She clutched at it, her body melting onto it, relief hitting her. He had found her, and she was glad.
The muscles in his neck tightened. He was still holding back. “Together we can be happy just trying to out-kink each other.”
“Sounds good to me,” she about managed to reply, heat breaking out all over her body. The back of her neck was damp, the undersides of her breasts inside her Lycra top growing clammy.
“Do I have that in writing?” He withdrew his cock, moving it outside her entrance again, pressing against her with the hard head but not pushing in. He was teasing her to the max.
She clenched with loss, but she had no control over her lower body, it was entirely in his hands. “No need. I might not give it often, but my word is good, you know that.” She braced her arms, lifted up against the bars again and looked him in the eyes. “I want you, Tommy.”
“Good, because you’ve got me.” He rode her deep, ramming up against her cervix.
She cried out, her hungry eyes devouring him.
As he moved, thrusting hard, his brow was drawn down in concentration, the muscles in his neck corded. His hands clutched her buttocks tight, squeezing the flesh as he thrust into her. He was as driven as she, his cock seeming to swell again inside her, on every thrust. He was ready to blow.
Her sex was stretched to capacity and felt unfeasibly full. The angle was so good, and his rolling hip thrusts sent her back to the edge of ecstasy, fast.
“It feels so good, right there inside you.” He spoke through gritted teeth, and then his mouth opened and his eyes closed. His body bowed back at the shoulders as his hips thrust deep into her.
She cried out, the thrust driving so high and deep, her cervix was palpating, her womb flooded, her chest congested, and her throat on fire.
His cock lurched, jerking inside her.
Her body responded, her sex spasmed and clenched. “Tommy, I’m coming.” Her clit burned, a loop of tension uncoiling inside her. She bucked against him, and her arms weakened, her hands feeble and grasping at the rail, her damp palms sliding on the metal surface. “Oh god, I can’t hold on.”
His eyes flashed, and he moved under her, thrusting her up, so that her weight rested on his hips, his cock angled deep inside her. He jerked his head, flashing his damp hair back from his forehead, and gave a soft, hoarse laugh. “I’m here, I won’t let go. I’m right here.”
Winded, she shuddered and came again, her sex flooded, her head falling forward onto his shoulder.
He reached up, moving around her, wrenching the bondage tape from the bar.
Panting, she moved and latched her hands around his face, lifting her head up and wrapping her legs around his hips. “Isn’t this how we started?”
He smiled, holding her easily, his hands stroking her back. “Things have changed a bit since that night, haven’t they?”
“Yes, they have. Hold me, Tommy.” She was still struggling to catch her breath. Her limbs were weak and shaking, her hands clutching at him.
“Like I said, I’m right here.”
She nodded, looking into his eyes. It was true, and she was glad. She felt raw inside, her chest aching. The pain of the emotion felt good, though. It made her feel alive, really alive, and for the first time ever, Kelly Burton wanted her heart to ache some more.
Author Bio
Award winning British author, Saskia Walker, is fascinated with seduction – she loves to explore how and why we get from saying “hello” to sharing our most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. Saskia currently has fifteen erotic romance novels in publication and her short fiction appears in over one hundred anthologies. She lives in Yorkshire in the north of England, with her real life hero, Mark, and a houseful of felines.
Connect with Saskia!!
Website:
http://www.saskiawalker.co.uk/
Blog:
http://saskiawalker.blogspot.co.uk/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/saskia.walker.965
Twitter URL:
https://twitter.com/saskiawalker
Release
Violet Vaughn
Chapter One
We stop at the top of what looks like a sheer cliff. I grip my poles as terror seeps into my veins. Crud! I have to ski this? My bladder threatens to let go.
Heather’s eyes reflect the blue Colorado sky as she scans the eight of us and says, “I’m going to ski down a bit and stop. One at a time, follow and stop just below me.” Uh-huh. It’s cold, but somehow I’m hot. She makes perfect turns and stops at the bottom.
Holy crap. She made it look so easy. I call out, “I’m not going first.” I need to focus. Maybe I can just sit and slide down on my bottom? I sigh. Probably not if I plan to keep this job.
Casey, the other girl in the group, says, “I will.” Her skis scrape snow as she makes her first turn. She’s confident, and damn if she doesn’t make it look easy, too. My pulse beats at a frantic rhythm as if it’s trying to run away. I take a deep breath, and icy air floods my lungs. I can do this. Just one turn at a time.
Two guys have gone, and I decide it’s now or never. “I’m going next.” I say it with way more confidence than I have. My legs shake and my hands are sweaty. But this is a familiar feeling, and it’s not like I’m going to die if I fall. I point my skis down the hill. Applying pressure to my right ski, I make them move to the left in a turn. It worked. Talk about a leap of faith.
I somehow manage to get them sideways again going the other direction. Except I’m going way too fast. Every muscle is tense, and I don’t dare breathe. I’m almost at the other side before I move at a comfortable speed, but I can’t stop now. I gulp in air and plunge into another turn. Yes! I’m doing it. My body relaxes a bit, and thankful for the adrenaline surge, I let it give me strength. After what seems like forever, I’m at the bottom.
Heather’s voice sings with a slight Australian accent. “Lori, I know that was hard for you. But you have what it takes to be a great skier. Stick with us, and you’ll be crushing that in March.”
Wow. I totally sucked, but Heather thinks I have potential. Casey taps my pole with a clink. Sweet. Still trembling, I’m grateful when the attention turns away from me.
I barely notice the next two guys while I ride the high of Heather’s approval. I realize only Bill is left. Before he goes, Jason raises his eyebrows at Casey in amusement. I’m curious and watch closely and whenBill flies down the hill, and I hear Casey make a disapproving sound under her breath.
When he gets to us, he looks proud. Heather shakes her head. “Bill, I don’t know what they teach in Virginia, but here we teach turns—not testosterone moments.” I cringe for him.
Today is rookie training for ski instructors, and we’re learning to teach by working on each other’s skiing. I’m fascinated by how something as simple as where your weight’s focused can make such a difference in the ability to make a good turn. I have a tendency to put my weight on the balls of my feet, as if I’m wearing high heels. It makes the end of my turn wash out and gain speed, so Heather has me working on staying over the center of my feet.
At the bottom of the trail, Casey turns back to me. “Hey, Lori, ride with me and Jason.” I slide up and join them in line. “Jason and I came here from Vermont.” She turns her head toward him. “Lori’s from New Hampshire.”
Jason lifts his goggles to talk to me and leans over his ski poles so his head comes down to my height. I notice his mossy-green eyes. “Have you been to Breck before?”
“No. Matt’s a friend of a friend, and he hired me over the phone.” I’m suddenly self-conscious about my skiing. “He knew I wasn’t very good but said he could use me for kids.” Not exactly the truth, but I don’t have any intention of sharing the real story.
“Isn’t it amazing here? Just wait till you ski powder.” Jason stands back up as we move to the loading area. Chairs move on a cable, and once one goes by, we step out and place our feet over a thick line marked in the
loading area. Turning to look over our shoulders, we wait as a chair moves toward us. The chair swoops us up, and I reach to pull the bar down. Jason pulls too, which is nice. These things are heavy. He asks, “How long have you been skiing?”
I look over at his chiseled face. “This is my third winter.”
His eyes widen. “Seriously? You ski well for only doing it two years.” He sits back. “I don’t even remember learning.”
“I don’t either.” Casey grins. “I’m not sure I could do it now. It’s kind of crazy if you think about the danger.”
Snow-dusted mountains jut into the blue sky. “It is. I’m not sure why I keep doing it. I have to tell you that steep part was the scariest thing I’ve ever skied.”
Casey tilts her head at me. “You were awesome. I’m so impressed by you. I would have crumpled into a ball and cried.”
Maybe, but I bet if she knew real danger, she wouldn’t say that. “Thanks. What I really wanted to do was slide down it on my butt.” I grin. “Someday I’d like to ski as well as you do. You’re my ski idol.”
“Wait until you see my epic falls. You may change your mind.” She smiles.
I look at her reddish-blond curls hanging below her helmet and wish I had her grace. She has a way about her that’s confident and easy to be around. Tall and slender, she doesn’t have the typical “sexy” body, but something about her definitely drives guys wild. I can tell by the way Jason looks at her.
Bill seems to think she’s hot, too.
Casey swings her skis. “Lori, you should come take a locker in our row. You only picked one this morning, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, “I will. It would be nice to be near another female.” My nerves are soothed by this girl’s kindness. It’s good to make friends again.
The next two days are full of training. We cover everything from how to ski with a group safely to avalanche danger. It’s the most physical I’ve been in months, and I’m wiped.
My brain is packed with so much new information about skiing, and I look forward to my first real day of teaching. Casey comes down the aisle of blue metal lockers as the nylon of my ski pants swishes over my long underwear.
“Lori, come meet Nick and Megan.” She walks me around the corner. “Hey, guys, this is Lori. She wasn’t at the party, and I wanted her to meet you.” Megan is fair with big eyes framed by straight hair, while Nick has the angular good looks of a Grecian. They both say hi.
And then my world stops. Just past them, a guy stares at me. My pulse quickens. His blue eyes dazzle against his dark skin. Wow. Chaotic hair falls to his chin. He’s drop-dead gorgeous and staring at me? Does he recognize me? My hands get cold, and I can’t breathe. Someone says something, but I don’t know what.
Casey breaks through. “Do you know him?”
I crash back to reality and look at her. “No.” I shake my head.
But, I want to, I think. Please tell me that was attraction and not something else. When I look back down the aisle, he’s gone, and I walk toward my locker in a daze of confusion.
Chapter Two
The buckle of my helmet strap clicks shut as I get ready to go out and I wonder what he teaches. Sliding my arms into my coat, I run a mental checklist of what I need for the day and try to focus. I don’t trust myself to get it right considering the way I feel just now. The steady beat of ski boots leads me to the racks that hold our skis and boards. I hope to catch a glimpse of Adonis.
But I don’t. Disappointed, I get my skis and head out the back door. Metal clangs as my boots bang up the steps to the snow. The bright sun reflects off the powder, and I squint as I head over toward the purple building known as the Kids’ Castle.
I walk by the adult instructors. They’re a mass of purple, red, and black uniforms, and they joke around as they gather for their lineup. Instructors actually line up shoulder to shoulder and get pulled out by the supervisor for their assigned level. A part of me hopes I’ll get good enough to teach adults someday.
Once inside, I’m immersed in the sound of people talking. Adults fill out forms on clipboards while children bounce about. I slip through nylon arms and little bodies, and I make my way into a cafeteria-style room. Long, low picnic tables are laid out in rows and the scent of pine and lemon tries to hide a spoiled-milk odor. This is where the five- to seven-year-olds come to meet. I walk over to the registration desk, and Heather sends me to a table. My first day teaching I’ll be working with another instructor.
“Evan?” I ask. “I’m Lori.”
Evan’s straight hair is over his eyes as his Sharpie squeaks out a name on masking tape. He blows air up to move his bangs as he raises his head to look at me.
“Hey, Lori. We just got Emily, and I’m getting her labels ready. She needs six, one for each ski, each boot, her helmet, and one for her cubby.”
I sit next to Evan, across from the little girl. “Hi, Emily. Are you excited to ski today?”
Big brown eyes glance up at me. “Uh-huh.” She’s busy drawing a picture.
“What are you drawing?” I hear the sound of masking tape tear from the roll.
“It’s my doggy, Ollie. He didn’t get to come with us, and I think he’s sad.” She scribbles him in with a purple crayon.
“Maybe he needs some doggy skis. Do you think he’d like skiing?”
She giggles, so I tease her a little more. “Of course he’d need a helmet and goggles too. Wouldn’t that look funny?”
Evan brings a little boy over to joins us. “This is Owen. Lori, can you do labels while I run the kids to our table?”
I grab the pen and tape. “Of course.”
I spend my day on the beginner trail, teaching kids to stop and turn. Frequent trips to the bathroom and lunch duty add to the physical exhaustion of picking up little people all day. I love this job.
Later, I’m sitting on the bench by my locker, rubbing my feet when Casey comes in. “What a great day. I had beginners, and they were a blast. How did kids go?”
“It was fun. They’re so adorable and funny.” I peel off a sock and rub my foot. My arches ache. “My feet are killing me. Does this get better?”
Casey flicks open her boot buckles. “Do you have custom inserts? They make all the difference in the world.”
Of course they do. Why didn’t I think of that? “No. I don’t have any of the stuff you cool kids do.” I grin at her so she knows I’m joking.
She smiles. “Well, we’ll just have to fix that. By the end of this year, you’ll be running with the big dogs.” The odor of boy’s gym socks wafts my way.
“Are you going to the Gold Pan?” The Gold Pan is a bar where the locals hang out. I haven’t been there, but talk in the locker room is instructors will be meeting there after work. I think a beer would taste good, and I’m a little excited about being part of a group instead of watching it. I also hope to talk to Adonis, because he has invaded my thoughts quite a few times today.
“I am. We can walk out to the parking lot together and meet there if you want.” Casey fluffs up her hair. “I’m going to go to the bathroom quickly and come back to get you. Bring your boots, and I’ll take you to get inserts, too.”
“Sounds good. I’m almost ready.” My hair is silky in my hand as I brush it out and put on a hat to cover any helmet-head issues. Checking the mirror I have attached to the inside of my locker, I decide to add a touch of lip gloss and wish I’d thought to bring mascara. I may not have that Adonis’s baby blues, but I know my brown eyes are one of my best features. I really should find out his name.
I Velcro my ski-boot power straps together to sling them over my shoulder with one boot in front and one in back, the way I’ve seen other instructors do it. My leather-and-fleece boots caress my feet as I move across the tightly woven carpet floor.
The locker room is a series of dark blue locker aisles. At the end of my row, I can turn left to go to the bathroom, ski and board racks, and the back door that leads to the snow. I turn right and walk by the supervisor
offices lining one wall. At the end are the double doors that lead to the parking lot.
I’ve almost memorized all the employee cars and will soon be comfortable enough that I would notice a change. I scan quickly and refresh the images I’ve stored. It’s a quick ride to town, and my heater has just started to work when I arrive at the bar. I rub my cold hands together and wait for Casey.
She pulls into the Gold Pan parking lot minutes after I do. I hop out of my truck and slam the door with a heavy metallic clunk. The remote lock beeps when I press the button, and we approach a run-down-looking building. The sight of a dive bar makes me apprehensive and I glance around the area for anything unusual, but recognize most of the vehicles from the employee parking lot. Relief washes over me.
The stench of stale beer welcomes us when we walk in. The interior is like an old western movie, and I’m tempted to look for a whiskey bottle and shot glass on the bar. The floor is warped and worn, and a mirror behind the bartender reflects yellow lights and amber liquids, which give the whole place a sepia tone. I look over at Casey. “I’m going to get a beer. Want one?”
“Sure.” She hands me a five.
I squeeze my way up to the edge of the dull wooden bar and try to catch the bartender’s eye. Evan sees me. “Hey, Lori. You did amazing today.”
“Thanks. You were super helpful. I appreciate it.” The bartender looks at me, and I order two beers.
“I told Heather you’re fine to get your own class tomorrow.” He reaches over and gives me a fist bump.
I turn to the bartender and hand her my money. I take a sip of my beer as I wait for change. It’s cheap beer, but it’s ice cold and feels wonderful as it slides down my throat. I search the mirror to get an overview of the people in the room. It’s a happy bunch and nobody seems to be on their own watching the crowd. Leaving a tip, I take the money and drinks. I search for Casey and find her texting. “I don’t know how long you want to stay here, but I’m not going to last long.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 139