My lower lip was going to look like a Kardashian’s in the morning the way I kept biting it. Who needs a lip kit when you have teeth and two tons of pent-up sexual desire?
“No.”
His groan of satisfaction set music to the movement of my body.
And that point was that I was all his.
Again, the paradox of the Hanged Man flashed in my mind. This time, it was somehow in the pain that I found pleasure.
I’d slept with guys in Texas—at first to prove that I was over Chance. Then, to prove that I no longer had anything to prove. But in those relatively minimal encounters, I’d never let anyone in there; Chance had been the only one to ever claim that.
Ok, maybe more than just that.
His fingers slid along the seam of my ass, trailing all the way down to catch a gush of desire from my sex, massaging it into my folds before pushing two fingers inside of me for a second before they were gone. “Next time,” he promised hoarsely.
His hand slid back up and his thumb paused over my dark little hole. My face felt like it was on fire having my ass spread open before him. I felt the tip of his finger push inside of me.
“You feel how tight you are here, J-bird?”
That slight invasion made the knots of desire inside of my tummy quickly unravel, the rope of restraint rapidly slipping from my grip, rocketing me toward my orgasm.
“So goddamn tight I’m going to fucking lose my mind inside you.” My mind was already lost.
The hand on my ass disappeared and a second later I felt the blunt head of his erection taking the place of his finger, rubbing back and forth along my ass as he fists himself. My whole body shivered in anticipation—this was going to hurt so good.
His fingers slid from my lower back around to my front, my stomach shaking as they glided down beneath the water and into my folds.
Fire and ice.
My tits should have been freezing—hanging out in the frigid air—but fire rolled through me as his fingers found their way back inside of me, pushing in deep before slipping out and rubbing around my clit.
“Are you ready for me, J-bird?” I could only groan in response as his fingers slid inside of me, hitting my G-spot again. “Fuck.”
I didn’t know how I was still holding on to reality until all movement stopped—the calm before the storm. And then I felt it—I felt him begin to push against my dark, tiny entrance. The water helped—and the fact that my shaking arms still managed to serve as a brace—but I was still tight and he was still impossibly large.
I whimpered feeling the hard thickness of him breaching the compact ring of muscles. I shifted and squirmed at the struggle that had him breathing in loud pants. One hand digging into my waist, the other with its fingers buried inside me, kept me steady.
It burned to the point of pain. But then his fingers rubbed on my G-spot again and that pain became the most indescribable pleasure as I feel a distinct stinging stretch of my muscles as he peeled through them. The pain became more. More of what, I couldn’t say—just more. I turned my head into my shoulder and bit down on the skin.
“Almost, gorgeous,” I heard him reassure me as if he could hear my thoughts through my moans. His endearment shook through my whole body and I surrendered to the pain.
“Holy fuck, J-bird…” He was angry—angry that I felt so good. “You are so goddamn tight.”
The fingers that steadied my waist hinted at what was about to happen when their nails dug into my flesh a second before he slammed all the way inside of me.
I cried out at the invasion. It was a fullness that could only be described by incoherent, unconscious, and unstoppable noises—like those from a child who is trying to make sense of and give name to something that he doesn’t understand.
For a second, I felt the cold edge of the tub underneath my fingers and then the sensation was gone again. I stayed perfectly still, impaled in every sense by the moment.
“So fucking perfect…” His coarse whisper floated over me like the barest of snowflakes just before an avalanche.
And then the avalanche descended.
He pounded into me—my ass, my sex. Christ, he claimed everything. I stopped breathing. I had no room for air in my body at this moment.
The air around me wasn’t cold enough. It blew against my skin, trying to freeze me over. Two fingers, then three, twisting again and again against my G-spot as he thrust his cock all the way inside of me. The sound of the water sloshing over the edge of the Jacuzzi a rhythmic soundtrack to Chance destroying everything below my waist.
I no longer felt the individual sensation of his cock sliding inside of my ass or the way his fingers rubbed the inside of my sex. Everything rolled into one—a snowball of pure sex that did what only snowballs do: it snowballed.
And then it rolled me right off of a cliff and exploded into fireworks.
My scream sublimated into the silence as I came. So much pleasure my body wanted to—tried to—jerk to relieve it, but I couldn’t because I was pinned to him. Instead, muscles I hadn’t learned about in school clenched around his fingers and his dick. And it proved to be too much for the both of us.
Chance lasted one more distorted second before his groan harmonized with mine and, in spite of the warm water all around me, I felt the hot jets of his release deep inside of me as he came.
Where we lived on the outskirts of Aspen wasn’t too populated and where this house was especially, provided the kind of seclusion that let you see every star in the night sky and understand the true meaning of profound silence.
Minute after minute ticked by where I would have sworn that our orgasms had propelled us in front of the speed of sound. Everything was thumping: the blood in my veins, my heart in my chest, Chance inside of me, his breath against my back.
I enjoyed the silence because the silence was safe.
“Holy fucking… fuck, J-bird,” he rasped, his groan like nails on a chalkboard as he slid out of me—first his fingers, then his dick. Water rushed around me… in me…
Was it gross to think about the fact that there was now a different kind of liquid bubbling through the hot tub? Yes. But it was also just plain hot.
I’d clean it later.
I peeled my hands off the edge of the tub, my skin somewhat frozen to the plastic. Still, I wasn’t cold.
I turned slowly to face him, his smirk growing as my eyes dropped to watch him tuck his dick back into his swimsuit underneath the murky water.
“Told you that ass of yours was mine, J-bird. Mine to fuck. Mine to sleep in. Mine to use as a fucking cock-warmer out here in the freezing cold.” His fingers gripped my chin and locked my attention on him.
I didn’t respond because the only words that I seemed to know at the moment were ‘Yes,’ ‘Yours,’ and ‘Always.’ And they were dangerous words for how treacherously quick we’d slid back into the way we used to be.
“Let’s go inside.” He stepped to the edge and hopped over, reaching for my towel and his. “I’d like to think your tits are just red from my mouth, but I’m not willing to risk them getting frostbite.” He smirked and held my towel open for me before even worrying about himself.
I hopped out, quickly wrapping the towel around me since I was naked—aside from the string bikini that hung around my neck that honestly looked more appropriate as a necklace than it did as a bathing suit.
“Seriously?” He laughed. “You know everything that I just put inside of you, right?”
I hugged the towel tighter, keeping my elbow and my tattoo close to my side as I mumbled, “It’s cold.”
A glance over at the hot tub told me that the bottoms to the suit were a lost cause at the moment. Chance could find them when he drained it.
“I’ll deal with it later. Let’s go.” And then his arm came around my shoulders in a move that shocked me almost as much as the incredible ass-fuck that had just happened.
This was the Chance that I had left, I thought as he then slid the door open for us, ref
using to move his arm off of me; he had a heart of gold, just like his sisters, only his was coated, covered, and protected by a kinky demanding asshole.
A combination that deserved an A for Addicting.
“I need to shower and go to bed,” I murmured, turning slightly against him; it was almost eleven. I hadn’t realized just how long we’d been out there. My extremities were probably a Level Five Prune right now.
“You want company?” He winked at me. I forgot to add that the kinky demanding asshole was sprinkled with insatiable.
“In the shower or in bed?” I shouldn’t be fueling the fire, but I was. I wanted to keep burning. For him, I wanted to fucking turn to ash.
“Both.”
Gulp. Oh, so tempting.
My eyes dropped for a second, looking for where I must have dropped my brain. “I think… we should both probably go to bed,” I managed to get out softly. “I have a lot to do in the morning.”
“Always so demanding.”
“Me?” I gasped.
“You always demand everything,” he rasped, his face coming closer to mine. “I only demand you.”
God, I was wet for so many reasons right now.
“Goodnight, Chance,” I murmured shakily.
His arm slid from my shoulder, fingers brushing against my chin and lifting my face back up to his.
“I’ll let you run tonight, but this isn’t over, J-bird,” he rasped with piercing blue eyes. My mouth dried up, parting just as he bent his lips to mine. “You know that was only hole number two.” Another brush from his mouth. “Next time, I’m coming for that pussy of yours.”
I quickly turned the small, strangled moan that escaped into a ‘goodnight’ and made for the stairs. He’d stolen my breath just as easily as he’d stolen my peace and my focus these past few weeks. I would have to add it to the ever-growing list of other things that he’d stolen from me over the years, claiming everything as his own.
My virginity. My dreams. My heart.
And he wasn’t done yet.
I WATCHED FROM DOWN IN the kitchen as Jessa woke up and moved back and forth between Ally’s room and the bathroom upstairs. It was pretty early and I had a good feeling that she thought I was still sleeping.
Not after last night.
After we came in, the snow started to cover the world in a cold blanket of white. Since my room was in the basement with a glass door that led outside, it had turned into a fucking freezer down there in under an hour. Great for freezing my balls into not thinking about anything—or anyone—else, which was all they wanted to do: think about the first time I’d fucked Jessa there… And every other time I’d fucked her there.
But it wasn’t so great for trying to get at least a few hours of shut-eye. So, I’d ended up on the couch—away from the cold and away from the recollections.
I poured the fresh coffee into a Florida mug that my parents had brought here for Christmas one year. Why? I couldn’t tell you; there were a thousand goddamn mugs in the cupboard. My mother had a serious problem.
I inhaled the caffeine. There was a slim chance that the smell of the freshly brewed coffee might give away that I was up already, but it was unlikely. Smiling to myself, I walked over to take a seat at the kitchen counter, only then noticing that the invitation to the Winter X Games (that Channing had competed in posing as me) still hung on the fridge. I ripped it down, crumbing it in my hand.
What a fucking waste.
A fire pit would have been preferable, but the trash can would have to do for now. I threw the piece of paper away and took a seat at the kitchen counter. This was exactly why I hadn’t come back here—the sense of everything about my past life, everything that I lost, enveloped me. Memories with my family—parents: gone, Channing: gone, Ally: gone. Not so bad if I’d had snowboarding to keep me company, but the closest I’d come to the sport since I moved back was throwing that damn paper away.
And all of this—all of this misery—I’d confided to her last night. I thought I’d be able to avoid it; I thought I’d be able to stick to something superficial. I should have known she’d draw the deeper truths out of me like sucking venom out of a snakebite.
I looked over at the trash. Even the moment of anger I felt throwing the damn invitation away was mild compared to what it would have been a month ago—hell, what it would have been a week ago.
Sitting down, I took a long sip of the black coffee and stared out into the snow that still fell outside. Sugar and cream were pointless additions in my opinion. My ears—and my pulse—perked up as I heard soft footsteps on the stairs. Yeah, she definitely thought I was still asleep downstairs.
She turned the corner into the kitchen. Seeing those silk PJs in the morning light was even worse than the first time and my dick swelled wanting what was underneath—wanting that last part of her.
“Morning there, J-bird.” I smirked as she practically jumped out of her skin.
Her hand came up to her forehead. “Oh my God. Seriously? You scared the shit out of me.”
My grin widened even more. “I made fresh coffee. How did you sleep?” Probably about as shitty as I did.
She didn’t take the bait though. Instead, she eyed me skeptically before grabbing herself a mug and pouring a giant cup of Joe.
“I was hoping it was a dream,” she groaned. She drank her coffee black, too.
“Last night? I’ll gladly take credit for making that dream come true.”
“No. Not that… that’s not what I meant.” She huffed, blowing on the coffee that was still steaming in her mug, holding it in front of her chest like some sort of caffeinated armor.
I smiled and watched her. This was new. We’d never woken up together able to sit in the kitchen and have coffee—not before and not even this past week either; she’d been up and out of the house before I even woke up—on purpose to avoid me.
The coffee aroma was finally starting to overwhelm the scent from Jessa’s candles that she insisted on lighting every night. The top layer of wax had still been melted when I’d come back downstairs after forcing myself not to burst through her door.
“Is that really everything that you own?” I nodded to two almost-empty boxes by the stairs.
“No, the rest is at my old apartment. I only brought over what I had at Tammy’s.”
“Do you need help with the rest?” There was hardly anything here, which meant that there must be
“A-are you offering?” There was no thrill hearing her question the honesty of my offer—and there should have been if I was trying to hurt her.
“For the right price,” I replied with a smile that was both sexy and suggestive.
“I’m sure that price will be too steep for me. But, if I’m really in a pinch, I’ll let you know,” she retorted, biting her lip. I caught her eye because we both knew she was in a pinch—we both were. And for a second, the years between us evaporated.
“No, I’m actually going to head over there—Shit…” she mumbled underneath her breath after glancing at the window—and the falling snow.
“What?”
“Nothing. I-I was just planning on getting the rest of my stuff today before they start tearing down my old apartment building or something ridiculous without telling me first.”
“Because of the mold?”
“Yeah.”
Before I even knew what I was doing, I offered, “I’ll drive you over there. I’m sure the roads are shit.” It really wasn’t an offer. It was a demand.
If possible, she looked even more shocked than she had when I’d appeared in the kitchen that night. At least she didn’t have a rolling pin this morning.
“It’s fine. I have my truck.”
She had another fucking thing coming if she thought I was going to let her drive out there alone in this weather.
“It wasn’t a question, J-bird,” I replied with a distinct edge to my voice. “If you want your shit, I’m taking you to get it.”
“I would think you would be happy to
see me stranded in the snow.” She clutched her mug with both hands, daring me to admit to some sort of genial feeling towards her.
“Oh, no, gorgeous,” I drained the rest of my mug and then put on a tight smile, “if Mother Nature wants to ruin you, she’s going to have to get in line.”
Not quite the answer she was hoping for, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit—to her or myself—that the thought of her going out in this weather—driving in this weather—alone turned my blood to ice.
“Chance, I know how to freaking—“
My cup slammed down on the granite countertop. “First off, you haven’t lived here in eight years—and where you were living doesn’t see snow too often. Second, it’s not even you I’m worried about. I’m worried about all the fucking transplants from California and the tourists from God knows where trying to drive in this weather because they think they can handle it.”
We were locked in a glaring contest, but I knew she would eventually give in. And a few seconds later, her head ducked and she took a defeated sip of her coffee.
“Fine. You can take me,” she murmured over the rim. “But I have two conditions.”
Did my girl really think that she was going to bargain with me now? This was my decision. My house. My rules.
On top of all that, she was mine. She was so goddamn mine and I was going to have her wound so fucking tight around my dick for as long as I fucking needed before I broke her.
And I was going to break her—her and her pink defiant hair, her throaty desirous laugh, and most of all her trusting and compassionate heart. I just wished I didn’t need to keep reminding the rebellious part of me that wanted to keep her of that.
“First, I want your word that you will not make any sexual innuendos while we do this.”
“Pretty sure you like how those turn you on, J-bird…” Her lips pursed and I knew that was exactly the problem.
“Second, you have to talk to me.”
“About what?” I frowned. “We talked last night.”
“Whatever I decide.”
My fingers strummed on the countertop; I didn’t have to do anything. The part of me that raged against her and everything that happened to me screamed for me to tell her ‘fuck that’ and not give her any other option anyway. The other part of me that belonged in this house, that would do anything for my sisters or my family, that had spent hours dreaming about the vibrant vixen standing in front of me before I’d even had the courage to go talk to her, the part of me that admired everything about the woman she had become in spite of what she’d done to me—that was the part of me that was too strong to control.
The Winter Games Box Set Page 91