by Amanda Rose
I can’t quite believe that Shawna is telling me about her sex-life. It’s pretty surreal given Pierre is sitting in front of us seemingly ignorant to our conversation. Girls talk about their men, I knew that, but not normally right in front of them. I tip my head towards Pierre and pull a face. Shawna laughs.
“Oh, don’t worry about Pierre. His English is a bit on the rusty side. He can converse enough to instruct, but otherwise, nope. It’s just as well really because we spend most of our time shagging anyway. How about you, any boyfriends back home?”
“Not for a while,” I say. “The last boyfriend I had dropped me as soon as he met my mother. It hadn’t been a planned meeting, she just happened to come into the pub we were in one night. A half-arsed attempt at giving my boyfriend a lap dance then puking on his jeans pretty much ended our relationship.”
“Ah, fuck. Your mum’s like that, huh?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well look, you not having a boyfriend is pretty perfect actually. You’ll meet loads of hot men at the resort. Just you wait until later. I hope you’ve brought some clubbing outfits?”
I pull a face, getting away from my mother’s grasp had been foremost on my mind, clubbing not so much. My suitcase is packed full of thermal underwear, winter clothes, and thick, woolly jumpers. None of which are suitable for clubbing in.
“Don’t worry about it. I have plenty of stuff you can borrow. Once you’ve unpacked and settled in, I’ll come to yours with a couple of outfits. We can get ready together.”
“Um, okay then,” I say, too polite to decline her offer. I don’t really go clubbing or dress up for that matter. I’m a jean and t-shirt kind of girl.
“That’s settled then,” Shawna says, unhooking her seat-belt and pointing to the front of the car. “You mind?”
“Sure,” I say.
A moment later she’s climbing into the front seat and chatting to Pierre. I am fascinated with how they converse, seeing as neither one of them appear to know what the other is saying but were happy in each other’s company, nonetheless. I watch how they keep touching each other as though they cannot bear to be without physical contact. That kind of closeness is completely alien to me. I mean, I’ve had sex before, yes. But frankly, it wasn’t anything to write home about. A quick fumble, then a wham bam thank you, Ma’am, that is about the extent of my sexual experience. Basically, all my previous lovers were dicks who, funnily enough, thought with their dicks. I sigh and spend the rest of the journey watching the scenery roll by as the mountains of Alpe d’Huez loom larger the nearer we get.
It isn’t much longer until we reach the resort. Pierre stops outside a beautiful wooden chalet that’s three times the size of my terrace house back home. We had to drive through the resort to get to it, and it is set back from all the other chalets which are further down the hill and closer to the centre of the resort. It is surrounded by alpine trees covered in a layer of snow, their branches straining under the weight of it. The chalet has a wraparound porch and large glass windows on the ground floor. There are covered balconies on the upper floors, all of which have a thick layer of snow settled upon them. The nearest chalet is at least five-hundred yards away. It is beautiful, secluded, but close enough to the slopes to be in a prime location.
“This is you,” Shawna says, jumping out of the car.
I look up at the chalet in amazement, my breath steaming up the window. Pierre opens the door then holds his arm out grinning at the stunned look on my face.
“This is where I’ll be staying?” I say, gobsmacked.
Shawna laughs. “Yup, you’ve got the high end of the market. This is a four double-bed chalet with sauna, steam room and pool. It’s stunning. I mean I’m pretty jealous right about now.”
“There must be some kind of mistake. Why would they give me this chalet? I’m new, I might mess it up.” Worry threads through me at the possibility that I am in over my head. I mean, clearly, whoever had paid to stay in this chalet must have a lot of money and therefore probably had high expectations of their chalet girl. I could cook okay, and clean, but I am no chef.
“Don’t be daft. You just need to make sure you keep the place tidy, cook a good fry up and sort out the evening meal. Come on up,” Shawna says climbing the steps to the front porch. She points to the case and Pierre picks it up for me. I puff out my cheeks and breathe out slowly, following them through the front door.
The inside of the chalet is just as lovely as the outside and it is as big as I imagined it would be. The whole ground floor is open plan, with a stainless-steel kitchen taking up one side, and a beautifully decorated sitting room with an open fire, a chocolate brown L-shaped sofa and oversized armchair on the other. The warm wood of the kitchen table and chairs complement the wooden walls and floor of the chalet, making the place feel welcoming and cosy.
“Right, well here you are. Pierre and I are going to shoot off. Your room is in the basement next to the pool. As accommodation goes us chalet girls don’t get anything near as nice as what you’ve got down there. If I were you, I would totally make use of all the good stuff before your family arrives. Oh, and your room has an en-suite. You’ve totally lucked out, girl. Let’s just hope the family you get aren’t arseholes!” Shawna laughs, gives me a brief hug then pulls on Pierre’s hand. “Come on, let’s leave Louisa to settle in.” She turns to me briefly and smiles. “We’re going back to mine for a bit. I’ll be back later, about eight. I’ll bring you something to wear. You look about my size.” She pulls me into a brief hug then leaves, Pierre in tow.
I lean against the door and let the beauty of the chalet sink in, this place just about exceeds all my expectations, and I have a good four hours until Shawna returns. Time to check out the rest of the place. I let out a delighted squeal, all thoughts of home pushed firmly out of my mind.
CHAPTER FOUR
I sit in my dressing gown watching Shawna pull out a variety of skimpy outfits and chuck them on the bed next to me.
“How about this one? I love this dress. I pulled Pierre in it,” she says, holding up what appears to be two silver hankies tied together with string.
“Um, I think I might be a bit cold in that one,” I say diplomatically. Frankly, I would look like a slut, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Despite what she had said earlier, I am a little shapelier than her lean figure. Basically, I had tits and an arse, and I’d be falling out all over the place in that skimpy number.
“Hmm, I see what you mean. Although the club gets pretty steamy, you only really need your ski jacket to throw over you until you’re inside. Then you’ll be thanking me for making you wear something like this.”
“What about my legs?” I ask.
“What about your legs?” Shawna laughs. “You’ll get used to the cold, I promise.”
“Sure I will,” I say, not at all convinced.
“So, what are you going to wear then? If you want to pull, thermal underwear and jeans just aren’t going to cut it.” She taps her finger against her cheek, looking thoughtful. “Oh, I know. How about this t-shirt, and this mini skirt?”
I take my Pink Floyd t-shirt from her and shake my head at the mini skirt. “I’ll wear this t-shirt, with these,” I say picking up some black, fake leather, skinny jeans. They are the only thing she brought that is remotely normal looking. “And those,” I say, pointing to my trusty pair of biker boots.
She considers the outfit for a moment. “Well, I suppose it is sexy in a rock-chick kind of way. Hell, why not? But don’t blame me when you turn into a sweaty mess. You have been warned.”
I pull on the clothes, whilst Shawna makes herself at home sniffing my perfume and looking through the small amount of makeup I brought with me. I smudge on some kohl eyeliner to highlight my blue eyes, add a dash of lip gloss and I am done.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Shawna grins. “The boys are going to love you! God, I wished I could pull off a look like that. It totally suit
s you. You’re like Debbie Harry although a thousand times better looking.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Before heading to the club, we stop off at Shawna’s place for an hour to have a few glasses of red wine and to pick up a ski-pass she forgot to give me earlier. I take it, but don’t tell her that I’m not planning on doing any skiing. I can barely walk on the snow, let alone ski on it.
Another ten, treacherous minutes’ walk later we arrive at Le Carnaval club. It is not dissimilar to the other surrounding buildings, the only defining difference is a large neon sign that flashes red against the wooden façade. Out front is a large seating area where a load of people are congregating, drinking and smoking. Shawna spots Pierre and pulls me along. I try not to fall on my arse in front of the crowd.
“Hey everyone, this is Louisa, she’s staying in the Palace at the top of the hill.”
I hear a chorus of hello’s before they all turn back to their conversations.
“Palace?” I ask Shawna but she’s already gone over to a group of girls and is animatedly chatting away. They laugh and I wonder whether she is telling them stories about her sex-life. They were pretty amusing.
“That’s what the locals call it because it’s so posh,” a guy with smiling blue eyes says. He holds out his hand. “I’m Luke, good to meet you.”
I take his hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you too,” I say, but it comes out sounding weird because my teeth are chattering so much. He laughs.
“You’ll acclimatise soon enough. Want to go inside?”
“Sure,” I say. I give a little wave to Shawna and she gives me the thumbs up.
Inside, the club is a hell of a lot warmer than outside and it doesn’t take long for me to regret wearing fake leather trousers. After putting my coat in the cloakroom, Luke takes me to the bar and orders us both a pint of local beer. I don’t actually like beer, but I am too polite to refuse it and murmur my thanks instead. We sit on the barstools, chatting small talk and watching the crowd. He’s nice, but not really my type. For the next half-an-hour, he tells me how he arrived the same time as Shawna, that he has been coming to the resort every year for the last five years and that there are no better slopes to ski on in his opinion. I nod my head and smile at all the right times but find myself losing interest pretty quickly. While he drones on about the different slopes and their difficulty grades, my attention turns to the club interior.
The lighting in the club is dim, and the dance floor already heaving with scantily clad girls and sweaty men. There are swathes of red material hanging from the ceiling in folds, like the roof of a circus, and in each corner there are dancers dressed in outfits not dissimilar to what you would find people wearing at a carnival in Rio. I briefly wonder how they manage to move in them, let alone dance so freely.
I am just about to tell Luke I need the toilet when a cute redhead comes over and plonks herself on his lap. She throws me a territorial look and within seconds they start snogging. Feeling decidedly relieved and not in the least bit jealous, I hop off the seat in search of Shawna.
The club is bigger than I thought and I end up circling it a few times before spotting Shawna in a dark corner sitting astride Pierre. She is laughing hysterically at something he has just said. Half a second later they are kissing. I roll my eyes, take a long drink of my beer, and watch the throng of dancers from my spot at the edge of the dance floor.
“Can I get you another?” a deep voice says from behind me, making me jump.
“Shit,” I say spilling half the beer down my top. I turn around and look up into a pair of familiar green eyes. “You,” we both say simultaneously.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, the tone of my voice sharper than I intended.
He looks me up and down. His eyes lingering on my chest. “Pink Floyd, eh? I hadn’t pinned you for an alternative chick.”
I am immediately offended by his assumption. The fact that he is wearing a tight fitted black shirt and expensive looking jeans, his hair perfectly coiffed is exactly what I expected from him. “Funny,” I say waving my hand up and down at him. “I had you sussed from the moment I met you. There’s plenty of women here without any brain cells, so I guess this place is right up your alley.” I ignore the look of surprise on his face and peer around his shoulder. Walking towards us are his brothers, Max and Bryce. Bryce grins when he spots me, showing a set of perfect white teeth, and Max looks at me with one eyebrow raised, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, if it isn’t the Ice Queen,” he says.
“Well, if it isn’t the Three Brothers Dim,” I quip, watching the smiles fall from their faces. I down the rest of my beer and slam it on the table next to me. “Night boys,” I say, turning my backs on them. I can feel the heat of their gaze as I walk across the dance floor and up the stairs to get my coat. I don’t give them a second thought as I head out of the club and back to the chalet.
A few slippery minutes later I am back inside. The place is as I left it, aside from a mug tipped upside down on the draining board. Funny, I’m pretty sure I’d put everything away after I’d made myself tea and toast earlier. Shrugging, I head to the lower ground floor past the long glass wall, on the other side of which is the pool, sauna and steam room, and head into my room. I peel off my clothes, and despite the freezing walk back, a light sheen of sweat is covering my legs. I remind myself never to wear those leather trousers again. As I undress, an errant thought enters my head. Feeling decidedly rebellious, I grab a towel from my en-suite, wrap it around my body and head out into the pool area.
The pool itself has underwater lighting which highlights the expensive looking blue mosaic tiles, and the room is lit a soft pink giving the space a very exclusive spa-like feel. I walk across to the loungers and drop my towel on top of one, enjoying the warmth from the underfloor heating and the thrill of being naked. For a moment, I allow myself to imagine that the chalet is my own home and try not to squeal in excitement at how ridiculously happy that makes me feel. The locals were right, this place is a palace. I step down into the pool, the water is like a warm bath and I sink under the surface gratefully. Once acclimatised, I begin swimming lengths completely butt-naked. It is quite exhilarating. Up and down I swim, concentrating on how the water feels against my skin. I’ve always been good at swimming and had been on my school swim team. At least I was until I had to pull out in my last year due to mum becoming more of a problem. She would turn up at my swim meets pissed and almost always caused a scene. I dropped out through sheer embarrassment.
After a good half hour of doing laps, I decided to test my underwater swimming skills and dive underwater. I manage to make it from one side of the pool to the other in one breath. When my head breaks the surface, I am startled to find myself staring up at green-eyes.
“Well, hello again,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over my nakedness. My body finally catches up with my brain, and I attempt to cover myself.
“As much as I appreciate a naked woman as well as any man, do you mind telling me what you are doing in our chalet?”
My mouth pops open as my brain struggles to find an answer. Our chalet? Eventually, realisation dawns. “You’re my designated family?” I say, just as Max and Bryce step into the room. They stop talking as soon as they see me.
“Damn,” they say in unison.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I can explain,” I say, trying and failing to hide my naked body from the three men, who seem to be having way too much fun watching me squirm. In the end, I give up, figuring they’ve seen it all already. “Fuck it,” I murmur under my breath. Deciding I’m likely going home anyway, I walk up the steps totally starkers and grab my towel wrapping it around me.
All three men are looking at me with their mouths gaping open and I can’t help but feel secretly pleased by their reaction. I’m not normally this confident, but for some reason their arrogance pisses me off. I have these men marked; they love women and I am a woman. In this situation, I feel that my sexuality is the only
power I have. Somehow, I know that being coy will give them one over on me and for reasons completely unknown to me; I do not want to give them the satisfaction of making me squirm.
“Perhaps we misjudged you?” Max laughs. “Not so much the Ice-Queen now.”
“We didn’t even have to chat you up or buy you a drink to get your clothes off…” Bryce smirks as he swipes a hand through his shoulder length hair which is now hanging loosely around his face. “Really, there’s no need to leave on our account, we were just about to take a swim, weren’t we Hudson?”
I gape at Bryce, what a prick. If he thinks I am getting back in the pool with them, he’s got another thing coming.
Hudson shakes his head as if coming out of a daze. He looks at me, his green eyes stormy.
“I think you should get some clothes on then meet us back upstairs in the kitchen. We should talk.” With that, he turns to his brothers. “Upstairs, now,” he says, and they file out behind him.
I take a deep shuddering breath. What the actual fuck did I just do? My high quickly comes crashing to the ground when I realise I had just stood completely starkers in front of them all. I groan. One word pops into my head. Sacked. My mum will have a field day and Richard… Oh, god, Richard is going to be so disappointed.
Resigned, I go back to my room, pull on my tracksuit, pile my hair up in a messy bun, pack my bag then head upstairs to face the music.
“What have you got there?” Hudson asks as I walk into the kitchen. There is a pot of coffee percolating on the counter, with four mugs set out beside it. The three brothers are sitting around the kitchen island, apparently waiting for me.
“My suitcase. I’ll arrange for a cab to take me to the airport. I’ll just hang about there until I can get a flight back home,” I say, all fight gone out of me now.
Bryce gets up and walks around the island towards me.
“Give me that,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere. There’s heavy snowfall due. You wouldn’t be able to get a cab now even if you wanted to.” He places my bag back by the stairs, then sits back down on the stool. As he walks past I feel decidedly tiny against his tall frame.