by Piper Rayne
The truth is I forgot all about the luck thing. I haven’t even thought about it in days.
“Hey,” a soft, feminine voice stops me before I get up to the starting gate to get ready.
Before I even have a chance to say hello, her lips press to mine, her mitten-covered hands on my cheeks. “Good luck,” she says with the sincerest eyes I've ever encountered.
“Thanks. Someone kept me up last night.”
She flutters her eyes. “At least you didn't expend any energy.”
I lean in closer to make sure none of the other guys can hear me. “That changes tonight.”
“Hey, you win gold and I'll be your celebratory prize.”
My dick literally shoots up in my pants. “Done.”
“You're next,” Coach yells and then looks at who I'm talking to. “Oh, hey, Demi. When do you compete?”
They start talking about how it sucks being at the end of the Classics, then Coach asks about her mom and the light in her eyes diminishes a bit.
“So, you think our boy can do it?” Coach asks teasingly.
I sit down on the chair, clipping into my board and glance up. Our eyes lock and her attention is on me when she answers.
“I hope so, otherwise I'll be running for my life.” She makes like she’s feeling money between her thumb and index finger, as if she bet on me. “But it's his. I know it.”
I mouth thank you then stand up on my board. “How about one more kiss?”
She glances at Coach and then jogs up to me. She raises to her tiptoes and lightly presses her lips to mine. A few of the guys lingering around whistle and sure enough as soon as she falls back on her heels, her cheeks are red and not from the wind this high up on the mountain.
“Don't fuck it up.” She smacks me lightly in the stomach, turning and walking back down toward the spectator’s area. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiles. “I'll meet you at the bottom.”
I nod, watching her go. Hopefully, a kiss is enough to get me seeded well.
“Okay, Romeo, let's get set.” Coach raises his eyebrows, no doubt wondering what's going on with me and Demi.
I place my goggles over my eyes, strap my mittens again, rock my hips a few times and then nod to Coach.
Minutes later, the metal gate slams down and I jet out onto the icy terrain. I hate riding by myself—I much prefer a challenger next to me. Maybe because the reason I compete so hard is that I've done it my entire life with my brothers. Always fighting for the remote, the last helping of food, Mom’s attention.
My mind shifts back to last night with Demi and my heart speeds up knowing she's down there waiting for me, ready to give me a hug after my killer score goes up on that screen.
The line between Demi and me is blurring. I may have never been in a serious relationship my entire life, but I can still feel the energy shifting. It's no longer only sexually charged. There's a familiarity between us. A calmness inside me different from the storm that's usually brewing—the one that wants to go crazy jumping off of shit and pushing the limits, say whatever I want no matter who I offend.
The killer of all it is that I'm enjoying myself. Finding out about her, what she loves and what she hates last night was somehow fun. I didn't even care if we slept together. That might be a bit of a stretch, I am a testosterone-laden male after all, but the fact that we didn’t have sex didn’t diminish the night.
With all the mental thoughts traveling through my head, I realize I'm about to cross the finish line and I remember none of the race. Not one single turn, or jump, or whether I was able to keep my air low.
Shit, I probably strolled down the course like a grandma in the grocery aisle. I'm going to be seeded last and have to work my way up. Fuck.
I come to a stop, and the crowd is cheering so either they're cheering because they feel sorry for me, or I didn't do half bad. The screen takes forever to update, and I wait for the judges while I rack my brain trying to remember anything from the last few minutes.
My time goes up and the crowd cheers louder. I pump my fist in the air, unclipping myself from my board and walking through the opening in the inflatable barrier. Demi's arms wrap around my neck and her lips kiss my cheek before I can even talk to the press.
Guess our...friendship…is out there for all to see now.
A few cameras snap the picture.
“I knew you'd do it. Congratulations,” she whispers in my ear, stepping back to give my other friends room to approach.
Grady, Beckett, and Brandon fist bump me and Mia and Skylar both say their congratulations.
One of the interviewers, Nik, a snowboarder in his own right pulls me aside. Nik retired after the last Classics and he's trying to make a name for himself as a reporter here.
“Dax, or Soups, that's what they call you, right?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“How does it feel? You seemed to hit some kind of zone out there. You had a near flawless run like you were on autopilot.”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Man of few words, that's unusual for you. A lot of athletes have superstitions before they compete in something like this. You have any that helped you out on the course today?”
I glance back to my group of friends. Beckett's smug smile is the first thing I notice, but Demi's sweet grin with her hands pressed together in front of her mouth like she just ran her best time is what I can't stop looking at.
“A girl?” Nik asks, looking between Demi and me. “Never thought I'd see the day.”
“No!” I blurt out. “I mean... I don't believe in superstitions.” I regret the words immediately.
What's the harm in saying Demi is my lucky charm? Other than the fact that now she'll think that's the only reason I'm sticking around. She doesn't need to know why I originally sought her out—it would ruin everything. After her whole ‘I'm never good enough’ confession last night, that's the last thing I ever want her to know especially when it holds no weight anymore. Hopefully, Beckett kept his trap shut and didn't tell that panty shield, Skylar.
Nik laughs. “Okay, well, as of right now you're seeded in top spot, so good luck on the way to the semifinals.”
“Thanks, Nik.” He walks away, ready to interview the next guy who's going to come off the course.
“Way to go! Man, I still can't believe how much you were in the zone today.” Grady pulls my head down into a headlock.
I wiggle out of his hold. “Yeah, I just...I don't even know what to say.” Demi seems reluctant to come over to me now and I have to think that it has to do with the interview. But what could she be mad about? I didn't do anything but say I don't believe in superstitions. My response had nothing to do with us.
“We're headed to the restaurant, wanna join?” Beckett asks, and he has to know the answer is no. I have semifinals in a few hours.
“No, I'm going to hit the pillow for a bit.” My eyes veer to Demi who’s busy eyeballing the snow instead of looking at me.
“Good idea,” Beckett says. “We'll be back before your next run.”
I give my friends a fist bump, while Mia gives me a quick hug and Skylar mumbles congratulations again. Demi just gives me a small smile and bypasses me to follow the others.
I reach out and grab her arm, tugging her back to me. “You wanna stay with me?”
She blinks like it surprises her that I want her with me. “You sure?”
That's when I know that whatever it is between us, things aren’t so carefree anymore.
“Definitely. Nap?”
She wraps her arms around my waist, inching up on her toes and kissing my neck. “Maybe we can expend a little energy before our nap?”
Maybe I’m wrong because my little nympho has come out to play and what I thought was going to be a conversation about how I hurt her, is now about getting it on which shows how on page she is with this. The relief I expected to feel at that isn’t there.
“How’s your hip?” I ask.
“I think it needs to be stretched
out with some rocking,” she says with a grin.
“Well,” I turn us toward the village, “how can I say no to helping out a fellow athlete?”
Chapter Sixteen
My fists clench the sheets as her lips travel down my abs, her tongue slides up my length, teasing the tip and makes a path to the base of my shaft. I remember four years ago and how good she was and how much I loved watching my cock slide in and out of her mouth.
All my worries at the bottom of the slope disappear into ether because we must be on the same page as to what we want out of this—sex.
Stop thinking.
Her mouth is completely around me now, her hand pumping my base, the sound of slurping mixed with her moans is all I hear.
I try to keep my hands fisted in the sheets, not wanting to direct her. I’d rather just let her do her thing because she does it so damn well. I open my legs, my hips bucking because it's so fucking hot having her mouth on me that it’s impossible not to do something. I'm surprised and impressed that I've lasted this long.
“Fuck, I'm gonna come,” I rasp out.
Demi stays in place, continuing what she’s doing, her hair cascading down either side of her face, tickling my thighs. I know Demi swallows—that’s not something a guy is likely to forget—and I'm more than happy to oblige her wishes. She reaches down and cups my balls, playing with them and I shoot like a rocket into the back of her throat.
She smiles at me over my now deflating dick and licks her lips before starting to move back up to me.
“What about you?” I ask, rolling her over.
“Ouch,” she says.
“Shit, I forgot.” I run my hand over her bruise.
“It's okay.” Her hands wrap around my neck. “I'm good. You need to nap.” She puts her feet under the blankets, pulling the sheets up over us.
“Nap?”
“Yeah, that's what you wanted to do, right? You need to make sure you're ready to go.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand, thumbing the screen and then clicks it off. “When we wake up we can go get something to eat and then you're on.”
I pull her into my chest, my arm wrapped around her shoulders, my finger lazily gliding along her spine. “You're like a mother hen.”
She kisses my neck and then my chest, patting my stomach. “Night, night.”
Is this weird? I mean she's lying naked in my arms and we’re going to sleep together. We've done this…never. But I suppose we did just fool around, so this isn't exactly crossing a line.
So, I shut my eyes and go with it. It was her plan after all.
* * *
“Good luck.” She kisses me on the lips at the top of the hill. “Not that you need it.”
I sit in the chair, clipping into my board and adjusting my mittens.
“See you at the bottom,” I say with a smile.
“I'll be waiting.”
She touches Coach Fitzgerald's arm and then I watch her head down. She better hurry, otherwise I'll beat her.
“So, you and Demi, huh?” Coach asks then chuckles a bit. “Her mom is not going to like you.”
I want to ask Coach a million questions about Demi's mom. Why won't she like me? Why is she so tough on Demi? But all the racers have just been called to the start gates.
“Red?” The guy who's in charge of putting us in stalls like we're a bunch of thoroughbreds calls out.
“Here.” I raise my hand.
“First pick.” He points to the starting gates.
I select the first gate. Since I had the best time on my first run, I pick first. I point to where I want. “Thanks.”
“Don't think too hard,” Coach says behind me and I turn to look at him like what the hell do you expect me to do here. “Well, you know what to do.”
I nod, he's right, I do. Not that I don't love my coach, but at this point I just have to do what they taught me, trust that I'm ready. Years of hard work culminate into a few minutes on this mountainside.
I place my hands on the handles, sliding my board like I usually do, flexing my hips because that's what’ll get me out ahead of the rest of the guys.
The metal gates come down and all six of us push off and head toward the first dip. The snow crunches under my board, the sun shines down on the track, making it a bit slushier than it was this morning. I'm keeping my air low and my speed high, but there's still a couple guys lingering around me.
I was meant for the race—the speed and the twists and turns. I love the competition. To know that when you're the first over the line, you're number one.
I shift my body low to the ground and then back up catching air. The bottom is coming up fast, only one more big hill and I'll be finished with this run.
Soon, I'm in the lead, which means I should be fine to secure a spot in the top three. A second later, I'm the first over the line and carving out my stop.
I glance over at the crowd, but I don’t see Demi. I fist bump some of the other riders, then pull my goggles up, scouring the sidelines. She’s not there.
Maybe she got distracted or didn't make it down the hill fast enough. All the riders start leaving the area to move out of the way for the next set of riders coming down. Once I'm through the exit, Nik is there, waiting with his microphone.
Grady, Mia, Beckett, and Skylar are all there, too, but still no Demi. Where the fuck did she go? She said she'd be at the bottom waiting.
I fist bump the guys. I may not understand much about women, but Mia and Skylar share a look that tells me something is up.
“Dax, looks like today is your day,” Nik says, putting the microphone in my face.
“Yeah, I've been lucky.”
“Maybe a lucky charm?”
My eyes flash to Beckett, but he slowly shakes his head and I wonder where the hell Nik came up with that on his own. Maybe I'm just stressed because Demi's not here. Why isn't she here?
“Just skill, Nik.” I wink and clap him on the shoulder.
“Well, good luck on your upcoming races,” Nik as I make to walk away.
“Thanks.”
He drops the microphone, fist bumps me and then heads through the crowd. I have to admit he's doing a great job.
“Hey guys.” I take off my helmet and rub my sweaty head with my gloved hand.
“Brandon will be here for the next one. He had an interview,” Grady says, and I nod, though he’s not the person I want to hear about. I mean I love Brandon and all, but he's not the one I’ve been sleeping with this whole time.
I look to Mia, hoping she’ll tell me where Demi is. I'd prefer not to hear it from Skylar since she's so anti-Dax and Demi.
“Her mom texted her,” Mia says and reaches out to me. “But she said she'll be back for the next one.”
I nod and notice a guy on a snowmobile waiting to take me back up the hill.
“Okay, I'll see you guys.”
“You got this,” Beckett shouts right before the snowmobile roars to life and races away.
The competition is becoming even more fierce but as long as I land in the top three I'm in finals.
My mind is a jumbled mess on my next run. I manage to secure a spot, but I came in fucking third. Damn it, I won't be able to pick my lane. Hell, I'll probably be last this time.
Walking out of the inflatable exit isn't so great when Nik doesn't care to interview you. He's on to the bigger and better athletes who crossed the finish line first.
I fist bump the guys. Mia hugs me, whispering in my ear. “She'll be here for your final, I know it.” Good ‘ol Mia, always the optimist.
I nod, but I can't help the gnawing feeling in my stomach. Like I’m missing something. Demi really must’ve been my lucky charm because she doesn't come to one race and I shit the bed.
I hop on the snowmobile again and let it take me up. I’d rather hang around up top awaiting my next run then down there where Demi’s absence feels like a gaping hole.
Sure enough, I'm stuck with picking my stall third. Sucks ass.
I
'm clipping into my board when I hear one of the volunteers call out. “Miss! You can't be here.”
“Please, I'm a skier, see.” It's Demi and I laugh at the thought of her showing her badge.
“Maybe you should find a skiing event then,” the guy says.
“Coach Fitzgerald!” she yells. He eyes me, and I shrug.
Not sure why they're being picky about who they let in now.
A minute later, Demi runs over to us, looks at the color of my bib and frowns.
“I'm so sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “My mom, she's just, God, I missed a race. I'm sorry.”
“No problem.” Although my gut feels like it's a problem. “Go, I don't want you to miss me at the bottom this time.”
She presses her lips to mine, and yum, the taste of cherry makes me smile. Her tongue licks the seam of my lips and I never expected Demi to be so into PDA, but I go with it because she's a great fucking kisser. We're both heaving for breath when we separate.
“Trying to take all my reserve out of me. Are you competing for one of these now?” I pretend to point around and a few of the guys laugh.
Demi laughs and that's what matters. I smack her ass, her missing the race long forgotten, a renewed energy inside of me. “Now, go.”
Lucky for Demi, there's some controversy about times and lanes and bibs which gives her plenty of time to get down to the finish line. I fully anticipate kissing her again when I get down there.
Finally, everyone is ready and we're all grabbing the handles, our hips are rocking and it's time once again. My last race for this Winter Classics—my only chance at a medal.
I close my eyes. Make it count.
The gates go down and I fly out of the starting gate, down and up the first mound. I try to stay focused on the course, the turns, getting on the inside, passing my competition, but I keep tasting cherry, which reminds me of Demi. The way she purrs when my finger runs along her spine. Her soft breaths in and out after she comes. Her hand that lays on top of my stomach, fiddling with my treasure trail.
I’m much calmer when she's around. Usually, my brain is all go go go twenty-four seven, but when I'm with her, it hums like a smooth jazz song.