Too Hip for Love

by Sindra van Yssel

  Except, possibly, my heart. But that thought was fleeting. He knew how to stroke her right, knew the way to angle his cock against her G-spot, knew how hard to thrust and when to speed up. If he wanted her to come, she knew he could make her. Pleasurable tension wound up in her core, waiting to be released. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” He wouldn’t, would he?

  He didn’t. “Come for me, Karen. Now.”

  She realized that the only thing holding her back was the fear that he might stop—or maybe it was the desire to please him. But once he gave the order, she shuddered, pleasure making her body feel electric as it spread from her pussy all over her chest and her limbs.

  A moment later, his cock swelled inside her, and she knew that he too was going to come. She felt the warmth of him gushing. His body collapsed against her, and the swings became shorter and slower until they came to a halt. He wrapped his arms around the swing, pressing her to him.

  I need this.

  As she listened to his breathing, she thought, I need this a whole lot more than once a week. I want to be more than a best friend with benefits. More ice-skating. More love. A family.

  She sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “That was beautiful.”

  “Ah.”

  “I promised whatever you want.”

  “You did.” He smiled.

  “What is it you want?”

  “I just got it. Your surrender.”

  Oh. The same thing you get every Saturday. She bit back the remark because it seemed unkind, and in fact she was kind of flattered by his statement. What she had with Parker was very good. The best thing she’d ever had, and maybe she was being greedy in wanting more. But Parker seemed content with things the way they were.

  Or was he? Taking her ice-skating was out of character and horribly romantic. But he hadn’t followed it up with a statement of love.

  “I need to pull out before I get soft.” Parker held the condom as he withdrew. He was always conscientious and responsible. It was one of the things that made him a great partner, but as their skin contact broke, it felt like something deeper had frayed as well.

  He returned quickly and began unbinding her. She leaned back, letting herself go limp, and pushed away the voices of doubt. The endorphins going through her system helped fuel a pleasant lassitude, and being freshly fucked didn’t hurt either. It’s not only Parker who can make me feel like that. Anyone can. Even when I don’t know who they are. She thought back to the evening before, when Alex had invited people to play with her. It was somehow much safer to deal with Parker not being in love with her if she told herself that love wasn’t necessary for sex.

  He carried her to the couch. As he held her, he would touch the welts he’d made now and then to remind her. She got to the point where she craved that touch. Mine, it seemed to say. Mine to mark, mine to fuck, mine to use.

  They napped for a while, then ate some dinner, and then he drove her home.

  Chapter Five

  “I’ve got to know, Tori.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea, Karen. I thought the whole point was that you wouldn’t know.”

  It was Wednesday night, and Karen had called Tori. Her bags were packed for the skiing vacation, and she was going to call Parker next to tell him where she was going and set up a time to call him later in the weekend. If something went horribly wrong and she wasn’t able to call, Parker would hopefully come looking. It was a good precaution when going off with a stranger, separate rooms or no.

  She wasn’t sure which occupied more of her head space since Saturday—the anonymous sex in Knotty and Nice, or the scene with Parker the next day. What she did know is that both experiences had her wanting more. I should feel satiated. Instead I feel the more I get, the more I want. And I definitely don’t want to end up having sex on this ski vacation. I’m just not that into Gavin.

  “C’mon, Tori, I have to know. I know there was more than one person. And you’re my friend.” She and Tori had been friends for a long time. Karen had topped Tori on several occasions, although for Karen it was just for fun, and so she tried not to do it too often. Tori had it in her to be romantically attracted to a woman, and Karen couldn’t reciprocate. She’d always made that perfectly clear, and she never touched Tori in a sexual way—just tied her up and flogged her mostly—but she suspected that if they got together more than once or twice a year, something might develop in Tori’s mind anyway.

  “I heard you agreed not to try to find out.”

  That was true. And Karen believed in keeping promises, most of the time. In this case, however, she wasn’t sure it was entirely reasonable. After all, over fifty people had seen her. There could be consequences, she told herself, to all those people knowing and her not. But she knew the real reason was that she wanted to know about one person in particular, the one who had made her come. That person clearly had the skill to satisfy her sexual needs, and if they were otherwise suitable, they might be worth cultivating.

  “You know I don’t like to gossip,” Tori added after a pause.

  That wasn’t true. Karen had called Tori for a reason. Tori was the biggest gossip she knew in the scene. She was surprised that Tori was holding out on her. Usually her friend would be bursting to tell something like that. Although the flip side was that Tori might very well tell someone she’d asked too. “Never mind, Tori. You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  Oh, my dear Tori. You are so transparent. “Yes. I really shouldn’t be asking. Still, I feel funny playing with people who might have been playing with me without knowing. I mean, you could have even been one of the people, you know?” Karen knew Tori wanted to play with her again. In fact, she’d probably been angling for that kind of bribe. Karen felt that topping was a good way to learn—if she knew how to use a flogger, she knew better how to tell people what she liked and didn’t like, and she was perfectly willing to play with Tori again. Maybe I should make it an offer rather than threaten to withhold it. But if Tori had been the one with the vibrating fingers, Karen didn’t know what she’d do. She knew she had felt a man’s hand at some point, and had assumed the rest had been a man, but who more likely than a woman to know how to get her off?

  “I would have loved for it to be me, Karen.”

  I wished that surprised me. Still, kind of flattering in a way. And Karen was relieved it wasn’t.

  “I suppose, rather than asking people who it was, I can ask if they can promise me it wasn’t them. Seems like a long way to go about it, and asking new partners, ‘Hey, were you there the time I—’ could have some negative consequences, you know?”

  “I can see that. Okay. I’ll tell you.”

  Which you’ve been dying to do. And you know full well I’ll owe you one. Karen didn’t say another thing, even as the silence dragged on. She didn’t want her pushing to be part of the story Tori told about the conversation.

  “Your friends Craig and Alicia touched you a little. On the sides. And they undid your panties too.”

  Well. That was a surprise. Craig and Alicia were so into each other she hadn’t known they had it in them.

  “Alex did some of the flogging.”

  “I guessed that.”

  “But the rest of it—the flogging, the man who made you scream…”

  So, it was a man. Tori was letting the pause lengthen, but Karen knew her too well to give in.

  “Was a new guy,” Tori concluded. “Never seen him before. Never, ever.”

  “Oh God.” That was hot and disconcerting at the same time. A trusted friend of Alex’s, but someone who hadn’t been to the club before. Because Tori knew everyone at the club. If Alex was the only person who knew him, Karen had no way of setting up another meeting. Unless she asked Alex to arrange it. Maybe. That isn’t the path to a marriage and kids, though. If he likes to be anonymous, it’s worse than Parker, no matter how skilled his fingers are.

  Then Kare
n frowned. Tori, she thought, was too emphatic. Never, ever. As if she’d been told to say that. But she’d revealed Craig and Alicia’s identities easily enough, so there was something special about this one person. Which almost certainly meant that Tori knew them. “You’re lying.” Forgive me if I’m wrong, dear friend. But I don’t think I am.

  “Shit,” said Tori. “I’m really bad at that, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Promise not to tell I told?”

  “Of course. And you, in turn, promise not to tell that I listened.”

  “Deal. It was Parker. All the rest was Parker.”

  Parker. And he’d sat there, so nonchalant after, as if he’d been watching the whole time. He’d even said he had nothing to do with it. No, he’d implied it. And she’d believed it because she’d been so intent on making him jealous. She didn’t know whether to be happy or furious with him. And she’d already known that Parker knew how to touch her in all the right ways.

  She wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk to him right now, either. “Thank you, Tori. Talk to you soon.”

  Then she called Alicia.

  “Alicia, I have a really big favor to ask.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m going off with a guy tomorrow night, for the better part of the weekend. I won’t be at Knotty and Nice on Friday night. What I need is someone I can call—say, Friday at two—and who will send out a posse if I don’t make that call.”

  “A safe call.” Alicia signaled that she understood instantly. “Sure. Parker would make a better choice than me.”

  “I don’t want to talk to Parker right now.”

  “Wow, really? Okay. I’ll do it, Karen. But if I come looking for you, I’m going to bring a whole group of us.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * * *

  Thirty-six hours later, on a chilly Friday morning with a light wind and an inch of real snow on top of the fake stuff, Karen was hurtling down the slopes. Gavin was five yards in front of her. He wasn’t an expert, although he was better than she was, and that was good. It meant he didn’t want to go on the black diamond slope and leave her behind, and she felt she could handle the slopes he did want to ski down with an edge of danger. She was having a fun time, with the rush of air on her face and the speeding scenery as she went by. The sides of the run were full of pine trees, and with snow on them, they were beautiful.

  Gavin seemed to be having fun too, although she suspected they were both enjoying the skiing more than the company. She came to the flat at the end and angled her skis inward to slow down, ending up beside him.

  “Good slope, huh? Great conditions!” Her enthusiasm may have been exaggerated, but it wasn’t feigned.

  “Little icy,” he said. “Artificial snow is usually better. But yeah, it’s pretty good. Let’s do it again.” He started trudging off toward the ski lift.

  That was your chance for a cuddle, big guy. I was out of breath and could have used the rest. She gave herself a few moments and then followed him. Gavin wasn’t much of a conversationalist. But at least he waited at the bottom of the hill for her to catch up, and they rode the lift together.

  “You’re a good skier. So how about we both sleep in my room tonight?” Gavin asked.

  Karen cringed. It had once seemed a reasonable possibility, but despite several opportunities, Gavin hadn’t talked to her much. About skiing, sure. And he’d answered a few direct questions she’d asked—she now knew he worked in the banking industry, that he liked to play racquetball, and that he’d been married for five years in his twenties—but he hadn’t asked her anything back or shown much interest in her as a person. I’m good to ski with and apparently he’s interested in fucking, but he doesn’t care about me at all. “I think maybe that would be rushing things,” she said, trying to be diplomatic. “Let’s take things slow.” He wants to sleep with me, and he can’t even put his arm around me on the lift?

  Gavin shrugged. “All right.” They rode in silence most of the way up. She half expected a comment about how one room would be cheaper, especially as he was paying for it, but it didn’t come. So he wasn’t that bad. Toward the end of the trip, he even put his arm awkwardly around her shoulders, and she let him, but it didn’t stir anything inside. They got to the top, and his attention immediately shifted to skiing. There was no magic, no electricity. It seemed unlikely that would suddenly appear if they got naked.

  They waited for their chance to ski back down the mountain. As usual, Gavin went first. “I ski faster than you, and I don’t want to run into you from behind.” It was true enough, and reasonable, if less than gallant. She launched herself down after him, her mind not on what she was doing.

  Distracted, she took a turn too wide. Skiing demanded her full attention now, and her heart raced. She tried to correct on the next twist, digging her outside ski into the snow, but she couldn’t. Rather than getting a sharp, corrective push, she felt something go crunch as her knee went sideways. She screamed as she fell—not from the pain, although that helped and raised the pitch of her voice, but from a desire to get Gavin’s attention. Her yell was in vain. He was too far ahead and continued down the slope oblivious.

  She held her knee for a moment and sighed. Holding it wasn’t going to do any good. She took off her skis. What had felt like comfortable skiing weather was anything but for sitting in the snow, so she got up on one foot and used her skis for support. She managed to take one painful step to get to a tree and then stuck her skis in the ground, forming a cross with them. Ideally they’d be up the slope a ways to warn skiers, but she was far enough off the main run that she didn’t think that would be too big a danger. Then she waited.

  A skier came by. They didn’t feel skilled enough to stop, it looked like, but they did wave. Good. I’ve been seen. It wasn’t that many minutes to the bottom, and as soon as they reached it, presumably they would send for help. She waited some more, hoping that she didn’t get too cold. Plopping down would be easier, but the ground was too chilly. She leaned against the tree, trying to ignore the cold and the excruciating pain in her knee. Passing out would be bad. Very bad.

  More minutes passed, and then she heard the sound of a snowmobile. Black with a red cross on it, the ski patrol vehicle pulled up alongside her. A woman in a bright red jacket got off it.

  “Hi. I’m Maxine. Did you hurt yourself bad?”

  “Knee.”

  “That sucks. Let’s get you out of here.” Maxine tucked her arm under Karen’s and held her with a surprisingly strong grip. Together they managed the few steps to the back of the snowmobile, and Maxine helped Karen in. She grabbed Karen’s skis and strapped them to the side. “There’s a place we can cut across to the bunny slope, and then I can drive the snowmobile up that, so you won’t have to take the lift back. Is there anyone here with you?”

  “Yeah, I’m here with a guy. I don’t really know him well.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Gavin Martin.”

  “Where is he?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe at the bottom?”

  “We’ll send a message down.” Maxine revved up the snowmobile and flicked on the radio. Karen couldn’t hear what she said after that. Her knee hurt, and the bumpy ride didn’t make it any better, but staying on the slope wasn’t an option. True to her word, Maxine got her up to the top of the hill. Gavin was there waiting when she arrived.

  Maxine got out of the snowmobile and leaned over Karen. “Can you move it?”

  Gavin came and peered at her from behind Maxine’s shoulder but said nothing.

  “A little, I think.” Karen flexed it an inch or so. “But it hurts.”

  “Okay. It could be worse. Obviously, it could be better too.”

  “Is it broken?”

  Maxine shook her head. “I can’t be sure. But my guess is that you have an ACL sprain.”

  “I’ll get you back to the room,” said Gavin.

  “Or a hospital?” asked Karen.

 
; “She should get some X-rays done,” offered Maxine.

  Gavin made a face but said, “Sure. Why’d you hurt yourself?”

  It wasn’t exactly my intention. Karen clenched her teeth. “How, you mean.”

  “Sure, how.”

  “I believe I was skiing,” Karen said. She had no interest in going through the details with him. What she needed was sympathy.

  Instead, he shrugged. “I’ll get the truck.”

  He drove her to the hospital. She realized she had left her phone, keys, and wallet in a locker at the top of the slope, but at least she’d kept her ID and insurance card with her in a pocket of her ski suit, which satisfied the admissions nurse. Together they waited the forty minutes it took her to be seen, and he passed the time by commenting on how much skiing they were missing and how she should be more careful. Neither topic filled her with enthusiasm. When she was finally called back, she was happy he didn’t offer to go in with her.

  The doctor she had was an older, paternal sort. After some painful poking and prodding, he told her she had torn her ACL, but he didn’t think she’d broken a bone, although he’d do X-rays to make sure. After the X-rays, he put her in a brace and gave her crutches and some painkillers. He told her to stay off it and check in with her doctor at home to see when they could do surgery, and then sent her on her way.

  Gavin was there when she got out—she half wondered if he’d bolt because she’d been quite a while. The first thing he did when she appeared was look at his watch. Then he got up and walked over. “Is it broken?”

  “Probably not. The ligament is torn.”

  “Ouch.” He looked meaningfully at her brace. “Guessing you can’t ski.”

  “Not for at least six months.” And I don’t think it’s high on my list of things to do then. Ice-skate, maybe, but by then it will be summer.