The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  “N-nothing.” I set my glass down before it became one more mess that I had to clean up.

  The step he took closed the distance between us. “Don’t fucking lie to me, J-bird.”

  I swallowed, letting my gaze fall to the solid wall of chest in front of me, his muscles rising and falling like mountains underneath his skin. As though I was watching a movie, I saw my hand come up, tracing along the hard, heated dip down the center.

  Chance hissed like a pressure-valve was being slowly opened inside of him.

  “I need to talk to you,” I whispered.

  “About what?” His voice rasped. I could see his erection now pressing out distinctly against his pants. If I just—

  I sucked in a breath as my hips swayed forward, just brushing against him. Later, I would blame it on the alcohol.

  Slowly, my eyes made their way back to his. “I-I need to talk to you,” I gulped, “about Frost.”

  His body was already hard. My words turned it to stone.

  I stepped back, trying to put some distance between the bad decision that I wanted to make.

  “Don’t,” he growled, stalking after me.

  My hands came up as I got to the end of my retreat—the half-wall and bannister against my back. My hands gripped the rungs behind me as though I were on the wrong side of a jail cell, desperate to get in instead of to get out.

  My head shook mindlessly as his one hand held onto a rung next to my face, the other gripping my chin, forcing my movements to a halt.

  So, with wet cheeks and a wobbly voice, I begged, “I have to, Chance. I have to—“ His mouth swallowed the rest of my statement.

  He punished me for speaking, for mentioning Frost, for mentioning the past. His mouth punished me and I begged for more.

  I was crushed to him. And by him. And by my guilt.

  What if I had done the wrong thing?

  Everything with Chance only felt right. What if I’d thrown it all away for nothing?

  “You are mine.” He bit the words into my lip. “I never want to be reminded of the fact that that fucker touched you. That he touched what’s mine.” His knee wedged between my legs, pressing greedily against the part of me that ached to be his.

  For a second, I let myself get lost in the kiss that followed—punishing in its possessiveness. Demanding in its desire.

  And then the sweet saltiness I tasted on my tongue was like adding salt to an open wound. Necessary for healing. Beyond painful.

  Just like the truth.

  Lovers: Perfection and harmony. This card represents a very strong sexual connection that goes beyond lust, that suggests a very deep desire and passion between two whose bond is reflective of a soulmate connection.

  “WE CAN’T DO THIS.” I tore my lips from his—the sensation like ripping off an oxygen mask underwater, reality flooding my lungs. “I can’t do this. I need to talk to you.”

  I was still pinned to the wall, his knee between my thighs, but I couldn’t stay here. This couldn’t happen like this.

  Hands on his chest, I pushed. Hard.

  He moved back, but only slightly. “Don’t do this, Jessa. We both want this,” he rasped. His face was tortured with desire. “We both need this. Don’t fucking drag Frost back between us. Don’t.”

  I shook my head frantically, using the small space that had opened up to duck underneath his arm.

  “No, Chance.” I shook my head. It was so foggy, but he didn’t understand what I meant. “I need… to talk to you… first.”

  Icy anger glazed over his eyes. And I understood. He thought I’d cheated on him. He thought that I hadn’t wanted him. He wanted me, but he didn’t want to remember that the last time he’d wanted me it had cost him his pride—on so many levels. I had been his downfall.

  And he had been mine.

  But he didn’t know that.

  It was the finely veiled layer of sweetness over the sneer in his tone that told me I shouldn’t have approached this subject without full-on body armor and an eight-foot shield.

  Instead, I had a cotton romper and an unquenchable desire as my defense. “What’s the matter, J-bird? Feeling guilty? Or do you just need to tell me that you still prefer the taste of Frost?” Chance demanded. He was determined, I would give him that, determined to cut me as he pulled every last shard of my broken heart from my chest.

  The way I gripped the rungs of the bannister I’m surprised I didn’t snap one off; my knuckles were probably whiter than snow. But they needed to be in order to hold me up because his words had cut my legs right out from underneath me.

  I stood there and took it because, after eight years, I deserved to hear these words spoken to my face.

  But they weren’t enough.

  The man I’d broken continued, vehemence dripping from each syllable.

  “Is that it then? I’m good, but not good enough? Was it always Frost? I want to know,” he laughed harshly, “were you always just trying to get his attention? Did you ever love me?”

  Now, like my cheeks had been coated with Rain-X, tears slipped down them easily. Every fear, every thought that had ever crossed my mind before and after what I’d done came raging back—an army of accusations attacking an already faltering heart.

  Somehow, I manage to look at him. Him with his strong, proud jaw, the right-side twitching as his perfect teeth that were made to smile, clenched with an expression far more sinister.

  “How long were you fucking him while you were with me?”

  The last straw. The damn broke inside of me and the truth angrily, unattractively, and hysterically poured out of me.

  “Don’t.” I rasped, my tongue darting out to lick my dry, cracked lips. My outburst was fueled by self-loathing rather than self-vindication. The truth changed nothing, in my mind. I had still cheated. I had still kissed his best friend—whatever my reasons. And he could hate me for that. But I refused to let him hate me for wanting Nick or for thinking that I’d slept with him. “I was never trying to get his attention. It was never about him. You want to know why I kissed Nick that one time? Because. Of. You. Because you were going to come with me to Texas.”

  I barely caught his eyes narrowing as my tears overflowed my eyes. I didn’t care that I looked like a crazy lady with bright pink hair, ranting hysterically.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Jessa? Of course I was fucking coming with you. Did you not want me to? You should have just broken up with me then.”

  I choked on my own laugh. Damn, I hated how this man could make me cry.

  “Would you have believed me? If I tried to break up with you? Because I sure as shit wouldn’t have. I loved you, Chance. And I did want you to come with me. That was the whole fucking problem.”

  “You are making absolutely no sense, Jessa.” His hands were on my shoulders now, shaking me slightly as he spoke; I realized then that I was sobbing in between my words.

  “I couldn’t –I wouldn’t—be responsible for ruining your dream!” Air. Breathe. Words. “I couldn’t be the one responsible for taking you away from the mountain. Years, Chance. It would have been years in Texas and even if you came up here during the season, would that have been enough to accomplish your dreams? No, it wouldn’t.” Full-blown rant-mode was engaged. “I knew how much snowboarding meant to you and I wouldn’t take that away. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

  It was only when his hands cupped my cheeks that I realized I’d been shaking my head again.

  His thumbs wiped my tears, my lip quivered like the string of a bow as everything I’d held tight inside for so long shot out of me like an arrow. And I prayed that it fucking hit his heart.

  “So, I did the only thing I could think of to make sure you wouldn’t want to ever be with me, let alone move—and that was to kiss Nick. H-he didn’t know that’s what I was planning. All I knew was that the way I felt about you meant that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of convincing you that I wanted to break up; all I knew was that w
hatever was between us was one of those all-or-none things in life. And if it couldn’t be all, it had to be none.”

  Staring up into his blue eyes I bit my lip so that it would stop shaking.

  “I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t… We couldn’t… without you knowing.” Silence screamed, so I begged, “Say something, please.”

  “So, you kissed Frost because you thought I would be giving up my dream for you and that was a mistake?”

  I sucked in a shaky breath, trying not to sob again, and nodded.

  “You thought I’d come to resent you for it?” His words became stiffer, as though they were becoming harder and harder to say. “Because you didn’t mean more to me than snowboarding; because you weren’t worth more to me than my dream.”

  Tears for truth. Hearing those words from his mouth, knowing that he finally knew the truth about what happened… I finally realized the weight it had been on my chest over all of these years.

  I nodded and whispered, “I’m sorry, Chance.” My eyes fell and I went to pull back again. My job was done. He knew what happened. Whatever happened now, at least there was no longer this weight sitting on my heart.

  His fingers gripped my chin, tipping my head up to his. He wasn’t done with me yet. I gulped as his face descended to mine.

  “You know what, J-bird? I’m sorry, too.” I shivered at the chill in his voice. “Because you are so fucking wrong.” My breath caught in my throat, mentally preparing for literally anything to come out of his mouth next.

  “I wasn’t giving up on my dream by moving to Texas; I was following it.” The world stopped. “You were my dream, Jessa, and I’m not ready to fucking wake up yet.”

  Words that should have been tender were uttered with a fierce anger at their painful truth; they touched my heart and ravaged it at the same time. I shuddered at what was coming next, but I whatever it was, I needed it.

  Whether this was a dream or a nightmare, the Chance in front of me crushed his mouth to mine and I didn’t care what world I was living in any longer; he was my reality.

  Time didn’t stand still for this. No, this kiss turned back the clock. I loved him just as much—if not more—than the day that I left him.

  Buttons popped and showered the floor as he ripped my practical cotton pajamas right down the front. The fabric slipped smoothly off my body, leaving me completely naked—tattoos and all.

  “Tell me what you want, J-bird.” Those sapphires flickered dangerously at me—dark and angry, but with an intensity that had my sex dripping juices down my thigh.

  “A-are you going to fuck me now?” I ask instead, suddenly frantic to know what he is going to do.

  “Is that what you want?” Anger and satisfaction shone brightly in his face. “Are you hungry for my cock?” He laughs. “You’re always fucking starving for me. I know your pussy is salivating for me—just like it did the other day. So fucking hungry…”

  I moaned at his filthy assumptions, feeling like I was being steamrolled by my desire. Chance’s words made me wild; they made me hot; they mixed with the anger and betrayal and regret that seemed to be at the very essence of our relationship right now and set it all ablaze.

  “P-please, Chance,” I begged. “I want you to fuck me. You’re right. My pussy is starving for you.”

  I was the perfect picture of desperation. Naked. Dripping. And begging him for his cock. But I was only this for him; I’d only ever been this for him.

  His restraint snapped and he was flush up against me again. The franticness of my breathing was now obvious as my tits slammed against his chest. I breathed deeply. He smelled like my candle—eucalyptus, evergreen, and mountain—and I moaned; Chance felt so right against me. There may be so many things wrong with me… with us… with this situation, but all the wrong words melted like sugar in my mouth.

  My hips rolled against his, pushing my sex against the ridge of his cock that jutted out in his sweats. I slid easily against the fabric because I was so drenched.

  He blew a breath against my neck, suffering just as much as me from the contact, before I was lifted, my legs barely making it around his waist before I felt the cool hardwood against my back.

  We were on the floor.

  My legs fell open as he lay between them, sliding off to one side so his hand could cover my breast. I gasped as he pinched my nipple. “I swear I’m going to fuck your tits one of these days and cover them with my cum—that’s how much I love them.” I whimpered as he kneaded my flesh, pulling repeatedly on my nipple. “Almost as much,” he rasped as his hand slid down over my stomach, “as I love your pussy.”

  I cried out at the first touch of his finger between my folds, rewarded as he let a single, solitary finger slip inside of me. In and out. Slowly. Painfully slowly. He did it on purpose. He wanted to make it hurt. But I knew the pain would only make it feel so good.

  “Please, Chance…” I knew my body was convulsing around him, begging for release.

  “I’ve imagined this so many times, J-bird,” he whispered in my ear, his calmness in the midst of my storm really beginning to frustrate me, “being back inside of you—stretching this tight hole of yours so fucking wide.” He chuckled as though he was the only one who had an idea of what kind of stretching my hole was in for.

  “Chance!” I gasped, my hips jerking against his hand. My pelvic bone brushed over his hardness.

  His angry growl erupted through space as he slipped his finger out of me. My legs slipped to the side as he jerked up onto his knees before rising to stand, stormy sapphires glinting down at my flushed naked body.

  My tits hardened even more and I could feel the blood pumping through the very tips of my nipples.

  “Tell me that you want me, J-bird,” he rasped. I hoped that my drool—from either ends of my body—wasn’t that obvious; I had a feeling that was wishful thinking. “Tell me you want me and I promise that every inch of your body knows that it fucking belongs to me as I fill it with my cum.”

  God, he was so dirty. Dirtier than I remembered. But maybe I was too.

  I groaned. Or gasped. Something incoherent definitely left my mouth. Dammit. Maybe I should be grossed out, the words were filthy—but they set me on fire and my sex wept underneath his eyes.

  I stared at the man who had once been the boy that I’d loved. Impossibly gorgeous, half-naked. My eyes trailed over his chest that shimmered with the fine sheen of sweat—a gloss over every hard line and muscle. His gaze dropped lower and so did mine, finding the edge of his sweats that rode low on his hips, revealing that V-cut… I drew blood from my lip as my gaze followed just where that V went; the ominous tent in the front of his pants where his erection hung long and heavy against the thin gray fabric; they splotched almost black where my juices had soaked into them.

  And then he grabbed himself and began stroking his arousal through his sweats.

  “Tell. Me. Now.”

  God. Oh, God. I moaned while biting my lower lip. Wasn’t it obvious?

  My sex squeezed and I felt my desire leak down along the crevice of my ass. My pussy wanted him inside of me like a fat kid wants cake.

  “I want you, Chance,” I panted. “I never stopped.”

  “Fucking Christ.” He swore—but I was the one who lost my breath when his sweats slipped to the floor.

  He stood naked and I let out a groan from the deepest part of my chest.

  I should have known this. I should have been prepared. I’d had the thing down my throat and in my ass. But both memories now blurred in front of this.

  Nothing about this was blurry. The long, thick shaft thrusting out of his body. I licked my swollen lips watching the way the blunt, purple tip twitched for the desire that seeped from my core.

  Fitting that inside of me was like the Christmas miracle of Santa being able to fit his fat ass down a chimney.

  He dropped to his knees and the therapist in me winced at the minor damage he probably just caused to his kneecaps. Reaching for his discarded sweats, he pulled o
ut a condom and rolled it down his length.

  They made condoms to fit something so large? Was all I could think as my mouth dried out.

  My body stilled as he covered it with his own. Skin to skin. Our chests moved in sync. He was crushing me and the pressure of it mimicked the pressure building inside of my sex. His cock throbbed, tucked between us against my stomach. So close.

  Chance rocked his hips against me at the thought, pressing his heavy arousal into my tummy. I swallowed a groan as he began to tease my nipple, pinching the soft peak until I was afraid I was going to come without him.

  My body was being torn apart at the seams. The release of the past, the release of the truth, all that was left was the release that begged to be had from every cell in my body.

  His lips trailed along my jawline over to my ear, every touch sparking though my body like a live-wire that had been split open.

  “Please, Chance…” I cried. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I was going crazy. No, I was already crazy—and there was no going back.

  He reared up onto his hands above me. His face was as hard as granite. I glimpsed every taut muscle of his body, shimmering with sweat, straining towards what was about to happen. Looked like I wasn’t the only one losing control. And then I stopped breathing altogether.

  He fisted his cock, rubbing it up and down my slit before tucking it at my entrance.

  “Let me fucking feed you.” His growl turned into a long grunt as he forced his way inside.

  My back arched off the floor. My shoulders dug into the unforgiving wood and my body immediately tightened against the invasion of his cock.

  “Fuck…” The curse rips out of him long and painful as my nails score down his back.

  It hurt. It more than hurt. My sex had been as wet as a category five hurricane and still it was so fucking painful. I swear, he wasn’t just trying to squeeze into my sex, he was trying to shove his cock into every last cell of my body the way that the stinging pain seemed to explode through every nucleus. I didn’t remember it hurting like this before.

  I didn’t remember him being this large before.