The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  That was what happened when you got involved with crazy people: they take you down with them.

  I cleared my throat and asked what Jac and I were both wondering, “What’s going to happen to her?”

  He took a moment, unsure if he should be telling us how this was going to play out when the incident had just happened a few hours ago.

  “She’s being held without bail, so you don’t have to worry about a repeat attempt being made anytime soon. She hasn’t been… very forthcoming… but it’s only a matter of time. We have the photos and your statement along with Mr. Pyle’s, so she’s going away whether she wants to talk to us or not.”

  “To jail?” Jac interjected.

  He flipped his notebook closed and tucked it back into the pocket of his uniform.

  “Depends on what she tries to plead. If her lawyer is worth anything, attempting a plea of not-guilty for any other reason than insanity is probably not going to go very far. Based on what I know… what I’ve seen… I think that’s what would be best for everyone involved, for her to plead insanity. There’s obviously something not right with her. Jail is one thing, but what she really needs is help.”

  Jac nodded, appearing to be satisfied by his answer.

  “Alright, well thank you for your time. We’ll follow up if we have any further questions or if you’re needed at any point in court.” He tipped his head to the both of us. “Feel better, Mr. Masters. Ms. Blanchard.”

  When the door clicked shut behind him, I turned to my girl and asked, “You really want her to go to a psych ward instead of prison?”

  She turned to face me and her eyes flashed for a second before she replied, “The jury is still out.”

  “Come here,” I demanded, needing to kiss her so fucking bad.

  She had one leg up on the bed, careful not to dislodge anything that might bump my shoulder, when the door to my room opened again. My body was about to ask Detective Remington to arrest anyone else who tried to enter this room. I just needed to hold her, if just for one minute.

  “Mr. Masters.” The nurse, Nancy, who’d been in and out of the room over the past two hours, popped her head through the door, taking stock of the now-empty space before entering. “How are you doing? Are you doing okay?”

  I hoped she didn’t hear the growl that rumbled from my chest. I was okay. I was not going to be okay if I didn’t get a moment alone with my girl. I’d been stabbed. Jac had saved me. I needed a fucking minute—or a few fucking days—alone with her to make sure that she knew that this was for keeps.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I said, still forcing a kind smile up my face since she was only doing her job.

  “Good.” She grabbed the clipboard that sat in a little bin on the wall and noted a few things. “Because I’m happy to tell you that you are free to go.”

  Now, the smile became real.

  It took maybe another ten minutes, most of that absorbed with the nurse checking my bandages one last time.

  Between the two of them, they helped me into my jacket that had seen better days, now was torn and stained with blood on the back. My last parting gift was a sling to rest my arm in to keep it stable.

  We made it to the entrance of the hospital before I turned to Jac and asked, “How are we getting home?”

  She reached in her pocket and held up my truck keys with a grin. “Shawn drove it over.”

  “You sure you can drive my truck?” I teased her, sucking in a breath as the cold air wormed right through my jacket hole and iced my wound.

  It wasn’t manual or anything, just really big.

  I swore her eye roll was more medal-worthy than her skiing.

  “Oh, I can drive your truck, Charming,” she snorted, adding underneath her breath. “Now, if it was a white horse, that would be a different story.”

  I MANAGED TO GET US back to his building without incident. I wasn’t used to driving such a large truck, but I couldn’t say I didn’t like it. In spite of his protests to leave it, I carried his bag and my gear up to the apartment.

  Holding the door open with my leg, I let him walk inside first before I took my cargo inside and set everything down along the back of the couch.

  My spine prickled and I whipped around as soon as I heard his muffled groan that led into a curse.

  He was trying to take his jacket off by himself. Not a big deal if he hadn’t been stabbed earlier today.

  Men.

  “What the hell—let me help you,” I insisted and I pushed his hand away and carefully loosened the sling from around his neck.

  “I got it.” He tried to pull away, wincing when it tugged on his stitches.

  “Now who’s the one being stubborn?” I retorted, ignoring his glare as I carefully helped him out of his jacket. “You have ten stitches in your shoulder. Let me help you with your jacket. If this is going to work, not only are you going to have to let the princess take care of herself sometimes, but you’re also going to have to let her take care of you.”

  I didn’t know what it was about that sentence that did the trick—maybe hearing that I wanted to take care of him, maybe the future implied in the phrase—but everything except his heady gaze relaxed as he let me carefully slide the coat from his broad shoulders.

  My squeal barely escaped my lips before my body was yanked against his and his lips were on top of mine.

  “You can’t do that,” I protested against his mouth even as my arms twined around his neck. “Your shoulder…”

  “Doesn’t hurt when you kiss me, Cinderella, so don’t stop.”

  My small whimper was drowned out by the hard slant of his lips over mine as his tongue dragged inside them. Days was too long without this. Minutes, too.

  I sagged against him with everything that I’d been holding together from the moment I saw Andrea coming at him with a knife—the moment when I thought I might lose him, that I might lose this.

  In that moment I realized losing him was far more frightening than losing myself.

  According to Evan, I wasn’t girly enough. I was useless in social situations. I worked out too much and looked too muscular to be a woman. According to Evan, I should have paid less attention to skiing and more attention to the man who was cheating on me anyway. According to Evan, nothing I ever did was right.

  But according to Kyle, I was beautiful. Irresistible. I was passionate and determined. I was a princess and a warrior. According to Kyle, I was worth every ounce of effort to win because I was everything he ever wanted.

  “I’m sorry, Jac,” he murmured against my lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait before going to talk to Jackson—before asking him for help.”

  I shook my head frantically, my nose brushing lightly against his in the process.

  “Don’t apologize,” I said thickly. “I should’ve listened to you, and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I was shocked, and I’d just had the conversation with Marissa about her brother that I’ve dreaded having since the moment he died. And going back there… revisiting him, and how he’d treated me… the person I’d let myself become because of him… all I could hear was that you put your needs above mine, like Evan always did.”

  “You know I would never—”

  “I know,” I broke in, letting my hand drop down to his chest and curl into his shirt. “That’s the thing. I do know you. I know the kind of man you are. I know you would’ve never done something unless you were more than one-hundred percent sure that my life was on the line. I’m sorry I doubted myself, and what I knew was true.”

  He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, as though they’d gone too long being apart from mine.

  “You know I respect the hell out of you, Jac, and your decisions.”

  “I know,” I breathed out, my lungs too full of relief and happiness to be contained. “But sometimes my decisions are wrong.”

  “Like letting a stranger drive you home from a bar?” he teased with a rasped voice.

  “Please,” I scoffed. “The Prince Charming lo
go was far flashier than the Abercrombie one on your shirt.”

  Our light laughter melded in the space between us, enveloping us in warmth and need and love as his lips covered mine once more.

  Warm, salty tears leaked in between our mouths that felt like they would stay fused forever. I saved him, but I kissed him because his love saved me, too.

  He growled and devoured my mouth—and I let him. I let him own my desire because giving in to him drove me insane, my body vibrating with nerves and need.

  The hand on his uninjured side worked down until it was gripped hard into my ass, holding my hips tight against his. Instinctively, I rocked against him, needing that friction that was growing between us and pushing right on my core.

  I lost my mind when it came to him.

  I lost my heart, too.

  Turned out, losing those things was okay when it was to a person who would take care of them even better than you imagine they deserve.

  I convinced myself that loving someone was what made me weak; it was what made me change who I was to please him, it was what made me feel guilty about pursuing my dream, it was what made me susceptible to being hurt and broken.

  But it was only loving the wrong person that made you weak.

  Loving the right person makes you stronger than you ever thought possible.

  “Kyle,” I murmured against his mouth, hating myself for needing to pull away but not wanting to end up back at the hospital tonight to have his stitches replaced. “We can’t…”

  He groaned against my mouth in protest, but I stayed firm—just like he was against my stomach.

  “Then just let me hold you, Jac,” he pleaded and I couldn’t say no. More importantly, I didn’t want to.

  Reaching for his hand, I pulled it off my ass, threaded my fingers through his beautifully possessive ones, and led him back to the bedroom. In a silence that was heavy with love—the kind that needs the closest of contact in order to speak, I helped him out of his clothes before discarding mine into a pile on the floor.

  He slid onto the bed, carefully resting his back against the plain black headboard, and waited for me to join him.

  Christ.

  Even wounded and bandaged, it was unreal for someone to be that good looking. All carved muscle laid out on display. It made my body tingle. But knowing he was all mine? That made heat surge in my core, aching to explode.

  When I went to climb over him, his hands on my waist stopped me, leaving me with my core straddled over his hard length.

  “I need you,” he rasped and my breath caught in my chest.

  I needed him too.

  Leaning forward, I fused my mouth with his, our kiss refusing its ferocity from out in the living room. I need him because I’d almost lost him. In that split second when I saw Andrea going for him, there was the potential that wherever she struck him would be enough to kill him.

  I shuddered and he pulled me tighter against him, his tongue working magic against mine as I began to rock my hips and slide my slick desire up and down his thickening cock.

  I refused to think about it all afternoon—his almost dying—because it hadn’t happened. He was alive. He was going to be okay. But now, when the danger and the cameras and the crowd was gone and there was only just the two of us, the stress of that one single second on my heart won out and all I wanted to do was both cry and fuck him in equal measure.

  “I need you inside me.” My voice was thick with tears that had begun to spill over. “I need to know you’re here and that this isn’t a dream. I was so afraid…”

  His growl was the fiercely possessive one, the one that ripped right through my sadness, scooped up my aching heart, and held it tight to him to let me know he was here and never letting go.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and the next second, using his good arm, he turned us to the side until my back was on the mattress.

  “I’m here, Jac. I’m here, Princess…” he promised to my mouth.

  I let out a small cry, arching my hips as he angled his. And then he was inside me. Long and hard, my body rocked back at the invasion. His body claimed mine and pushed out all the hurt and fear I’d bottled inside. I’d been strong all day. I’d fought all day for everything about this man. And now, I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I just wanted to love him and be loved by him and let that be enough.

  I moaned even as tears slipped down my cheeks—little capsules of the bad I tried to hide from everyone. But not Kyle. He kissed my mouth, he kissed my tears. He took possession of all the jagged parts of me, good and bad, and showed me that the whole was stronger than armored halves.

  He pushed up so that there was no weight on his upper body. Holding my knees wide, he drove into my furiously, both of us searching for the safety and release of each other after everything that happened today.

  My back bowed as he slammed into me harder. Coiling and clenching, my body began to fracture around him. Even with my eyes squeezed shut, tears slipped from them, now mostly from the exquisite pleasure that was building inside me like an avalanche. His hand delved between us, tracing down my quivering stomach, over my sex that was full of him, until his fingers settled on my swollen clit.

  From there, the steps to heaven were short and sweet. His name tore from my lips like it was both victory and defeat as my body shattered into a million tiny snowflakes, each one exquisitely beautiful but different—different but still marked with him.

  Drawn over the edge with me, I felt his cock swell inside me before he exploded with a roar. The warmth of his release filling me—completing me.

  I gasped for air as my body completely melted around him—in pleasure, in safety, and in love.

  With a hiss, he slid out of me. In a daze, I watched as he walked into the bathroom, his still thick erection bobbing along the way. I should be taking care of him, I thought when he returned to clean us both. I shouldn’t be putting weight on him, I thought as he climbed back in beside me, pulling me on top of his good arm to rest on his chest while the fingers on his injured arm traced lazily along the edge of my ribs right up underneath my breast.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” I murmured.

  “Oh, we definitely should have,” he chuckled with a low voice. “And I’m pretty sure we’re going to do it again soon.”

  I didn’t say anything to agree, but my nipples hardened which was enough answer for him.

  “I was so scared,” I whispered, emotion turning my voice into molasses. “I thought she would… I thought I wasn’t going to make it—”

  He silenced me with another kiss, gently shushing my lips with his.

  “I’m here. I’m okay. And it’s because of you, Jac; you saved me,” he rasped, pressing small kisses along my jaw, cheek, and any area of skin that he could reach aside from my mouth. “You’re so incredible. No. Not incredible. More than that. You’re kind and strong and completely badass. My own warrior Princess.”

  A watery laugh escaped my lips as my heart thudded happily against his chest. “Well, sometimes, it’s Prince Charming who needs to be saved.”

  His hand traced up my sternum to rest gently underneath my chin and tip my face up to his. “If it means I get to end up here, with you, I’ll let you save me any day.” His thumb brushed over my lower lip. “Although, if we could nix the whole knife part, that would be great. Maybe you could stick to saving me from complete Star Wars ignorance or a juicing attempt gone wrong.”

  I laughed harder now and whatever traces that lingered from the stress of the day washed away with the sound.

  “I love you,” I blurted out again with the hugest smile on my face. The way his eyes darkened and sparkled made my heart want to jump and scream and shout—kind of like it did every time I knew I won the gold, but this time only more.

  “Jac, I—”

  I kissed him to cut him off.

  “I’m not done,” I told him as my voice wavered slightly. If I wasn’t good at listening to my feelings, I sure as shit wasn’t good a
t talking about them—but I needed to. I needed him to know what I felt because I knew it would take time for me to get good at showing it.

  “Kyle,” I continued softly as I placed one palm on his chest. “I thought I reached the peak of everything I could ever want. I thought I reached it years ago. I was the King—Queen of the mountain and I thought all that was left for me to do was keep anyone from getting close enough to take my crown. And then I met you.” I swallowed hard. “And you…”

  “Took you down?” he said hoarsely with a quick slight grin, his hand returned to my waist to rub soothingly over the skin.

  His words tugged a smile to my lips, always managing to make me comfortable even in the situations that stretched me.

  “No,” I began again, my tongue darting out over my bottom lip, my eyes dropping for a second before they returned to his. “You didn’t take me down. You took me over the top, Kyle. You took me to a place I didn’t know existed—or if I did, I didn’t believe existed for me.”

  My breath felt like it was driving over a gravel road to get down into my lungs—unsteady, but determined to get to its destination.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fought it for so long and I’m sorry for how I treated you the other night.” I felt the tears brewing again. “I’m sorry I pushed you away…”

  “What are you trying to say, Cinderella?” he choked out.

  I cupped my hands on either side of his face, feeling his fingers tighten on my hips and his breathing falter.

  “I’m saying that the happily-ever-after that I didn’t think was possible, is possible with you… because of you. I’m saying that you’re my Prince Charming, Kyle.”

  “You sure, Jac?” he asked softly. “You know that means I get to save you, too, right? It’s in the fucking manual.”

  A smile and a laugh broke free from my body.

  He continued, “Along with holding doors, carrying all your shit, kissing away your tears, celebrating your dreams, and making you come at least twice a day.”

  “Oh yeah? Twice a day? They put that in the Disney Prince’s Manual, did they?” I retorted with an eye roll.