by Jewel E. Ann
“Roe!” I squealed. Running away from his naked body (and shampoo head) chasing me into the bedroom. “The bed! Nooo!” I protested while giggling as he pinned my clothed body to the mattress with his wet torso. “You’re going to get shampoo—ROE!” Wrinkling my nose, I arched my back when he rubbed suds along the side of my face, down to my neck. After he finished getting dirty with me in the cleanest way possible, leaving me naked on a mess of wet, soapy sheets, he sauntered back into the bathroom, shut the door, and started singing Sinatra’s “My Way.”
Weeks and then months passed, and it became impossible to remember what life was like before Ronin. It wasn’t that I lacked happiness before him. I had family and friends, a job I loved, and all the best horror movies on Netflix. Wood still got chopped and hot chocolate was consumed by the fire. All the same colors painted my story; they just weren’t as vibrant.
“He’s taking me skiing.” I frowned looking in the mirror at my soft pink bridesmaid dress while the seamstress pinned the bottom.
Lila snorted, sipping champagne, perched in a white velvet chair in the two-story library of the Porter mansion outside of Denver. “I’m jealous. Jealous that you’re going skiing while I’m drowning in wedding details. And jealous that he gets to watch you slide on your ass down the mountain. Do you see the jealousy on my face?” She circled her champagne flute in front of her face as she grinned. “Besides, there’s been snow on the ground for a month, and you’ve been dating him—or just screwing him, I’m not sure which—for three months. Three months! I can’t believe you’re just now going skiing with him. Graham’s already skied with him twice.”
“It gets worse, Lila.”
The seamstress slipped off my dress and handed me a plush white robe.
“Worse?” She cocked her head to the side.
My nose wrinkled as I stole her champagne and chugged the rest of it. “His parents are coming to Aspen … for the winter.”
“Oh … that puts a damper on your kinky time.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not talking about that. They’re staying with friends. His dad has an ex-teammate who owns a home in Aspen. A big home. Well … not Porter big, but big in comparison to Ronin’s condo and my cabin. My concern is that his parents both ski. His dad has Olympic gold medals for god’s sake. And their son is dating me!”
“Oh, so you are in fact dating. I wasn’t sure. It just seemed like a lot of sex. Kinky sex.”
“Shut up.” I smirked.
“I will not shut up. Not until you start locking your door to your house and to your lab. Four times in three months! I’ve walked in on the two of you four times! I know Ronin’s bare ass better than I know Graham’s. I know you call him Roe, but only in private. You moan it when his head’s between your legs … when he has you tied up. Seriously, I had no idea you were in to that kind of stuff.”
My cheeks bloomed with embarrassment. “That happened once.” (Twice. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.) “I joked about his new scarf that seemed a mile long and asked him what he planned to do with it. Tie me up? And so he did. It was a scarf. Not chains and whips. And I’m sorry you happened to walk in on us that time. We now double-check for locked doors.” Most of the time …
New romance was the best drug, and my addiction felt incurable.
“And you can’t say a word about it because you have no room to talk, Ms. Threesome.”
Her face turned a bit red too. We agreed to never discuss that weird night in Vancouver, but I had to make a tiny mention of it to keep her from judging me too harshly for a few unlocked doors and scarf play.
“Four.” She cleared her throat, ignoring my threesome reference. “I’ve walked in on you guys four times. But it’s fine. If I’m honest, I have some of those images tucked into my mind, and I pull them out to use when Graham feels obligated to have sex but not in the mood to do the whole seduction act.”
“You picture my naked boyfriend so you can get off?” I blinked hard several times.
Lila shrugged. “Only occasionally. You good with that?” She smirked. “I mean … you’ve actually had sex with my fiancé, so can a few innocent images of Ronin pounding into my BFF really be such a big deal?”
“Depends … am I still in the image, or do you cut me out and put yourself in the picture?”
“Nope. It’s all you, babe.”
On a slow nod, I returned a half grin. My breasts … she remembered our night in Vancouver. “Then I’ll allow it.” My partial grin faded. “Why the hell would Graham feel ‘obligated’ to have sex with you? What’s going on? Seriously, you haven’t even made it down the aisle yet.”
Lila waved me off. “It’s nothing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s good. Amazing like it’s always been. But now that he’s fully committed to running for governor, he’s dealing with more stress. And sometimes I feel neglected, which turns into sympathy sex. And let’s just say … sympathy sex sucks.”
“Unless you’re imagining Ronin’s naked backside.”
Lila pressed her lips together, but they didn’t hide her grin. “Unless that.”
“Mmm. Yeah, well … I’m going to get dressed and head home. Wish me luck. I hope I don’t end up on crutches for your wedding.”
“Oh god! Don’t say that.”
I hugged my best friend and kissed her cheek. Lila was my everything. Her happiness was my happiness. Our successes and failures in life were so tightly woven together that I swore we felt each other’s epic moments before actually sharing them.
“Hey, pretty girl!”
I glanced up after locking my Jeep. “Noah!”
He gave me a big hug. “I heard you’re making a few runs today.”
“Did you also hear I’m the world’s worst skier?” I grinned when he released me. “It’s been nice knowing ya. I’m sure we won’t see each other much after Ronin dumps me. And he will dump me because our incompatibility is about to be on full display. Tell Tami I’d love to still get together for wine even when Ronin and I are no longer together.”
Noah pulled off his beanie and scratched his full head of salt and pepper hair while giving me a booming belly laugh. “Oh, darling. I’ve seen you two together too many times. You can’t fool me. I’m waiting for the wedding invitation. Break up? Yeah, right.”
I blew out a long breath and slipped on my hot pink ski jacket over my white, gray, and hot pink snow pants. “Time will tell.”
Yes. Time would tell.
My stomach churned, toxic with nerves, already feeling the embarrassment. Ronin met me at the bottom of an “easy” slope, wearing a grin that set my whole body aflame.
Damn!
I gawked at my sexy man in his black and red gear, polarized glasses, and mussed black hair sticking out beneath his hat.
“Evelyn …” He strutted toward me in his ski boots, a stiff but no less confident gait. Before I could spew off my last-minute pleas to make my case for canceling our outing, he wrapped me in his arms, lifting me off the ground, and kissed me thoroughly.
One of his troller buddies whistled a catcall.
Ronin grinned, ending our kiss. “How was the dress fitting?” He set me on my feet in my clunky boots. I owned my gear because Graham bought it for me years ago before he gave up on teaching me to ski. I used it several times a year to appease Lila when she wanted to drag me up the slopes for “fun.”
“The fitting was fine. Do you ever have sex with me out of sympathy? Because you feel like you should maybe when I want it, but in truth you’re distracted and not really wanting it?”
His head drew backward. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Just a question.” I shrugged.
“Evie …” He angled his body away from onlookers and pressed my hand to his crotch. “I’m hard as fuck just from kissing you. So, no … I’ve never not wanted to have sex with you. Why would you ask me that?”
“No reason.” I kissed the angle of his jaw.
“There has to be a
reason.” He leaned back, tipping my chin up with his gloved finger.
My nose wrinkled. “It’s something Lila said about Graham. I’ll tell you more later.”
Ronin screwed his lips to the side. “Okay. Later. Now we see just how horrible you are at this. Something tells me you’ve overplayed your lack of skiing skills.”
He locked into his skis and helped me into mine.
I started to fall to the side. When he caught me, I gave him a tight-lipped grin. “You’ve been warned. And I’m certain after you witness this catastrophe that is me, you will never get a hard-on for me again.”
“I’m going to stick my hard-on in your mouth later, if you don’t stop saying stupid shit like that.”
I liked Ronin’s dirty mouth. I knew I’d miss it when he broke up with me in approximately thirty minutes, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I shrugged a silent “we’ll see.” It was about fifteen yards to the lift, and I made three attempts to fall on the way. Each time Ronin hooked an arm around my waist and kept me upright. How did he balance himself and me? I usually took down anyone who tried to save me: Graham … Lila … a ski instructor they hired to teach me a few things several winters earlier.
A lost cause.
“Hey, Jim.” Ronin nodded at the liftie as the moving bench scooped us up.
“Have fun!” Jim replied.
“So far so good.” Ronin rested his hand on my leg and gave it a squeeze.
“You should radio ahead and tell them to be ready to stop the lift when I wipe out getting off it. Because I do … Every. Single. Time.”
“Not on my watch.” Another leg squeeze. He was so damn sure of himself.
I feared I would emotionally break him that day—when Superman discovered tragedies were beyond his control. And I would be one of those as soon as we reached the top.
Only … I was wrong.
At the top, he hooked my waist, literally carrying me off the lift, down the tiny slope to a small flat area before the run. A green one. Green was easy. For some people. Not for me. Ronin slid one of his skis between mine, bringing us chest to chest.
“Ready?” He kissed me, palming my ass to keep me steady.
Would it be the last time he kissed me like that? I dropped my poles and wrapped my arms around his neck.
He chuckled. “Baby, hold on to your poles. Okay?” He slid my goggles down over my eyes, and then he retrieved my poles for me.
“Duck walk like this.” He pointed his tips into a V to show me, coaching me over to the start of the run.
I slanted my skis into a V. I’d played that game before. I knew the rules. I knew how it ended.
“We’re just going to snowplow. Okay?”
I returned a toothy grin until the cold air hurt my teeth. He was super cute. Poor guy should have invited Lila and Graham to ski with him.
“This can’t be any fun for you.” I turned my skis into a snowplow.
Ronin flipped around in front of me. “Doing my favorite thing with my favorite person? What’s not to love about that?”
“I’m going to ruin your favorite thing for you. And why are you backward?”
“I’m going to guide you down the hill. Catch you if you start to fall.”
“You can’t ski backward down the hill.” I frowned.
“I can. I can do a lot of things on skis. Let’s go.” He coaxed me forward.
I moved two feet before I started to fall. And as promised, he had me. We did this exhausting replay halfway down the run.
“Hold up, baby.” Ronin glanced toward the fence, and the skier who plowed into it. “I’m going to check on them. Move to the side and take a seat. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He guided me to the side of the run. I collapsed onto my butt, skis off to my right. Ronin checked on the other skier, and several minutes later, he started talking into his walkie-talkie. I realized it could take a while, so I removed my skies. One of them wouldn’t come off easily, so I twisted, pulled, and rammed my pole into it harder, and something snapped, but it finally came off.
Bye, bye …
There it went, down the slope without me. I broke the brake in the process of forcing my boot out of the binding. Classic move on my part.
“Shit.” I cringed, diving for it, but it was too late.
After a few minutes, another troller arrived with a sled. They loaded up the injured skier, and the troller took him down the hill.
“Evelyn … where is your other ski?” Ronin surveyed the immediate area as he walked toward me, carrying his own skis over his shoulder.
“I think I did something to the brake when I took it off.”
He slid his glasses to the tip of his nose, squinting down the hill. “Huh …” His lips twisted, and he nodded slowly, not appearing the least bit mad or exhausted like Graham did when I skied with him and Lila.
No lectures.
No eye-rolling.
Just an easy nod. A non-verbal “Okay then.” Ronin spoke into his walkie-talkie again, requesting a Model 100. I had no idea what that meant. Probably a new girlfriend.
“Sorry.” I frowned.
“For what?” He dropped to his knees in front of me, resting his hands on my legs.
“For the confirmation that your favorite person can’t do your favorite thing.”
Ronin smirked, pulling off his stocking cap. I wanted to tackle him and tear off his clothes. Seriously … he was so damn sexy with that thick chaotic hair, those sunglasses, and a spectacular smile.
“I lied about that. You’re my favorite person, but skiing is not my favorite thing. It comes in second. You do my favorite thing, and baby … you do it better than anyone.”
“Pfft …” My embarrassment and vulnerability wouldn’t allow me to entertain the idea that I was better than anyone at anything.
He smiled over my shoulder. “Thank you.”
I glanced back at the woman in red bringing a toboggan.
“She okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Vanessa, this is my girlfriend, Evelyn. She lost her ski.”
Vanessa laughed. “Happens.”
Ronin clasped my hand and pulled me up. “Hop on, my lady.”
“You’re taking me down the mountain? Gah! How embarrassing.” I climbed into the sled.
“Drinks later? There are six of us going.” Vanessa ruffled Ronin’s messy hair.
Why? Why did she touch him? And why did it bother me? I was the hug queen who thrived on human touch, always physical with my affection. But apparently, I had trouble with it after being reduced to an incompetent skier in front of dark wavy-haired Vanessa. I bet she was an amazing skier.
“Drinks?” he asked me as he secured a strap over my lap.
“Sure.” I sighed, punctuating my displeasure of the situation with a frown. “That I can do.”
He grinned, dropping a quick kiss on the tip of my nose before standing and locking into his skis. “What time?”
“In about an hour?”
“Great! Thanks, Vanessa.”
I managed to murmur a thank you as well. Thank you for being so pretty. A good skier. And ruffling Ronin’s hair. I loved it when other women ran their fingers through it.
Dammit! Knock it off, Evelyn!
We made our way down the slope, finding the runaway ski. Then we were greeted at the bottom with two more concerned patrollers.
“Lost her ski. No big deal.” Ronin helped me out of the toboggan.
My ego covered its eyes in embarrassment while I put on a brave face with a friendly smile.
“Well, that was fun.” I couldn’t help the way my entire body sagged inward. Yes, it was possible to pout with your whole body.
“Come here. Wanna see something cool?”
I shook my head.
“Yes, you do.” He propped up our skis and flipped me up over his shoulder.
“Ronin!”
“Stop pouting!” He smacked my ass while strutting about twenty yards over from the end of our run. “You l
ike to watch, so here you go.” He deposited me on my feet as skiers came down a hill dotted with sliding boxes and rails.
I grinned. Yeah, I liked to watch.
“I’m going up. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“Going up? To do that?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Yes.” He sauntered off without looking back.
I returned my attention to the skiers sliding along the rails and boxes, some more flashy with their turns and dismounts. A few failing to land at all—except on their asses.
About fifteen minutes later, my guy came down the hill.
“Slow down,” I whispered to myself.
Nope. He didn’t slow down. Ronin jumped onto one rail, flying off with a lot of air time, and then he was right back on the second rail. Finishing with a box, he spun once in the middle before landing perfectly back onto the run. The cockiest grin took up residence on his face as he came straight toward me.
“Stop!” I flinched, stumbling back a step as he shifted to the side, skidding to a dramatic halt mere inches from me. “Really?” I punched his arm. “You never mentioned you can do tricks on jibs.”
He shrugged, removing his skis. “Now you know.”
“I’m taking my loser ass home.” I stomped toward my skis.
“I’ve got your shit, grumpy. Just head toward your Jeep.”
When we reached my Jeep, I sat sideways on the driver’s seat while Ronin secured my skis to the rack.
“I think it’s your attitude. If you start believing you can ski, I think you’ll find your body will cooperate.” He removed my ski boots and tossed them in back while I slid on my snow boots.
“Yes. I think it’s all in my head.” I grunted a laugh, starting my Jeep.
“Want me to pick you up for drinks?”
“No.” I tried to keep my bottom lip from swelling into a full-on pout. “I’ll grab a ride since I don’t intend to be under the legal limit when I leave the bar. And I don’t want you to have to be the DD either since tomorrow is your day off.”
“Cool. That means we get a little drunk together, then I fuck some sense into you for your pouty attitude. Good plan.” He smothered me with a hard kiss to make his point.
“I’m not pouting.” Okay, I couldn’t even say it without sounding pissy. Clearly, I needed a drink or five.