Page 50 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“You don’t say?” She continues to wash the dishes, pretending she’s unaffected by me, but I know better. Her breathing is shallow and there’s color rising up her neck.
Work kept her busy this week, so we haven’t had any real alone time since the storm. To say I’ve been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to have her to myself would be an understatement. It was only one night, but the memories of her body fitted with mine make me ache for more. She sways her hips against me and it’s all I can do to hold in a moan. Giving up on any semblance of self-control, I slide my arms down hers into the sudsy water and grip her hands. She inhales sharply and releases the cup she’s holding with a plop.
Not caring that our hands and forearms are covered in bubbles, I spin her around and press her back against the counter. I weave a hand, bubbly fingers and all, into her hair and pull her lips to mine. Her arms weave around my neck, wet droplets sliding beneath the neckline of my shirt, and I shiver.
I can’t get enough of her. I can’t get close enough. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. My other hand slides down to cup her ass and pull her tighter. She moans, and I slip my tongue along her lips, then inside. She tastes like chocolate, and I want to devour her.
I release her hair, gripping her ass with both hands instead, and lift, spinning us. With a squeak of surprise and a soft giggle, I settle her on the counter across from the sink. It feels so good with her. So easy. How long has it been since intimacy with someone was like this? With Talia… no, I’m not going there rightnow. Not with Rory’s legs around my hips, her hand snaking between our bodies to where my belt is buckled.
“I can take you here or…” I mutter against her lips, feeling them twitch into a smile against mine.
“Bedroom… please,” she says between breaths.
She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Breck
One more week. We have just one more week before we board a plane back to Sydney, and I’m dreading it with every passing minute. The positive attitude I wear like a second skin is waning, and unfortunately Willow’s picking up on it.
What other option do we have though? We’ve been living in ignorant bliss, ignoring every bit of the chaos and heartbreak we left behind, but we have to pay the piper eventually.
“Let’s go snowboarding today, just you and me,” I say to Willow across the breakfast bar. She’s been scarfing down the pancakes I made with a scowl in place of her usual smile.
She shrugs and pushes her food around the plate.
“Come on, Bear, it’ll be fun.”
“Fine. Can we invite Rory?”
I button down the hurt, reminding myself she’s a young girl who, maybe, would rather hang out with another girl. Not that I don’t love hanging with Rory, but we need to talk about going home, and I don’t think that should happen with an audience or while we’re trapped in the house.
“She’s working today, but I bet we can see her later.”
“Fine.” She huffs again, her stomping footsteps reverberating all the way up the stairs.
“Dress warm!” I shout after her.
I hang my head and run my hands into my hair. I really need to get it cut. It’s nearly long enough I could pull it up, and that’s never been my vibe.
My phone vibrates against my leg and I’m greeted by a text from Wes.
Wes
Rory just sent me a couple of pictures from Sunday. They’re incredible. Thanks for giving her a hand.
I groan at the unbidden thought about how I gave her more than a hand that night. I want to punch myself. Keeping my relationship—well, friendship with benefits—with Rory separate from the one I have with Wes hasn’t been difficult with the seven thousand miles between us. When thrown together in this way though, I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. Sleeping with my best friend’s sister.Fuck. I hit my head against the counter a couple times before typing out a reply.
Me
It was my pleasure.
Willow has been talking about it nonstop for five days. She wants to be Rory’s permanent assistant.
Wes
Well, I appreciate it. I know she did too.
