I shivered and shuddered as the orgasm came in one wave after the other. We orgasmed together, the one kickstarting the other and pushing us into what felt like a never-ending loop.
Finally, it ended. We came down from our sexual high and lay together on the bed, breathing hard, spent. Brad got off me and laid down next to me as he took off the condom.
“You’re beautiful,” he said to me.
I turned my head and smiled at him. I felt beautiful. After this, and with Brad, I felt like a million bucks.
Brad rolled onto his side and faced me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded, and this time, it was the truth. How could I not be, after all that? But I was with Brad, and that was what brought me happiness.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said to Brad. “I don’t have much of my degree left, before I’ll be done with school. Then I should start looking for a job and doing the whole growing up thing.”
“It’s highly underrated,” Brad said.
I laughed. “Yeah, I love the freedom of being responsible. But I was thinking, I don’t have to go to class to finish my degree if I set it up that way.”
Brad frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I think that when a student at my school doesn’t have many classes left, we can take them online. I can take the lectures and submit assignments remotely. I might have to fly back to do an exam every semester. It might cost a bit more, but…”
Brad blinked at me, trying to put two and two together.
“The money is nothing. You know that. But, what I’m trying to figure out is… Are you saying you want to move to Miami with me, and come stay with me?” he asked.
I nodded, suddenly feeling silly. “Do you think it’s too soon for that?”
Brad smiled, his face changing, his eyes lighting up.
“No, Carly. I think it’s six years too late.”
Epilogue – Brad
6 months later
There were few things in life more satisfying than a good training session. I had played considerably well, even Coach Rudi had complimented me on it, and life was the way it should be. When I got home, the apartment was quiet.
“I’m home,” I called.
“I’m in the bedroom, getting ready to go out,” Carly answered.
I walked through to the bedroom, dumping my gear bag in the hallway on the way the master bedroom. Carly was sitting in front of the mirror at her dresser, the robe around her shoulders and her hair pinned up. She was doing her makeup.
“How was training?” she asked, looking at me in the mirror.
I crossed the room toward her, and she turned her head to kiss me. After she broke the kiss and turned her attention back to the mirror, I kissed her jaw, working my way down her neck and ending on her shoulder. When I glanced up and made eye contact with her in the mirror, she was shaking her head ever so slightly.
“What?” I asked, but I knew exactly what.
“You know what,” she said. “If you start something now, we’ll miss our reservation.”
I could think of nothing better than to take her to bed, get rid of the robe, and have my way with her. But she was right, we had a reservation, and I didn’t want to sacrifice tonight for sex. There would be plenty more time for that.
“I’m going to shower,” I said, leaving her to her makeup and walking to the bathroom. My life was perfect. I had a wonderful job that I loved enough that I never felt I worked a day in my life.
My apartment was spectacular, with a view to die for. I was surrounded by friends who were willing to drop everything and be there for me when I needed them. And I had the world’s most beautiful woman in the bedroom just on the other side of the door, waiting for me. I couldn’t be happier.
I turned on the hot water and stripped off my sweaty training clothes. The Florida Sharks had had a spectacular season. We had won every game except for one, and that one loss hadn’t touched our position in the rankings at all. I was at the peak of my career, with the scandal of six months ago long forgotten. My fans have always stood behind me, and they would continue to do so. I knew that football was just a sport, but I felt like a hero to them. One day, I would be on someone’s wall, the same way that the greats were on mine.
The best part of the past season was my supporter, Carly. She had very quickly turned into my number one fan, never missing a game and cheering the loudest. When things were going well, she celebrated with me. When I had an injury, she worried herself to death, and when I was down, she was sad with me. I had never dreamed of having a supporter the way Carly was. I couldn’t believe I had played the sport for six years without her by my side.
I stepped in under the hot spray and focused on letting my muscles relax. I had pushed harder today, running faster and lifting heavier weights. I wanted to be better than I already was. I didn’t compare myself to other team members. I didn’t compare myself to the greats of the past. The only person I compared myself to, was the person I was yesterday. It was an outlook on life that Carly had taught me, and it challenged me to excel above and beyond what I had dreamt I could do before. Everything about Carly pushed me to do better, if not for her, then for myself.
With the football season over, I wanted to take another long break. Maybe I would whisk Carly away to a mysterious destination, somewhere overseas. It would be good to get away from Miami, but I didn’t want to go back to Laramie. I wanted to find new places where Carly and I could create new memories, memories not attached to our past, but that would create the foundation for our future.
Carly knocked on the door. “You have to get out of the shower, my love. We’re going to be late.”
“I’ll be right out,” I called and hurried to finish up. Tonight, was too important for me to be late.
When I got out of the shower, I got dressed. I put on a new pair of jeans and a long sleeved, black, collared shirt. The new pair of Italian loafers went with it, and I styled my hair that had grown out a bit. Carly liked it long, and if it was what she liked, she would get it. When I stepped into the bedroom, she took my breath away. We had been living together for six months, and she still managed to do that to me.
She was wearing a red dress that flared out from the waist and hit her just above the knee. The neckline was scooped, leaving just enough to the imagination, and her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore golden jewelry, and black shoes completed the outfit. I walked to her and pulled her against me.
“I don’t have to tell you that you look fantastic,” I said. She smiled, and I kissed her. When I pulled away, I touched my lips. “Did I ruin your lipstick?” I asked.
Carly shook her head, smiling. She tapped her lips with her forefinger and showed me that it was clean. “It’s a long stay lipstick,” she said. “I got it today because you always ruin my lips, and I’m not going to stop kissing you.”
I laughed and kissed her again for good measure. We walked to the elevator and rode our way down to the parking garage. Carly and I had been living together for six months now, and it couldn’t have worked out better for us.
We were soulmates in the full sense of the word. She had done everything to be able to be with me. She was studying online now, taking her classes as webinars when it was serious and submitting her assignments online. When she needed to take tests, she was allowed to do it at home, provided she could prove the textbooks weren’t with her for the exam.
One time, she had flown back to Fort Collins to take a test that was required to attend in person. Other than that, she didn’t have to be physically present at all. Not only was long-distance studying working for her, she was doing really well. I wouldn’t be surprised if she graduated with all kinds of distinctions.
Because she stayed with me and didn’t go to classes where she could meet other people, Carly spent a lot of time with the girls. She had become close friends with all three of them, Kina in particular. The two of them often went shopping together or met up for
coffee to talk about life.
When all of them got together, the four of them often arranged girls’ nights out, and I was more than happy to let Carly go with them. Sometimes Dana even visited and went out with them. Not only was she in good hands with the girls, but I didn’t doubt her dedication to me. Carly and I were in the perfect relationship. We had balance, compromise, and love.
We arrived at Zuma, and I gave the hostess my name. We were taken to the table I had reserved, and we sat down. The waitress brought us our menus and offered to fetch us drinks.
Zuma was one of the best Japanese restaurants in town, with everything from sushi, to fish, to vegetables perfectly cooked and served in Oriental style. It was always full and difficult to get a reservation, but I was Brad Williams, and I could pull some strings.
“I love this restaurant so much,” Carly said.
I nodded. It was the reason I had brought her here instead of choosing somewhere else. I wanted tonight to be memorable.
The meal was fantastic as always, the wine superb, and spending time with my girlfriend was as fulfilling as it could be. When it was time for dessert, Carly picked up the menu again.
“I don’t know what I want,” she said.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Why don’t we look at the menu, pick something we want, and say it together. Imagine we say the same thing.”
Carly laughed. “It would be funny, but I doubt it’s going to happen. We don’t have the same taste at all when it comes to dessert.”
I shrugged. “Humor me.”
Carly nodded. “One, two, three,” she counted.
“Tiramisu,” she said.
“Marry me,” I said at the same time.
Carly looked up at me, surprised. She looked like she thought she must have heard me wrong.
Just to be clear, and because I valued tradition, I got out of my chair, kneeling in front of her. I produced a black velvet box with the ring I had bought for her on display.
“Will you marry me?” I asked the love of my life, the only girl I had ever been with, my soul mate since I was a teenager.
“Brad, I can’t believe this,” Carly said, and she sounded like she was emotional. “I thought we were talking about dessert.”
“I was talking about the perfect ending,” I said. “I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Please, be my wife.”
Tears were streaming down Carly’s cheeks now. She clasped her hands to her mouth and nodded. She extended her left hand to me, and I took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Lacey, I had found out the ring size, and the ring fit perfectly.
Everyone around us applauded. It wasn’t every day a famous athlete proposed to his girlfriend in a busy restaurant. Carly flashed through her tears, smiling, and laughing, and I had to admit I felt quite emotional, too.
When we were finished with dinner and I paid the bill—we had gotten the dessert for free as congratulations on our engagement—we left the restaurant, and a flurry of reporters were outside, waiting for us. That night, they didn’t upset me. In fact, they were right on time.
“She said yes!” I proclaimed, and Carly and I turned to my car. When we were in the car, Carly laughed.
“That will give them something to chew on,” she said.
“Yeah, I thought it would be a good introduction to a press release,” I said.
I wanted to arrange something with Lacey or Kina as soon as possible, announcing our engagement to the world. Of course, it would be in the papers already after this. I didn’t care. Tonight, the whole world could know that I was the luckiest man on earth.
“My poor father,” Carly said. “He always has to find out the hard way what I’m up to with you.”
“I didn’t even think about that. My mom will hear it over the news, too.”
Carly shrugged. “I guess that’s part of being famous,” she said and giggled.
I nodded. My mom would find out over the news, but she wouldn’t be upset. She had seen this coming for a long time. I didn’t know how Carly’s parents would react, but we would take it as it came.
Her dad had softened his heart a little when he’d realized his daughter would be moving so far away and no longer needed his permission— or money— to live life the way she wanted to live it. Her mom had been squarely on our side since the day she’d told Carly to come to Miami with me— and boy, was I glad she had. As I drove us home to spend the night with my future wife, I was incredibly happy about how everything had turned out.
The next morning, Carly and I were all over the paper. The beautiful photo of us emerging from the restaurant with the diamond ring on Carly’s finger took front and center, and the headline was a question. “Are they engaged?”
The world was still debating if they knew the truth, though. Later, we would call our friends, get together, and break the news to them in person. We would spend the day celebrating, but right now, it was just me and Carly. I pulled her to me and kissed her.
“I love you, future Mrs. Williams,” I said.
Carly smiled a beautiful smile. “I love you, too.”
And that was it. I had found my way back to my childhood sweetheart, and had made her my fiancée. I couldn’t have asked for anything to have turned out better.
My life was complete. Except that maybe, down the road, I could see some little Brad- and- Carly’s running around. For now, though, I had everything I wanted, right here in my arms.
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Sold at the Ski Resort: A Virgin & Billionaire Romance
Copyright © 2018 by Juliana Conners and Sizzling Hot Reads.
All Rights Reserved.
This book is a work of fiction and any portrayal of any person living or dead is completely coincidental and not intentional. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author, other than brief excerpts for the purpose of reviews or promotion.
To Matt, and to our love of skiing for inspiring this story.
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Chapter 1- Jane
December 23
The billowing snowflakes make me feel even more miserable as I pull up to the house. Well, that went well, I think sarcastically, turning off the radio and practically ripping my car keys out of the ignition. Wear all my best, sexiest clothes, and the idiot doesn’t even know how to romance me out of my winter coat!
I open the door and climb out. My fluffy, roly-poly coat that goes down to my knees does a good job of keeping the cold out, but not my irritation. Fucking poser!
I slam my car door reminding myself that I’m never going to take Kyle up on his offer of a second date. Him, or boys like him. They are really boys! All of them!
It’s so frigid that underneath the puffy warmth of my jacket, I can practically feel the skin I had planned to have Kyle drool over. Since he didn’t, I imagine the fabric of my coat is caressing me, whispering about all my unfulfilled desires. But this only makes me angry at the softness of the fabric, which reminds me of Kyle’s clumsy, unconscious fingers.
He didn’t know a thing about how to deal with me when I was with him. What to do with all the hints I threw at him! In my head, I see myself exaggerating sexy poses. Inviting him to touch here, touch there. Pull aside this piece of clothing, lift this part. Practically holding up a neon sign that says, “I’m ready and available! Please fuck me!”
But no. Kyle couldn’t read the sign. Hell, he wouldn’t even see a sign if I waved one in front of his face.
He just sat there like an idiot. Grinning. Watching me, like I was putting on a show for him, and not on
ce getting the hint! I pull my coat more tightly around myself and then cinch its hood around my head. Insulated from my embarrassment, and how much colder that makes the falling snow feel, I trudge inside.
I make my way up to my private apartment, which is located in an otherwise unused wing of my dad’s over-the-top mansion. As I get to my front door, I go to open the lock, but I drop the keys. Partly because my fingers are numb, but mostly because my thoughts have turned to Kyle and what I thought he was promising me with tonight’s date. He and I had discussed how prepared he was to taste and finger his way into all my thirsty, curious holes.
But that was all talk. I reach down to pick up my keys and jam the front door key into the lock. Every bit. No game.
I shove my way through the door, slamming it shut behind me. The faint aroma of peppermint and chocolate scents the air. Leftovers of the candy cane hot chocolate I’d had before going on my date. I’d added a shot of peppermint schnapps, but not enough to get me drunk. Just enough to give me a relaxed buzz.
But after that nonsense — I shrug off my big winter coat, and comb my fingers down my plump breasts, smooth belly, and fashion-doll hips — I might need another one. That was a fucking disaster! I pet the fluffy, faux fur trim on my winter cocktail dress, and run my fingers over myself again, feeling lonely. Hungry. Even with just a little touch from my own fingers, my nipples are already hard.
But I guess I’m not one to talk either. Not really.
I walk into the kitchen, pouring myself the last bit of leftover spiked hot chocolate. The schnapps is almost too strong. Almost too violent against the chocolate; cold too, but I drink it anyway, berating myself.
Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Page 117