Apres Ski

by Christie Butler

  Jud laughed. “I think they gave you too much of that pain medicine.”

  “Maybe.”

  Somehow he was able to fit the key in the lock and push the door open, all while his hands were full of…her. Kicking the door closed behind him, he settled her on a huge leather couch in the main room. Having never been at Jud’s place, she was curious to take it all in but she could barely keep her eyes open. It was all she could do to take off her coat. But she got a general impression of tidiness and light, despite the darkness outside.

  “Are you hungry? We could order a pizza or something,” Jud said.

  “Ugh, no. I’m not the least bit hungry.”

  “Okay.” He handed her a bottle of water and sat next to her on the couch.

  “Thanks.” She leaned her head back and made a weak attempt to unscrew the cap on her water bottle. She whined and handed him the bottle. As he took the bottle from her, his fingers brushed hers. His touch was like a current of electricity up her arm.

  “Poor baby.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest as he opened the water and handed it back to her.

  Her mouth was so dry, she took a long swallow. “Oh, that’s good. Ya know, go ahead and order a pizza if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m okay. Had a candy bar at the hospital.”

  Rolling her head slowly to the side, she smiled at him. “That’s not enough for a big, strong boy like you. You need some fuel for those bulging muscles.” There was a voice in the back of her head telling her to shut up but she couldn’t seem to obey.

  Not seeming to mind, he smiled back and his eyes blazed at her. “I’ll grab a sandwich later.”

  She gazed back at him until she felt her face heat. She could use the fact that she was medicated as an excuse for her new brazen behavior, but she also knew that nothing would happen between them tonight. Jud would never initiate any messing around while she wasn’t feeling well or while she was in an altered state from her meds. He might be a player, but she knew he would never take advantage of a woman. She held out her hand and he took it, his warmth melting her inside. “You know, you are the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Just what every big, strong boy wants to hear.”

  A giggle bubbled up from her lips and she winced. “Ouch, that hurt. Can I take another pain pill yet?”

  “Not yet. C’mere and lay your head on my lap. Let’s see if I can help.”

  Without hesitation, Chelsea dropped to her back and rested her head in his lap. The muscles of his thighs were hard and unyielding beneath her but she felt as if she was floating on air.

  “Okay, just relax.”

  His fingers were sure but gentle as he threaded them through her hair, stroking and scratching her scalp lightly. It felt so good that it raised goose bumps on her flesh. He took his time, covering every centimeter over and over. Despite her chemically induced haze, Chelsea’s body responded to his touch. She was twitchy with desire, a warm wetness forming between her legs.

  “I love your hair. It’s so smooth and silky.” His voice was deep and husky.

  She’d always hated her hair, but right now she loved it too. She smiled as his fingers moved down the back of her head to her neck. He massaged the tense muscles there and she wanted it to never end. He used his thumbs to stroke the tight knots and cords, working them away, easing the tension.

  Unable to hold it back any longer, she groaned. “Oh God, Jud, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

  He laughed and leaned over her, his face close to hers. “Someday soon, you’re going to be saying that to me while we’re doing something else.”

  Sleepy and in heaven, she asked, “Oh yeah? What’s that?” She felt his warm breath on her cheek when he huffed out a laugh.

  “When we’re in bed,” he said, “and I’m licking your pussy. When I’m buried deep inside you and making you crazy.”

  My, my. She wanted to make a sarcastic comment about him assuming too much, but neither of them had a doubt about where they were headed and she wasn’t inclined to play games. She sighed. “That sounds good.” There was no more talk after that, but he kept up the massaging motion. Fatigue set in, and with the combination of her meds and the relaxation from his fingers, Chelsea felt herself dropping off to sleep—images of a naked Judson Tate atop her the last thing she remembered.

  Chapter Four

  Jud carefully settled a sleeping Chelsea on his bed. As much as he wanted her to be awake and fuckable, he knew she was tired and in pain. He leaned over and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Reaching down to pull the covers over her, he got a whiff of her arousal. Fuck, she smelled sweet. He couldn’t wait to have her and it was killing him.

  Stepping away, he moved carefully. His dick was so hard, he was afraid it might shatter. Closing the door behind him, he decided she looked perfect lying in his bed, at home.

  In the kitchen, he found some fixings for a sandwich. Grabbing a beer, he took his dinner to the living room and turned on the TV, keeping the volume low. He caught up on the scores while he wolfed down his sandwich. Draining his beer, he leaned back against the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.

  What a day. He’d gone from sheer terror at the sight of Chelsea lying injured in the snow to relief that she was going to be okay, then from delight that she was coming home with him to frustration that he couldn’t have her.

  And he wanted to have her—every day and every way. Closing his eyes, he imagined tasting her sweet pussy, her juices running down his chin. He pictured her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him deep. He was dying to fuck her, to watch as he thrust inside her, his dick splitting her open.

  Shit. He had to stop or he was liable to go into his bedroom and have his way with her, mild concussion or not. And he absolutely couldn’t do that.

  Get a grip, Jud. Just because the woman he suddenly wanted more than life was in the next room in his bed, it was no reason to turn into a Neanderthal. Besides, he cared about Chelsea.

  Jud knew he’d been blessed with some gifts from nature—good looks and a big dick. He’d used them time and again to his advantage, going from woman to woman, happily fucking and avoiding emotional ties. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual relationship. He was out of practice, rusty. And that scared him a little bit.

  He had no doubt that he could get Chelsea in his bed, win her over with sex. But he wanted more than that. He wanted to settle down, be happy with just one woman. And he wanted to give it a go with Chelsea Ryan. He wanted to win her heart.

  Pushing himself up from the couch, he placed his plate in the sink and tossed the beer bottle into his recycling bin. Through the kitchen window, he saw that the snow had completely stopped and the wind was gone. Stars glinted in the clear night sky.

  Tomorrow would be good for skiing but he wasn’t scheduled to work. If he hadn’t had some editing to catch up on, he might have spent the day skiing for himself instead of the company. And he also had a sick woman under his watch. He’d love to convince her to stay with him tomorrow but knowing Chelsea it would be difficult. She had a mind of her own.

  Damn. He needed a shower. A nice cold shower. In the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and stepped under a cool spray of water until his hard-on faded. He cranked up the heat, soaping up and rinsing off quickly. Grabbing a towel, he dried off and headed to the bedroom. The only bedroom.

  Chelsea was lying exactly as he’d left her, curled up on half of his king-size bed. He pulled on a clean pair of boxer briefs and, after a mere moment of hesitation, slid under the covers on his half of the bed. He rationalized that he needed to be close to check on Chelsea and his couch was damn uncomfortable.

  She would never even know that he was there.

  * * * * *

  A drum line was crashing cymbals together inside Chelsea’s head. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself in the dark—literally and figuratively. She had no idea where she was until she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dar
kness. And until she turned her head to see a large male form reclining a foot away from her. Jud.

  She was not put out by the fact that he’d placed her in his bed, nor that he had joined her. He had only one bed and he deserved a good night’s sleep as much as she did. The LED gleaming from the bedside clock told her it was almost one in the morning. She could have another pain pill.

  Creeping out of bed, she went into the bathroom to use the toilet. She found that Jud had placed her prescription on the vanity along with a clean glass. What a guy. She unscrewed the childproof bottle, shook out one of the large pills and tossed it into her mouth, chasing it with a full glass of water.

  A look in the mirror showed her face to be a little pinched and pale. She ran her fingers through her hair, finding it fairly tangle-free. She shut the light off and waited, readjusting to the darkness and taking a few deep breaths, longing for her medicine to kick in.

  Back in the bedroom, she sat gingerly on the mattress, hoping that she wouldn’t disturb Jud. Sliding under the covers, she slowly scooted closer to him. Usually when she looked at him, she was self-conscious, afraid that she would blush a deep red or that he would be able to read her every thought. There was a little light from the moon as well as the alarm clock, so she took the opportunity to study him.

  Chelsea had never seen a more beautiful man—tall and lean, well-muscled but not overly ripped. His short, dark hair was soft and full, and long thick lashes rimmed his eyes. A narrow nose sat above full sculpted lips that begged to be kissed.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Chelsea relived their kiss last night. It was so tender and sweet yet utterly sexual. She nibbled at her lip, recalling the intimate things he’d said to her earlier tonight. Yes, she was in over her head with this man, this player, this seducer of women. But face it, Chelsea. Jud is exactly the man you need, a guy who turns you on and knows his way around a woman’s body.

  It didn’t hurt that she was also crazy about him. She suppressed an urge to groan, instead rubbing her thighs together as heat built in her core. She wanted Judson Tate and it scared the hell out of her.

  She rolled to her side, her back to his chest and slowly scooted back toward him, imagining him holding her in his arms. Almost as if she’d willed it, she felt the brush of his hand on her back. Without a word, he wrapped his arm around her belly and gently pulled her to him. His breath was warm and even on the back of her neck. Is he still asleep?

  He radiated heat, his body firm as she melted against him. Neither of them spoke as his hand lightly stroked her belly. She imagined his fingers moving south and she could actually feel them opening the folds of her pussy.

  Instead he went north, sneaking his hand under her scrub top and boldly moving up to cup her breast, thumbing her nipple until it stood out. She stifled a gasp of pleasure, her headache now either gone or unimportant. Either she was swept away with passion or her medicine had kicked in, because she felt as if she were floating on air.

  Those beautiful lips she’d just examined brushed the back of her neck, again and again. She was on fire, needing his lips on hers. Before she could turn to him, she found herself flat on her back. He moved over her, his hard thigh muscling in between her legs. She’d barely taken a breath before he covered her mouth with his, kissing her insistently. His tongue plunged past her lips, tangling with her own, exploring.

  At her breast, his fingers continued to work their magic—squeezing her flesh, plucking at her nipple. Jud was heavy on top of her and it felt heavenly. She reached up to clasp the back of his head, threading her fingers through his silky hair. She kissed him back, thrusting her chest at his hand. His erection was hard and thick against her thigh.

  He reached down for the hem of her top and was slowly working it up to remove it when a shrill beeping filled the air. They both froze for just a moment and then Jud pulled away from her to shut off the alarm clock. He rolled back and propped himself up on his elbow. “What the fuck?” His voice was gruff.

  “It’s me. Chelsea,” she said.

  “Fucking hell, Chelsea. I know it’s you.” He moved quickly to turn on the bedside lamp. “Do you think I don’t know who I’m in bed with?”

  That was exactly what she thought, but he seemed pretty mad so she decided to downplay it. Shrugging, she smiled. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you were having a hot dream about some sex goddess.”

  He shook his head and smoothed her top down. “I was. You.”

  She fought her usual habit of self-deprecation and decided to take him at his word. Still, she was unable to hold her blush in check. “Why did you set your alarm for one in the morning?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. “I thought I’d better do a neuro check, make sure you were still alive.”

  “Huh. Well, I think you need to brush up on your exam skills.”

  Jud laughed out loud and Chelsea smiled, relieved that they could still have a friendly exchange despite the new physical aspect of their relationship.

  The smile dropped from his face and he furrowed his brow. “Chelsea, you have a concussion. Why did you let me do that? Why didn’t you push me away?”

  “Um…is that a trick question?”

  His smile returned and he brushed her hair back to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry anyway. I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

  “It was nice,” she said, reaching to grab his hand, interlacing their fingers.

  “Just nice? Maybe there are other skills I need to brush up on.” He brushed his lips over her fingers. “So how are you feeling? How’s the headache?”

  “Gone. I took another pain pill a few minutes before your alarm went off.”

  “What? Jeez, Chels. Now I feel like a total rat—taking advantage of a medicated woman. I’m an asshole.”

  She laughed. “No, you’re not. Believe me, I was very aware of what was going on. Probably more than you were, so I’m the asshole.”

  “No, never.” The twinkle in his eyes gave way to searing desire. “I’m gonna have you soon though. I want you, Chels. Badly.”

  Unable to speak, she swallowed and nodded.

  Jud reached behind him to flick off the light. Turning back to Chelsea, he pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “Go to sleep. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  She sighed. “Darn.” She felt his laughter rumble in his chest and it felt really good.

  * * * * *

  “I need to go home and get some clean clothes.”

  Jud looked across the room to where Chelsea was curled up on his couch, tucking a blanket around herself. She’d spent the day drifting in and out of sleep while he’d gotten some work done. “What’s wrong with the sexy sweatshirt and shorts I loaned you?”

  “They’re a little big. The shorts are hanging down below my knees.”

  “I’ll take you home in a while,” he said, though he really didn’t want to. He was getting used to having her around, even after just one night. He had been dreaming about her last night. Sleeping Jud had been doing all sorts of delicious things to Chelsea’s body. Then just like that, she was there in his arms. Half-awake, he’d taken advantage of the opportunity and explored some real warm flesh. His cock had already been hard, but it stiffened even more when his palm reached her breasts. They were plump, larger than they appeared when she was clothed. He hadn’t been able to resist tasting her, her neck, her lips. He’d longed to feast on her breasts, only to be stopped by that fucking alarm. It was a good thing though. What kind of cad molests a sick woman on narcotics?

  “How’s your head, Chels?”

  She stretched like a cat. “I could use another one of your fabulous scalp massages.”

  “I suppose I could take a break for my patient.” He closed his laptop and moved over to the couch. “Sit up,” he said, sitting down in the vacant spot. He pulled her back against his chest and started gently rubbing her neck muscles. She made some noises that were more appropriate for the t
hroes of passion. His cock sprang to life as his thoughts wandered to a sexier place.

  “Ah God,” she groaned.

  “Okay, that’s enough.” His hands dropped to her back and he pushed her away. “Flip around and let me do your feet.”

  Chelsea looked back at him over her shoulder, smiling. “Really? I love a good foot rub.”

  “Great. Just don’t make any of those orgasm noises.”

  Eagerly, she turned around and deposited her feet on his lap. “I can’t make any promises.”

  Jud sighed and picked up a foot. “Okay, I’m going to quiz you, make sure you still have all your marbles.” Chelsea answered his “who, what, where, when and why” questions correctly as he worked on pressure points on her foot.

  “Is that all you’re gonna ask?”

  “Huh, let’s see. Okay, what’s my favorite book?”

  “Easy,” she said. “The last book that you’ve edited is your favorite.”

  He laughed. “I’ll give you a half point for that. What’s my favorite book that I haven’t edited?”

  Chelsea screwed up her mouth. “The Call of the Wild.”

  “Ding, ding, ding. Excellent.”

  “What’s my favorite book?” she asked.

  “This is not a quiz for me.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

  She lifted her head and raised a brow in approval. “Nice.”

  “I’m not just a pretty face, ya know.” He winked at her. “How about favorite movie?”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “The Godfather. That’s every guy’s favorite movie.”

  Jud shrugged. “There’s a good reason for that. Now, you—you would tell people your favorite movie is Sense and Sensibility, but really it’s The Notebook.”

  Her mouth dropped open in mock distress, then she laughed. “That’s true.” She leaned back, cradling her head in her hands. “What bugs me more than anything else?”

  “When people don’t replace an empty toilet paper dispenser. Or, or better yet, when they put it on the wrong way.”