Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  “How did you find out?”

  “Ally left me a message that Channing was going to do something stupid. The same day, Frost texted me a link to a local news station that briefly mentioned that Chance Ryder would be competing in Slopestyle. I don’t know too many other Chance Ryders from Aspen.” He laughed ruefully. We both did, remembering how his twin decided to impersonate him for the X Games.

  I listened to him but found myself becoming more and more distracted by the way the water was moving against his chest, lapping and crashing against the planes of his muscles and then drawing back to where his tanned nipples were visible for just a split second. He had both of his arms extended along the edge of the tub and the way he looked at me, I felt like he was using the Jedi Force to pull me to him.

  Crossing my legs—tightly—I tried to meet his gaze and remain unaffected. The alcohol was really doing its job well though. The world around me became less and less about what I saw and more and more about what I felt. My eyes drifted shut as I took a deep breath of the cold, yet steam-moistened air. And then my mind began to replay through the last night we’d spent in this hot tub and my legs began to drift apart again.

  “I was walking on the beach—one just at the start of Big Sur drive when her message came through. She sounded sad. I hate when she sounds sad. And when I looked up I was in front of this little shed where you could rent surf boards. There was a sun on it and it made me think of her.” As he spoke, I could hear his voice getting hoarser and I could feel his eyes on me—mostly on my tits as the water rose and fell precariously over them. “You’ll be happy to know that it wasn’t open so I didn’t go out.”

  “Mmm… good,” I moaned.

  “What are you thinking about, J-bird?”

  My eyes fluttered open. “Nothing.” Complete lie. His hands on me. His tongue inside of me. Water everywhere. “J-just about what you are t-telling me.”

  It was the most unnerving sensation—to be both burning and freezing at once.

  Hot and cold. Fire and Ice.

  “You want to know what I’m thinking about?” he asked.

  “I can take a guess.”

  “Oh yeah? Are you sure?” His hands slipped down underneath the water. It began to pulse up and down—much more than what the jets were doing. My eyelids became heavy, knowing he was stroking himself beneath the surface.

  Gulp.

  “Well, your eyes seem to be trying to see beneath the surface,” I replied shakily.

  He grinned devilishly and said, “So are yours.”

  And then he stood up and my breath caught and froze in my throat watching the water running off of him, back down to the warmth below before they became a frosted trail over his chest. The water stopped less than an inch below the waistline of his trunks. Not low enough for me to see what he’d been working up a minute ago, but low enough for my pulse to trip over itself hoping for more.

  He stepped in front of me and it took every ounce of will to tip my head up.

  “Stand up, Jessa.”

  “Why? It’s freezing.” My mouth was so dry.

  His hand slid through the water and I gasped as he pinched my nipple. “Don’t think your tits can get any harder, J-bird.”

  Literally, the parts of me beneath the surface of the water were burning up from its heat; the parts above the water though were cold—so cold that droplets of steam collecting in my hair froze in the temperature outside. But more than that, the way he looked at me had my body burning with desire and my heart icy with dread. This man had the power to destroy me. He had that power because I’d given it to him—because I wanted to give it to him.

  It was time to accept the fact that I wanted to be destroyed. At least it was going to burn so good before it hurt so bad.

  Looking up at him from underneath my eyelids, I smiled and leaned forward in a slow attempt to stand… and then I gave into the one thing on my mind from the second that eight-pack appeared in front of my face.

  My tongue touched just above the waistline of his swimsuit and then began its journey sliding up over the hard ridges of his stomach, along his sternum, and then between his pecks. This is what happened when I got too close to him; I overdosed on any fantasy that came to mind.

  Now, I was standing and there was hardly any space between us—mostly steam that I was pretty sure was coming off of us and not the water.

  His eyes held mine, one hand clamping my waist while the other trailed up to my breast. Pinching the fabric, he yanked it an inch to the side, exposing my heavy tit and tight nipple to the cold. Still, he held my gaze.

  “Always a fucking tease,” he growled, moving the fabric back and forth from one side of my nipple to the other. Each movement stoked the fire that was inside of me, sending bursts of sparks and embers throughout my body

  I was panting and if he couldn’t hear it, he could definitely see it in the puffs of steam that came from my mouth. They were the same puffs that came from his. In sync, what he breathed out, I breathed in; what I breathed out, he breathed in. Only it was the same thing. Desire. The only thing our bodies survived on.

  “What are you thinking about?” I rasped. I couldn’t take the need in his eyes anymore, I had to hear it.

  Tell me how far I’m going to fall. Tell me how hard it’s going to hurt.

  Tell me… I’ll fall apart anyway.

  His head bent down, his cheek against mine for a moment before he began to bite his way along my jawline to my ear—his hand still rubbing the suit over my hot, aching nipple.

  I moaned into the silence and the sound was what he had been waiting for. “Everything that I’m going to do to you. Everything that I’ve dreamt of doing to you. Fuck, how I’ve missed your ass.” I quivered against him as the hand on my waist slipped down and began to toy with the back edge of the bikini bottom, one finger dipping underneath and into the crevice between my ass cheeks.

  I groaned. So, this is where we were headed. We always searched for the edge—he and I. We always took everything to the next step—the one that wasn’t completely sound or solid or safe. But it was the one that promises the most incredible experience if you get it right; it’s the only one that really lets you enjoy the ride.

  “You think it’s cold out here? I’m going to fuck your ass so goddamn hard that your orgasm alone could be responsible for global-fucking-warming.”

  “Chan—“ His mouth attacked mine—already open and waiting—and those embers inside of me combusted into full-on flames.

  Tongue against tongue. Angry. Hard. Demanding. It was an interrogation—how much did I want him? How much was I going to take?

  The hand that had been resting right at the base of my spine now gripped hard into the flesh of my ass—the jet that had been blowing against me effectively turning the bottoms of my suit into a thong. His other hand skated up along my already goosebumped flesh to the back of my neck, untying the suit with a flick of his wrist—the wet material briefly sticking to my skin before dropping and completely exposing my chest to him. My back arched, pushing my heavy breasts to him—an offering. A plea.

  He was right. If it was cold out here, I didn’t feel it.

  All I felt was him.

  His mouth devoured mine. His hand kneaded my breast, thumbing over my nipple that had already been tortured beyond reason.

  Some people feel passion as a wave that builds and builds and builds inside of them. Not me. Not with him. With Chance there was an all-out war that happened inside my body from the second he touched me between hot and cold. Not mild—but the extreme versions that were both pleasurable and painful. Both too much, yet not enough. His touch heated me beyond all reasonable description; in the morning, I wouldn’t have bruises, I would have burn marks. Everywhere he wasn’t touching was cold—and not because we were outside and it was below freezing. No, the cold those cells felt came from internally—it came from the part of me that withered and died without his touch.

  “Cold yet, J-bird?” he growled against
my neck, his lips ravaging a path down to my collarbone. Teeth, tongue, lips—each marking their own path down to my chest.

  “Burning,” I gasped as both his hands grabbed my tits, squeezing almost to the point of pain before flicking over my nipples.

  “Bend.” The slightest pressure against my chest had me bending back, my hands sliding back against the edge of the tub to support myself as my chest arched up towards him. The movement now pressing my hips against him—and his cock.

  God. I bit back a groan as my core clenched so hard I thought I might pull a muscle.

  Was that even possible to do inside of your vagina?

  I knew all about pulling muscles and in my professional opinion, the answer to this was definitely yes.

  “You know how many times I’ve dreamt about these tits?” His mouth licked and nipped along the top of one swell, seemingly in sync with the pounding of my heart.

  Probably as many times as I’d dreamt about the sight before me.

  Hazarding a glance at my own peril, I watched him move over my skin, his beard rubbing first over my flesh—pre-emptive sensitization—before his lips followed. Vaguely, I heard him swear before his lips closed over my nipple.

  My head fell back and the moans that slipped from my mouth became a symphony in the silence. He wasn’t kind or gentle. It had been eight years. He devoured my tit accordingly.

  I barely heard the splash of the water before I felt his hand pulling the bikini bottoms to the side and two fingers pushed inside of me, immediately curling into the spot where the fires of hell broke loose inside of my body.

  “Chance…”

  I was too close, too fast. Like drinking four shots of vodka in four minutes instead of over four hours, I’d skipped right over the stages of being buzzed and slowly disintegrating inhibitions and was full-on, disgustingly drunk on him and this moment.

  I felt him rubbing his cock against my leg and I knew that tonight, I wasn’t the only one walking away satisfied.

  My breath caught… and caught again.

  “Chance… I can’t…” his fingers flicked inside me once more as his teeth bit down on my nipple.

  I was going to come—and in a way that my body hadn’t for years.

  And then everything stopped—his fingers, his mouth, the world—and air rushed into my lungs. What happened? Was he doing this to punish me? There was no way…

  My eyelids peeled open to meet blue flames. “You can’t… without me.” His groan was tortured as I pressed my sex against him. I literally knew nothing else but how much I needed this man right now.

  “Over.” His instruction was more like a curse as he spun my body, my hands still resting on the edge of the tub only now my ass was pressed against the hard length of him.

  I wanted to see him. To see the hard length that I’d swallowed the other night. I wanted to see it swollen and tie-dyed red and purple with the need to explode inside of me. But I also needed him inside of me, so I obeyed.

  His hands rubbed over my ass cheeks, kneading them for a moment before he ripped at the ties holding the scrap of a swimsuit together. Tugging it off of me, he whipped it behind him. The splash of the water where it landed blended in with the sound of the jets.

  His hands gripped my ass and spread my cheeks apart. He kneaded the flesh before rasping, “Anyone else?”

  My lower lip was going to look like a Kardashian’s in the morning the way I kept biting it. Who needs a lip kit when you have teeth and two tons of pent-up sexual desire?

  “No.”

  His groan of satisfaction set music to the movement of my body.

  And that point was that I was all his.

  Again, the paradox of the Hanged Man flashed in my mind. This time, it was somehow in the pain that I found pleasure.

  I’d slept with guys in Texas—at first to prove that I was over Chance. Then, to prove that I no longer had anything to prove. But in those relatively minimal encounters, I’d never let anyone in there; Chance had been the only one to ever claim that.

  Ok, maybe more than just that.

  His fingers slid along the seam of my ass, trailing all the way down to catch a gush of desire from my sex, massaging it into my folds before pushing two fingers inside of me for a second before they were gone. “Next time,” he promised hoarsely.

  His hand slid back up and his thumb paused over my dark little hole. My face felt like it was on fire having my ass spread open before him. I felt the tip of his finger push inside of me.

  “You feel how tight you are here, J-bird?”

  That slight invasion made the knots of desire inside of my tummy quickly unravel, the rope of restraint rapidly slipping from my grip, rocketing me toward my orgasm.

  “So goddamn tight I’m going to fucking lose my mind inside you.” My mind was already lost.

  The hand on my ass disappeared and a second later I felt the blunt head of his erection taking the place of his finger, rubbing back and forth along my ass as he fists himself. My whole body shivered in anticipation—this was going to hurt so good.

  His fingers slid from my lower back around to my front, my stomach shaking as they glided down beneath the water and into my folds.

  Fire and ice.

  My tits should have been freezing—hanging out in the frigid air—but fire rolled through me as his fingers found their way back inside of me, pushing in deep before slipping out and rubbing around my clit.

  “Are you ready for me, J-bird?” I could only groan in response as his fingers slid inside of me, hitting my G-spot again. “Fuck.”

  I didn’t know how I was still holding on to reality until all movement stopped—the calm before the storm. And then I felt it—I felt him begin to push against my dark, tiny entrance. The water helped—and the fact that my shaking arms still managed to serve as a brace—but I was still tight and he was still impossibly large.

  I whimpered feeling the hard thickness of him breaching the compact ring of muscles. I shifted and squirmed at the struggle that had him breathing in loud pants. One hand digging into my waist, the other with its fingers buried inside me, kept me steady.

  It burned to the point of pain. But then his fingers rubbed on my G-spot again and that pain became the most indescribable pleasure as I feel a distinct stinging stretch of my muscles as he peeled through them. The pain became more. More of what, I couldn’t say—just more. I turned my head into my shoulder and bit down on the skin.

  “Almost, gorgeous,” I heard him reassure me as if he could hear my thoughts through my moans. His endearment shook through my whole body and I surrendered to the pain.

  “Holy fuck, J-bird…” He was angry—angry that I felt so good. “You are so goddamn tight.”

  The fingers that steadied my waist hinted at what was about to happen when their nails dug into my flesh a second before he slammed all the way inside of me.

  I cried out at the invasion. It was a fullness that could only be described by incoherent, unconscious, and unstoppable noises—like those from a child who is trying to make sense of and give name to something that he doesn’t understand.

  For a second, I felt the cold edge of the tub underneath my fingers and then the sensation was gone again. I stayed perfectly still, impaled in every sense by the moment.

  “So fucking perfect…” His coarse whisper floated over me like the barest of snowflakes just before an avalanche.

  And then the avalanche descended.

  He pounded into me—my ass, my sex. Christ, he claimed everything. I stopped breathing. I had no room for air in my body at this moment.

  The air around me wasn’t cold enough. It blew against my skin, trying to freeze me over. Two fingers, then three, twisting again and again against my G-spot as he thrust his cock all the way inside of me. The sound of the water sloshing over the edge of the Jacuzzi a rhythmic soundtrack to Chance destroying everything below my waist.

  I no longer felt the individual sensation of his cock sliding inside of my ass or the way hi
s fingers rubbed the inside of my sex. Everything rolled into one—a snowball of pure sex that did what only snowballs do: it snowballed.

  And then it rolled me right off of a cliff and exploded into fireworks.

  My scream sublimated into the silence as I came. So much pleasure my body wanted to—tried to—jerk to relieve it, but I couldn’t because I was pinned to him. Instead, muscles I hadn’t learned about in school clenched around his fingers and his dick. And it proved to be too much for the both of us.

  Chance lasted one more distorted second before his groan harmonized with mine and, in spite of the warm water all around me, I felt the hot jets of his release deep inside of me as he came.

  Where we lived on the outskirts of Aspen wasn’t too populated and where this house was especially, provided the kind of seclusion that let you see every star in the night sky and understand the true meaning of profound silence.

  Minute after minute ticked by where I would have sworn that our orgasms had propelled us in front of the speed of sound. Everything was thumping: the blood in my veins, my heart in my chest, Chance inside of me, his breath against my back.

  I enjoyed the silence because the silence was safe.

  “Holy fucking… fuck, J-bird,” he rasped, his groan like nails on a chalkboard as he slid out of me—first his fingers, then his dick. Water rushed around me… in me…

  Was it gross to think about the fact that there was now a different kind of liquid bubbling through the hot tub? Yes. But it was also just plain hot.

  I’d clean it later.

  I peeled my hands off the edge of the tub, my skin somewhat frozen to the plastic. Still, I wasn’t cold.

  I turned slowly to face him, his smirk growing as my eyes dropped to watch him tuck his dick back into his swimsuit underneath the murky water.

  “Told you that ass of yours was mine, J-bird. Mine to fuck. Mine to sleep in. Mine to use as a fucking cock-warmer out here in the freezing cold.” His fingers gripped my chin and locked my attention on him.