. Go change. I’ll meet you in the pool room in five minutes. Don’t make me have to come find you!”

  His response? A wave over his shoulder. What was that supposed to mean?

  With a huff, I spun on my heel, practically tripping since I was on the mat and my sneaker didn’t slide that easily. I made for the aquatherapy room, hoping there would be moderate privacy inside.

  Sweet Lord. Was I crying?

  I groaned, berating myself for what had happened out there. This is exactly what happened when I got emotional. I didn’t think. Especially around Chance. Of course, I didn’t miss Nick. More than that, one of the reasons I had come back here was to finally tell Chance the truth… about everything… which meant the last thing I would want to do is let him think that I cared about Nick Frost.

  No, I laughed sadly, the last thing I wanted to do was let Chance think that I cared about him.

  The funny thing was that I’d been ok for a long time. Even after moving back here—unless I went over to their house—I really was fine. It had been eight years. We both should have moved on. We should be able to talk and interact like normal people.

  Wrong.

  Maybe if seeing him hadn’t made those years evaporate into nothing… Maybe if seeing him hadn’t made my heart ache and my body burn in places that I’d forgotten existed… Maybe then, it would have been a possibility.

  But for eight years, I’d forgotten how consuming his presence was to me. I wasn’t prepared for my physical or emotional reaction. He tried to goad me and in classic Jessa fashion, I returned with just as much fire. Anything he did, I returned the same: Anger, but especially passion.

  God. I buried my head in my hands. Our arguments… they’d been so fucking hot. Forget make-up sex. We’d fucked while we fought. And then again after.

  I didn’t want this flood of memories, reminding me how things had been with Chance. Crazy. Irrational. Uninhibited. Incredible.

  The desire to have it all again made me double over.

  No. Not happening.

  Bent over with my head upside down, I let the blood flow back into my brain. The next five weeks couldn’t be like this. I needed to go apologize for what I said and apologize for what I’d done to him. And then we needed to come to some sort of understanding so that the sparks that flew between u
s didn’t burn this building—this whole town—down around us.

  Where the hell was he?

  New waves of frustration rolled through me as I stalked back into the gym where there was no sign of him. I walked towards the front of the room, glancing out to see his Cherokee still in the lot.

  If he didn’t think that I wouldn’t come and get him in the men’s locker room, he had another thing coming.

  Pushing open the door, I hesitantly walked inside, not wanting to freak out any other potential inhabitants. The locker room was set up with wooden benches to the left and right, surrounded by walls of lockers; a hallway led back with showers branching off down the right, and then another matching locker area all the way at the end.

  My head jerked up as I heard soft, wet, slapping noises. Was he in the shower?

  “Chance?”

  I came to the showers. No, no one was in any of the showers, but the noises were louder.

  Determined, I made my way to the end of the hall.

  Bad idea, Jessa. Bad idea.

  As soon as I cleared the hallway wall, I found Chance. And what was making those noises.

  Monroe was sitting on the bench, facing the wall away from me. Chance was standing in front of her, his shorts not even all the way down, holding her head steady as he shoved his cock into her mouth. Even though I could see the tears streaming down her face from taking him so deep, her hands digging into his ass told me that she was definitely right where she wanted to be.

  And I was right where I didn’t want to be. And Chance… well, I was right where he wanted me.

  He’d been waiting for me. His gaze not even focused on Monroe, but on the end of the hall, waiting for my arrival. He arched an eyebrow at me as I stared—stupidly frozen in shock.

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat.

  He pulled out of her mouth, Monroe’s gasp for air breaking the silence.

  “Sorry. Looks like I forgot about you again.” The other girl’s head tilted slightly in my direction, a smile spreading over her face.

  Bullshit. But if that’s how he wanted to play it, he could go right ahead.

  Attempting my best casual smile, I shrugged and said, “Too bad you couldn’t forget enough to not request me for your therapy.”