The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  I stared in a daze down at my cock bobbing in front of her face; my lips twitched. I could see every pulse of the vein that ran along its side all the way up to the blunt purple head, the damn thing desperate to be rammed down her hot, wet throat.

  She grinned up at me before closing those perfect, pink lips over the darkened head of my cock and the world around me fell into the vacuum that was Jessa Madison’s hot, wet mouth. The fact that I stumbled back had nothing to do with the alcohol or the weed. My fingers disappeared through the pink waves of her hair, holding the storm that was her tongue hard as I began to rock into her.

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as my enormous cock choked her with each thrust. Pink strands cut into the circulation of my fingers as I tugged on her head. It was probably painful for her, but she thrived on it, sucking me in so far, I felt her throat spasm with a cough. I held for a split second, the clench of those muscles was mind-numbing before pulling back and letting her suck down air before repeating the motion. Intermittent suffocation it seemed was ok; she wanted my cum down her throat more than she needed air.

  “Jessa…” I lost myself in her. In us. Her fingers dug into my hips as I ground against her—all of my frustration, all of my helplessness, all of my self-loathing melting underneath her tongue.

  She was a fucking mystery.

  She was fucking magic.

  I felt like I was back in high school again—on the verge of coming because I had zero control of what her mouth was doing to me. I didn’t know how she was taking so much of my dick but I was mesmerized watching it disappear inside of her, listening to the sounds of my slick flesh sliding into the suction of her mouth. So, I pushed harder—and she took it. She pulled me deeper, the tip of my cock marking the back of her throat.

  “Your mouth belongs to me,” I bit out. In response, her tongue pressed hard along the sensitive side of my dick and I almost fucking came.

  I thrust myself deeper into her hotness, wanting to feel confident that I was touching something that no other fucker she’d given head to in the past eight years had.

  “You belong to me.” I was a possessive fucking prick and I didn’t give a fucking shit about it either. What I did care about was the way she goddamn swallowed around my cock and how that made her throat close around my engorged, pulsing head.

  One hand slid up to cup my balls and I lost it, roaring her name as I finally found the release that had eluded me for the past however many weeks since I’d seen her again. No matter what relief I’d found myself or with Monroe, it wasn’t this. Nothing and no one but her could ever give me this.

  “Take it all,” I rasped.

  And she did. She locked her lips tight around my dick like it held a fucking secret and let my cum fill up her mouth before she swallowed.

  I hissed at the sensation.

  Tipping her head back, I caught the golden flecks in her eyes as I slowly slipped my cock from her mouth. She only gave me a second to enjoy the sight of her on her knees, lips swollen and wet with my desire, and my dick right in front of her face. My thumb brushed over her lower lip.

  “Having you suck my dick is probably the closest I’ll ever come to heaven.” She rolled her eyes and stood. “What? Just thought you should know.”

  “Goodnight, Chance,” she sighed and began to step around me.

  My hand on her arm stopped her. “Why?” I wasn’t joking anymore. I needed to know why she didn’t run. I’d expected her to. And she should have.

  “Because I wanted to make you feel good.” Simple response. Complex answer.

  “And do you want to feel good?” I wanted to taste her come apart.

  “I can’t.”

  “But you want to.” To emphasize the statement, my finger reached out and brushed over her taut nipple. “Just let me taste you, J-bird.”

  “No. This might be a mistake, but that definitely would be. I need to get better at resisting you, not worse.”

  “Jessa,” I chuckled at her sudden wave of caution. “You can’t resist me. You can pretend all you want but just look at you—your tits are raising a fucking hand asking to be sucked, your pussy is turned on like a fucking faucet begging to give me a drink, and your mouth just swallowed my dick like it was the first drink of your damn seltzer water on a hot summer day. You. Are. Mine.”

  “You’re wrong.” Her eyes glittered.

  “Well, I still have two more hot, tight parts of you to claim so you have two more chances to prove it,” I smirked. “But, after tonight, I can’t say it’s looking good for you J-bird.”

  She tugged her arm from me and made for the stairs. By the time I got my sweats up and began to follow her, Ally’s door shut and I heard the lock engage.

  Dammit. Maybe she didn’t need me quite as badly as I needed her.

  Maybe I was drunk, the way I still finished the stairs and stood frozen outside the door. I wasn’t going to knock—it was late and I wasn’t going to beg. Just as I finally turned, sufficiently sated and exhausted enough to make sleeping soundly a distinct possibility I heard it—and the sound stopped me dead in my tracks.

  Softly, at first. Then with a growing intensity and strain that turned my entire body rock-solid.

  Moaning.

  Like a fucking teenager, I stood with my ear practically pressed against the door as I listened to Jessa as she pleasured herself to the thought of me. Even with the dead silence of the middle of the night, I couldn’t hear her fingers sliding through her wet folds, rubbing impatiently against her clit—but I imagined it. Holding onto the doorframe, I closed my eyes and let her mewls, gasps, and moans guide me through her pleasure. They grew louder and I could fucking hear how she was biting her lip trying to—unsuccessfully—quell the small screams of pleasure from escaping. And then she came.

  How did I know?

  Because I heard my name echoing against the door. If I would have stayed in the kitchen—or gone down to my room—I would have missed it. I would have missed the way my name sizzled through the room like steam, slipping underneath the edge of the door for my listening pleasure.

  I’d been relieved. I’d been one-hundred-fucking-percent sated. And then, like an idiot, I’d had to follow her up here and listen as she finger-fucked herself behind closed doors to my image instead of just letting me be the one to give it to her.

  Now, I was frustrated on so many levels. But it was worth it because I’d heard the one thing that proved me right.

  Tonight, it may have just been to the thought—the memory—of me, but soon I would be very fucking real and really fucking her because Jessa Madison belonged to me.

  I would have her again. And then I’d leave her without explanation or warning, just like she’d done to me.

  I swore I would do it and I went to bed ignoring the thought that I wondered if I actually could.

  Knight of Cups: This card often appears as arrival of someone with an interesting invitation which will result in an emotional experience that will bring high energy and lift you to an exhilarating state.

  I FELT LIKE MY LIFE right now should be set to the theme song of ‘Friends’ because it hadn’t been my day, my week, questionably my month, and arguably my year. The Temperance card had been re-taped to the bathroom mirror upstairs and I felt like it probably should have been taped to my forehead the way I needed its meaning as a reminder.

  I shivered as I walked out of the drug store. I ran over there on lunch because I needed some essentials for the house—essentials that I owned, but could not, in fact, get to because my landlord, Mr. Evans, was an incompetent ass.

  Note: frustration (both sexual and otherwise) was severely affecting my mood.

  To add a cherry on top of the fact that I was now living with my ex, I left early the morning after that night to go move the rest of my stuff from my old apartment. Yeah, wasn’t happening. The entire building was completely closed off and looked like it was about to be fumigated or something along those lines. No warning. No notice. No ‘hey, m
aybe you should get your shit out first.’ And no answer when I called him.

  A few minutes of furious frustration led me to call the company whose name and number was plastered all over the contraption that covered parts of the building. They informed me that it wouldn’t be until next weekend when I would have access to the apartment that I still hadn’t been refunded last month’s rent for.

  Working with Chance for an hour every day had been taxing—draining, even. Living with him… was completely overwhelming. Every look, a silent reminder of having his dick in my mouth. Every smirk hinting that he knew his was the face… the body… the cock… I thought of at night as my fingers rubbed furiously over my clit trying to ease the unbearable ache that his nearness built up during the day. Oh, he made comments to that effect too, comments that had me wearing underwear again every day even though I sarcastically denied each and every one of his assertions. His expressions, though, called me a liar.

  And that was just when he was there. When he wasn’t, my eyes were always looking for him when I got home and when I woke up. I moved around the house so quietly because I wanted to hear him—to know when he was coming, or wondering what he was doing downstairs. I must have lit ten different candles over the past few days but none of them could get rid of his scent—pine with a little bit of sweat and a whole lotta sex.

  Fine—I was exaggerating for effect. But only a little.

  Most of the nights when I got home from work, Chance wasn’t there. I assumed he was with Nick because it was better than assuming he was with Monroe—or some other female.

  That was one good thing, after my complete lack of self-control the night we realized we were roommates, his switch had flipped to ignoring Monroe at the gym—a feat considering that she probably pulled a muscle for how hard she was throwing herself at him.

  “Now look who’s late.” I froze mid-step, having just walked into the gym for my afternoon—for Chance’s—appointment, and turned my head slowly to see that very man leaning against the wall on my left. Immediately I clicked on my iPad to check the time. It was two minutes after one—but of course he would call me out on it.

  “Sorry,” I grumbled. “I had to run to the drug store.”

  “For what?” he asked, casually walking over to me. He liked to do this, too—watch me as I watched him; and I couldn’t help myself the way I watched him.

  He was like a drug. And tasting him that one night put me right back on a crash course for addiction. Now, every time he moved a muscle, my mouth wanted to lick it. I wanted to feel him move under my mouth, against my skin, and most maddeningly, inside of me. And he knew it. That’s why he didn’t push. He kept his hands to himself because he was waiting for me to break and come crawling to him. But I wouldn’t.

  If he was proud, then I was stubborn as hell.

  “Shampoo and conditioner. I can’t get the rest of my stuff from my apartment until this coming weekend.” I’ve come to realize that refusing to answer certain questions is not worth the provocation. “We’ll start on the mats today.”

  He nodded, walking in front of me so that I had a wonderful view of his ass. My fingers dug into the edges of the iPad, wishing they were somewhere else.

  “You’re always welcome to use my shower, J-bird.” He grinned.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I have a feeling that your shower comes with a few more inhabitants than shampoo and conditioner,” I retorted smartly, looking down at my iPad so that I could swallow down the delicious thought of showering with him.

  He laughed—a sound that immediately drew my gaze. We hadn’t had any sort of serious discussion in the last few days—mostly because he really had been getting home late and any other time we were around each other, we never seemed to make it past the sexual banter, our mutual desire suffocating out every other thought. His laughter though had become more prevalent. It wasn’t the angry laughs that were sugared with vengeance like they had been the first week or so. No, this was real laughter and it was what gave me hope that he was finally loosening his death-grip on punishing everyone and everything around him—including himself—for what had happened.

  “I promise that you will leave very, very clean. Every inch of you. Inside and out.” He said the words like he’d just answered me about the weather forecast for the weekend.

  Current forecast: One-hundred percent chance that it was raining in my horribly annoying panties.

  “Thanks for the offer.” My voice now sounded like the words had been run against the sandpaper of desire—a successful grin lighting his face. And this was exactly the types of conversations that had been happening at basically every turn. Now, it was Friday and Friday meant that I would have an entire weekend of this.

  I wasn’t sure that I was going to make it.

  “You still using blue shampoo?” he asked, shocking me for the umpteenth time in the last—eight—minutes.

  He remembered that? About my blue shampoo?

  I tried to wiggle the corners of my mouth up into some sort of expression of nonchalance, but I don’t think it really worked. “Not blue anymore.” My eyes flicked up to my hair. “Pink.”

  “Right.” He nodded. I was almost tempted to ask if he remembered the name of it, just to satisfy myself into believing that he hadn’t cared that much about me. But, I didn’t because my gut told me that he knew exactly what it was called.

  “L-let’s move over to the calf machines.” I moved back to the professional conversation that should have been going on. Only, as he stood, I could see that our little shower conversation had a similar effect on him—his cock hanging long and heavily against the front of his shorts. Not full-blown erection, but for anyone who was looking—like me—there was no doubt where his mind had been.

  I stepped back to let him walk by me and he bent his head as he passed saying, “Want another taste, J-bird?”

  Heat bloomed in my cheeks and my eyes immediately scanned the room to see if anyone noticed how close he was to me right now, or how hard he was, or how hot I was. Only one set of eyes, and I didn’t care what she thought.

  “I’ll pass again,” I said even though the breathlessness that invaded every word suggested otherwise, “but, it looks like your little friend would be happy to oblige you.”

  I couldn’t help myself from alluding to Monroe. Maybe because I knew that she was watching. Or maybe because I knew that she wanted to suck his dick just as much as I did and I wanted to hear him say that he didn’t want her.

  He raised an eyebrow, glancing behind my head to where I knew she was still watching us. “Monroe?” he snickered and I tried not to smile. “Maybe Frost can teach her a thing or two.” He bent down right next to my ear and my breath caught. I should push him away because he’s too close, but I wanted to know what more he was going to say. I wanted to hear words that would soothe the jealousy that I shouldn’t be feeling. “But from my experience, she wouldn’t know her way around a cock if she put that shit into Google Maps.”

  I blinked twice and then I broke out into laughter. He’d already started to walk away, but turned and looked back at me—like the rest of the people in the gym—as I began to laugh uncontrollably. It was funny. Ok, maybe not that funny. But it released the tension between us and cooled down the sting of jealousy that I’d felt—and that release came out as such hysterical laughter that I finally had to hold my iPad up in front of my face to try to restrain it.

  “I was going to pick up some Italian food for dinner tonight,” he began as he hopped off the last machine I had him on for his session. “Do you want some?”

  “I probably shouldn’t, but sure.” I loved carbs far too much. “Whatever you think is good and then just let me know and I’ll give you the money for it.”

  I started, realizing that he was standing right in front of me.

  “You’re not paying for anything,” he said firmly.

  “Why not? It’s not like this is a date or something…” Very bad parts of me begged for him to disagree.<
br />
  “Because I said so,” he replied hoarsely, his head coming closer to mine.

  I thought about arguing. I even opened my mouth to argue, but he was too close and it made my mind foggy. He also would make more of a scene if I continued to refuse. And it was just dinner, what was the big deal?

  “Ok, fine,” I squeaked. “Thanks.”

  He immediately stepped away and let oxygen back into the room which I gulped down in obnoxious quantities.

  “See you at home, J-bird!” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Meanwhile, I clicked on the iPad even though I knew exactly what time it was and began the mental countdown until it was time to leave.

  “Do you want the rest of my garlic bread?”

  My eyes flicked up to his. He was smiling and I knew I’d been caught eyeing the crisped crust that he’d left on his plate.

  “If you don’t want it.” It was a good thing that Chance already knew that I liked to eat—otherwise the piece of chicken parmesan, two huge spoonfuls of baked ziti, and three slices of garlic bread would have definitely given it away.

  “All yours, J-bird.” He handed it to me and I dug in just as he asked, “So, how was Texas?”

  And this was what the delicious garlicky goodness was costing me.

  I’d walked inside earlier to see Chance unpacking the food onto our plates—again just wearing those sweatpants from the other night and missing his shirt; my mouth watered before I even had a chance to see or smell the food.

  After he greeted me, I’d had to force my gaze away which allowed me to realize that he’d even set the table—nothing fancy by any means, but something more than my assumption that we’d be eating at the kitchen counter, tip-toeing along the line between fighting and fucking.

  “Good. Hot.”

  He laughed. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

  “It was good to be back… and close to family.” I swallowed the last bite. “College was kind of a rough time for me especially in the beginning, so it was good to have that support system there.”