Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I stuck my poles in the snow. “So what you’re saying is that we’re alone for the first time since…” Flames rushed up my cheeks. “And you want to use this time to ski.”
He moved behind me, his skis outside mine, and he brought his mouth to my ear, our helmets lightly touching. “The first time since I put my head between your thighs and licked you until you came?” he whispered.
“Weston.” Heat flooded my entire body.
“That’s what happened, right?” He tugged my earlobe between his teeth. “If I only get you once, Calliope, then there’s not going to be any room for shyness.”
My lungs filled with a shuddering breath. “And if you keep talking like that, we’ll melt the snow on this entire mountain.”
He turned my head, angled his, and kissed me. Long, slow, thorough strokes of his tongue had me clutching him in a matter of seconds. “I’m not against that either.” He pulled away with another soft kiss. “Though, we’re not exactly alone. Jules is over there running the lift for us,” he reminded me.
“Right.” I shook my head. “Because it’s completely logical to shut down an entire mountain so you can teach your…your roommate how to ski.”
“First, I didn’t shut down the mountain. I asked two lifties to run the lift an hour before opening for the day. Two, if she saw me kiss you, then I highly doubt she thinks you’re just my roommate.”
“Not helping!” I stared down the hill of death. “And how is this the easiest slope we have?”
“You’re going to be okay,” he promised me. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“And if I land on my ass?” I cocked a brow at him.
He lowered my goggles so they covered my eyes. “Then I’ll kiss it and make it all better later.”
“Stop distracting me with your sexual promises and your….you-ness.”
“But it’s fun. And I think I remember someone telling me I needed to smile more.” He angled his skis, pushing the fronts together to form a triangle. “This is a snowplow.”
“I know it’s a snowplow,” I grumbled. “Just because I don’t ski doesn’t mean I don’t live here. I’ve watched Sutton, you know.”
“Okay, then you know it’s the easiest, slowest way to come down the hill. Pick up your poles.”
“Why didn’t you bring poles?” I grabbed mine by the handle.
“Because it’s the bunny slope. I don’t need poles. You don’t either, but you wanted them, so here we are.” He sounded so calm, so relaxed, like we weren’t about to hurl ourselves down a slippery sheet of groomed snow and call it fun. Like we weren’t pressed against each other.
I wanted him to feel just as frazzled, as distracted by me as I was by him.
“Now, we’re going to start down the hill, but instead of going straight, we’re going to cut across the slope side to side, turning at each end, okay?” His hands gripped my waist. “And I’m right here. We’ll pause about halfway down and see if you’re ready to try it on your own, and if you’re not, then that’s okay.”
So. Freaking. Calm. Didn’t anything ruffle Weston Madigan’s feathers?
“Let’s get this over with.” I was resigned to my fate. If I fell and took him down in the process, then that was his own fault.
“Okay.” He pushed forward and we leaned slightly to turn, slowly crossing the slope at an almost perpendicular angle. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”
“We’re not going down the hill,” I reminded him, holding onto my poles like they might save my life.
“All in good time, Callie. Just get comfortable.”
He surrounded me in every way. His skis caged mine, keeping them at the appropriate angle. His arms were locked around me, anchoring my back to his chest. His body curved around mine so his mouth was at my ear. I was totally and completely safe because Weston was in total, complete control.
I relaxed.
“Good, now we’re going to lift a little with our right foot and lean into the left so we turn.”
My ski skidded, but he kept me locked in tight, pivoting to face the direction we came. The turn had eaten up the most vertical distance we’d conquered.
“You’re doing great.” We glided across the slope, and Weston turned us so we traveled downward a little more, picking up a slight speed but nothing that froze me with fear. “Turn again.” We shifted our weight, the opposite of how we’d done the first time, and executed the turn. “Perfect. See? You didn’t even slip there.”
“Because you’re holding me,” I argued, but a smile pulled at my lips.
“Perks of the job.” We made it across the slope at the same steady speed. “There you go. Lean into it, but keep your balance. You’re in full control,” he told me as we turned again. His grip loosened slightly. “You have the athleticism for it. You just need to remember that you tell your skis where to go, not vice versa.”