by Eva Luxe
I push the tips of my poles into the snow, gaining a bit of speed. Enough to finish out the slope gracefully, and so that Jane isn’t having to talk with me lagging behind. “Well, thank you.” I give myself another smaller push. This one brings me out in front of her, just as the slope levels out. “And I’ve decided something else.”
Jane sinks the ends of her poles into the snow, bring herself to a graceful stop. I do as well, but with a bit of my ski. “Oh, really?” She gives me a mischievous grin. One I’ve seen her use with guys she likes toying with. “And what else have you decided?”
“I’ve decided that I’m going to stop being the good girl,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “I’m going to do what I want for a change, not just what everyone else wants.” I rest myself on my ski poles. “I’m ready to do some new and exciting things! Whatever those things may be.”
Jane looks legitimately happy at my declaration of independence. “Way to go, babe!” She yips exuberantly, catching the attention of some nearby skiers, but that doesn’t stop her from being loud and proud. “See? I knew you had a wild streak in you, Mariah.”
She leans in, bringing me around with her. Together, we come completely off the slope, and head toward a less-traveled area. “So,” she says under her breath, “When you say you’re ready to do some ‘new and exciting things,’ does this include losing your virginity?”
I blush, embarrassed, but not surprised, that Jane’s taken it here. She’s been on me about my virginity for the last year, like it’s hers to lose. “I’m not against it,” I say. I laugh, feeling my cheeks begin to burn. “I just, you know, thought I would wait for the right guy.”
I hazard a look at my friend, not at the snow piled up around me. I can just see her face in the small square of electric light pouring out from the nearest corner of the lodge. She raises her eyebrow at me in a gesture that says, “Girl, you’re gonna be waiting forever that way.”
“But I guess I did just say ‘new and exciting,’ so…” Almost immediately, my mind is swarmed by images of strong guys coasting down ski slopes; soft, but strong older guys offering me hot cocoa; smart and witty instructor-types, giving me tips on how to tackle the bigger, harder slopes. With their bigger, harder packages caressing the back of me as they give me the layout of the course. “So, it might be great to just take a plunge, you know?” My eyes meet Jane’s. It’s clear she approves. It’s also clear she has an idea of where my mind went. “Just have an experience with whomever is out there and available, you know?”
“‘Out there and available’ huh?” The suddenness of the male voice that answers me — the deepness of it – surprises me. The maturity I can hear humming in each sound makes me twirl around on my skis. It must have the same effect on Jane, because she’s twirling around too.
If not for the polls, I might’ve fallen at the beautiful sight coming at me from the covered porch of the lodge. It’s a tall, strong-shouldered man. Even from here I can see his broad chest, finely-molded cheekbones, leading down to a soft but well-defined jaw.
But what really gets me are his eyes. They remind me of a Jaguar’s, just like my favorite actor. The one I masturbated to.
“Well, ladies” — the handsome stranger says ladies, but his eyes quickly lock on to me and stay there, as if seeking something — “we’re out here, and available for some fun, if you’d like to have it.”
I blush, feeling like he’s just pulled away the wall on my thoughts, and now he’s somehow watching my fantasy of getting done doggy style by someone like him.
He smiles the same smile as my favorite actor. A wicked curl on one side of his mouth. Then he says, “You did quite a lot of skiing out there, miss. Quite the natural.”
I look away from his eyes, feeling melted by his words. In contrast to the cold snow and brittle wind, they are like lava slowly burning its way to my center. “T-thank you,” I say, trying not to show how hot I’ve become. “I’m a little out of practice.” Tentatively, I meet his gaze, which hasn’t moved an inch from me.
In a way that turns my stomach into warm, gooey marshmallows, he says, “Oh, so this isn’t your first time, then?”
Heat streaks on to my face as he says “first time,” but I mentally scold myself into not imagining anything about the way his body might feel against mine, or how much of my breasts he could fit in one hand. “No,” I say, working to keep the quiver from my voice. “I just don’t get out skiing much.”
“Oh?” His eyes travel down my ski jacket, but he might as well be looking through that to my bra. An actually cute one, which Jane insisted I wear today. “Why’s that?”
“Studying,” says Jane. “I was lucky to even get her out this far. Usually she won’t do anything, unless it has to do with one of her classes.”
“Well, then maybe the two of you would be interested in some fun with us before getting back to your studies?” It isn’t Mr. Jaguar-Eyes who speaks this time, but one of the guys with him. Someone who looks like he could be his younger brother. Still tall, but slightly shorter. Same dark eyes and hair, but not nearly as ruggedly handsome. More puppy dog like. “I’m sorry my brother was so rude to not invite you sooner.”
“Yeah, a couple of hot babes like yourselves could really go for some good food and drink after all that shredding, right?” The third wheel of this man-pack is definitely not interesting to me. I can smell the cigarette smoke on him, taste the video game addiction on him. Plus, he’s wearing a baseball cap backwards, which is not my thing at all. He’s clearly the younger, more fun one they hang out with, when they’re not doing serious things like making a lot of money, or whatever.
The obviously slightly younger brother steps back in, practically knocking over his baseball-cap-wearing friend. “What my friend here means to say, is that we would love to have you join us for dinner. Food and drinks are on us, if you’d like to come.” He points to himself. “I’m Alex” — he points back to the friend he interrupted — “that’s Jordan, and he is—”
Mr. Jaguar-Eyes takes my hand warmly, and kisses it. “I’m Paul.”
Even through my ski gloves, his lips melt my fingers down to the bone. Again, it’s my ski poles that keep me upright. Keep me from turning into a puddle. “Mariah,” I say, surprised this gorgeous guy hasn’t made me forget my name entirely.
“Mariah.” Paul’s eyes aren’t the only thing like a Jaguar. His voice is too. It practically purrs my name. “That name is beautiful, just like you.” A thoughtful pause. “So, would you and your friend care to join me — us — for a little dinner, drinks and fun?”
As he speaks, I’m trying desperately to look away, to keep his golden-brown eyes from melting my heart and the clothes straight off my body, but nothing I do works. He just keeps commanding my attention. Silently. Urgently. And this makes my pussy begin to flinch. Quiver.
I’m just about to say “yes,” when Jane answers for me.
“No.” My friend’s answer shocks me. I thought for sure she would be the first one to jump on the proverbial boat of sexy. Both me and Paul are shocked. Jane straightens her shoulders and continues, “Mariah and I were planning to go down one more slope before they close for the night, so we can’t go.”
We were planning to do no such thing, but I can’t get up the courage or the nerve to confront her.
Paul looks saddened. “Oh,” he says. “I see.” He lets go of my hand, and backs up. “Well, maybe I’ll catch up with you some other time then, Mariah.” My heart aches seeing the light leave his eyes. And that little mischievous smirk? It’s a frown now. “Have fun skiing.” With that, he turns and walks away.
Justin — Jordan — whatever his name is, follows after, wasting no time in doing some acrobatics to get up on the porch again.
Alex, the brother, is the only one left. He approaches us quietly, handing me a small businesslike card. “Well, if you change your mind, this is where we’ll be.” I take the card, and thank him. He gives me a little grin, though it’s nowhere near as se
xy as his brother’s. “It’s gonna be quite the party,” he says, and walks away.
Chapter 6 – Mariah
“What the hell was that?” I ask, when the guys are completely gone. It has started to snow, but I’m not cold. I’m hot and wet, and irritated at her for saying no to them. Was she jealous? Is she trying to have me all to herself, despite the talk of helping me find a guy to lose my virginity to?
“They seemed nice.” I pause, not believing my friend would just let a rugged Greek God like Paul walk away. “And Paul, he was super sexy, Jane! And you just send him packing?”
I’m usually not the type to get angry or irritated with anyone, let alone my friend, but her behavior just now makes no fucking sense. Plus, she’s grinning like there’s a big detail I missed.
“What?” I pause, not sure what’s happening. “What are you smiling for?” I glare at her. “Listen, you were the one who wanted me to lose my virginity on this trip!” I jab both of my poles into the snow, lowering my voice. The sloppy, wet snowflakes have begun to hit my face. “And Paul, well, he seemed like a good candidate for me!”
Just what I’m into, I add silently, ignoring the wet spot I can still feel forming in my panties.
Jane laughs, the sound reminding me of tinsel on a Christmas tree. Shiny, beautiful and complicated. “Relax, babe. I wasn’t cock blocking you.”
I give her another glare, thinking, Well, it sure feels like it. I bet Paul feels that way too. Or would, if I asked him.
“I’m serious,” says Jane, pulling me away from the side of the lodge and back towards the line to get onto the ski lifts. She leans into me as we make our way toward a more challenging, black diamond slope, and whispers, “You have to do that with guys like that. You have to make them think you’re not interested, to get them more interested.”
Her voice is hot cotton candy. Smothering. Overwhelming. And worst of all, it’s taking away my upset.
“You didn’t see what I saw, Mariah.” She pauses, as we get in line for the ski lift. “When I told them no, the other two guys — they looked intrigued. Maybe your tall-dark-and-handsome didn’t, but it’s only because he knows how to play the game better. But the other two obviously did. And that’s what we want.” The line moves, and we move up with it. Just in time to be scooped into a ski lift seat. “It worked. The one guy gave us the card, invited us to some nice fancy place for some fun party. And this way, when we do show up, they’ll be that much happier to see us, because we played the game right.”
“You keep mentioning this game I didn’t even know I was playing,” I tell her. “What game are you talking about?”
“The mating game,” she says, shrugging. “It’s just like animals play. The tall guy…he’s the alpha. He’s not about to let you in on his interest. He’ll keep you guessing, but you have to do the same. You can’t be throwing yourself at them or they won’t enjoy the chase as much.”
“You’re right, Jane. I guess I have a lot to learn about these things, huh?”
No wonder I can never seem to get laid, I think. I was clearly going after the wrong guys. Not alphas. And I was throwing myself at them way too much. Ruining the chase part of the game.
“You do have a lot to learn, but that’s okay!” Jane’s cheery voice is even louder without the extra noise of people to block it out. “Because you have me, and I know everything there is to know about getting a hot guy to lose himself over you!”
I chuckle, thinking through Jane’s previous conquests. She’s right. She’s always dated rich, powerful alpha males. Although, something tells me she’s never quite gone all the way. There’s a note of over confidence in her voice that betrays her.
And, even though we’ve talked about sex, it’s always about the type of sex we’d like to have, not the type of sex we’ve already had. I’ve always kept my suspicions to myself, though, thinking that if Jane wants to tell me whether or not she’s a virgin, she will. I’m someone who can’t seem to keep any detail about myself that private, so, I admire her for it, if it’s true.
“So, we’re going?” I try to sound like I’m not excited for Christmas to come early, but I know I’m failing miserably.
“Hell yeah, we’re going,” says Jane, as I turn the small card over in my fingers. It reads: The Exchange Club, Aspen. Underneath that is an address. And underneath that are the words, Basement. By invitation only. Dinner starts promptly at 8 PM.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.”
The address isn’t somewhere I recognize. I haven’t been to Aspen as much as Jane has, but I know enough of the resort and surrounding town to know that this “Exchange Club” place is not your typical tourist destination.
“What do you mean?” Before I even have time to explain that the address isn’t recognizable to me, Jane snatches the card out of my fingers and looks at it for herself. “Hmmm.”
Without letting go of the card, she digs in her ridiculously fluffy ski coat and pulls out her smartphone. She quickly types in the address provided, and scans the results. “I don’t recognize this either,” she admits. “And I know this resort town like the back of my hand.” She fingers past a few more results. “Nope. Nothing.”
I don’t know how she does it, but Jane manages to be a technological wizard, and she manages to do it with just enough time left over to disembark from a moving platform or vehicle. She closes out her phone apps and puts the phone back in her coat just in time to gracefully jump off the lift.
I follow her, hopping off the lift a little more carefully. Unlike Jane, I don’t come here every winter.
Jane and I don’t talk until we’re well on our way through the trees and into the snow. We’ve come upon a ski park for advanced skiers and snowboarders, so we slow down to observe our surroundings.
“So, what do you think?” I pant, trying to keep my speed even. It’s a little harder on this steeper terrain. “Should we go check this place out?”
Jane slides up beside me. No backwards skiing this time. “Absolutely!” She rubs at her nose with the edge of a glove. “And if it turns out that these guys are dicking us around, we’ll just find a club or something.”
Jane and I go over a small jump. She lands more easily than I do. “We’ll find a couple of good guys to buy us drinks, and then take them back to the lodge with us and make them our fuckboys.” In the following silence, my pussy clinches. Not from the idea of a fuckboy, but from remembering Paul’s eyes. The heat in his words. The dominance in his touch. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll make sure you lose your virginity, and with someone totally hot.”
My pussy throbs at the thought. The thought of feeling a dick inside of me instead of just my fingers makes me twitch.
Losing my virginity wasn’t something I thought I wanted so badly, but now I can’t get it out of my head. Even though I want it to be with someone like Paul, if I have to, I’ll take any man.
As long as he grabs me and takes what he wants, and I don’t have to ask. Because I’m tired of throwing myself at men, just to feel rejected. I need someone to make me their fucktoy. And I sure hope that someone is Paul.
Chapter 7 – Paul
For the last 15 minutes, my brother and his friend have been manic about the time.
I’ve just been on a dizzying car ride, and now I find myself being hurried down a set of basement stairs. This was, of course, after being practically thrown out of the car by Jordan, while my brother went to park out of sight.
“Come on, come on,” urges my brother. Despite the fact that we’re all dressed a little too well for finding ourselves in a basement (full tuxedos, freshly combed and oiled hair, a few good watches and rings on), Alex is moving like we’re about to miss our gateway to heaven. “It was hard enough to get an invitation, my dear brother. I’m not wasting all my fucking hard work because you have lead feet.”
“All right, all right!” I pick up my pace and my voice, but not too much. I’ve just noticed a man standing by an ornate set of doors. He is dressed more like a b
utler, but believe me: he has the bearing and the training equal to a Navy SEAL. I can smell it on him. Above the ornate, heavy dark-wood doors, there is an equally ornate black plaque with gold letters. The letters, which I assume are made out of actual gold, read: The Exchange Club. “The Exchange Club? What the hell is this?”
“An awesome place none of us will get to experience, if you don’t move a little faster,” says Jordan. “When they say dinner starts at 8, they mean it. If you don’t have your ass in a seat by then, you don’t get in.”
With those words, all three of us come off the stairs like a roll of thunder, and head with purpose toward the doorman.
“But you still haven’t told me what this is,” I say, not liking being manhandled or told what to do. Usually I’m the one in charge and I don’t like giving up control, even if they do think it’s for my own good.
My brother comes out from behind me, flashing three gold tickets at the doorman. The way he does it, it’s like it’s an FBI badge, or the holster of a gun. Wordlessly, the doorman bows, and opens one side of the double doors.
It isn’t until we walk through the doors and I get an eyeful of the dim, fine-dining interior, that Alex answers me. When he does, it’s in a hot, almost nervous whisper. “Don’t worry about that for now. Let’s just get a seat.” With that, he takes me by the arm, and again hurries me along. “If we don’t hurry, all the good spaces up front will be taken.”
I sigh, giving up on getting anything good out of him. Instead, I take some time to analyze my location. If Alex isn’t going to tell me what’s going on, I’ll just have to figure it out for myself.
The first thing I notice: lots of men and women. Mostly men. All in elegant, designer clothes. Suits and gowns everywhere. And let’s not forget obnoxiously-expensive jewelry. There’s possibly a whole treasure chest’s worth of that worn by the other guests. Gold. Silver. Precious gems — it’s all here.