“Even though I’m a ski instructor and tend to find my enjoyment in the snow,” I said. “Being in a hot bath next to a fireplace with you sounds much more appealing.”
We sat there talking for a while, and the martinis were definitely flowing for this sexy girl. Glen tapped his watch every time I looked over at him. At exactly fifty-eight minutes before my hour was up, I figured I had lost my bet, but I’d already invested too much time to not see it through. To my surprise, just as that thought crossed my mind, Myra leaned across the table and perched her lips next to my ear, grasping onto my thigh.
“Why don’t you come up to my room and let me take care of you?” she whispered, grasping onto my cock.
“I like the sound of that.” I smiled, glancing over at Glen.
I stood up, adjusting myself, and handed the bartender my card, telling him to leave it with the guy at the bar and he would sign for the drinks. I reached down, took the girl’s hand, and pulled her toward the elevator. She stumbled a little and giggled before climbing in the elevator and biting her lip. She watched me walk in, shaking my head and laughing. As soon as the doors closed, she was on me, her lips crushed against mine, her hand rubbing heavily against my hardening package.
We stumbled out of the elevator and to her room, where she tossed open the door and walked inside. I closed the door and locked it behind me. She tossed her bag on the floor and pulled her sweater over her head, laughing. She beckoned me toward her with a curl of her finger. I smiled and did as she asked, closing the distance between us. She kissed my lips a few more times and unhooked her bra, letting her big, fake tits bounce out. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, looking up at me as she unbuckled my pants and let them fall to the floor. She pulled my boxers down to my knees and tightly grasped my hard cock.
I groaned and threw my head back as her big lips slid over the tip. The feeling of her warm tongue swirling around the head shook me to the core. She slid her mouth down and around the shaft, pushing her head all the way to the base before pulling her head back. The suction in the back of her throat threw me completely off balance. I groaned loudly, looking over in the full-length mirror, and I watched her titties bounce and jiggle and my cock slide in and out of her mouth. My hands went down to her hair, and I pulled it back into a ponytail, holding tightly as she slobbered hard on my dick.
“Yeah,” I groaned.
She looked up at me, her mouth curving into a smile. She reached her other hand up and rolled my balls around in her palm. I could feel the heat in my stomach beginning to build, watching this sexy-ass redhead deep throat my cock over and over again. She lunged forward, taking it all into her throat and pausing at the bottom, rolling my cock around in her throat. I thrust my hips forward, holding onto the back of her head, and listened to her moan as I took charge of the situation and started to fuck her face.
I put one hand down on the dresser beside me and grabbed onto her hair, pushing her down and pulling her back up, watching as her eyes watered and her lips moved from smiles to completely full of my dick. She reached her hands down and grabbed her tits, her muffled moaning turning me on even more. I could feel my cock swelling in her throat, and the heat in my stomach turned into a blazing fire.
I spread my legs farther apart and let her take back over, putting my hands on my hips and focusing on the feeling of my cock deep in her soft throat. Her head bobbed up and down fast and deep, and I dug my fingers into my skin, waiting for the release that was coming soon. Just when I thought I had a couple of minutes still, she started to lash her tongue up and around my shaft, focusing in on one spot right under the head where the nerves were raw and ready. I groaned, reaching down and grabbing the base, watching as she pulled her mouth back and lifted her big tits in the air. I started to stroke my erection with my hand, her slobber providing more than enough lubrication.
“Come on my tits,” she moaned. “I want to feel it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, fisting my cock hard.
My hand slipped down one last time, and I grasped tightly to the shaft and growled loudly. Hot streams of my seed shot out in layers over her bouncing tits. She moaned loudly, her red lipstick smeared across her mouth, and rings of the crimson left at the base of my dick. I stroked it for a bit longer, getting the last drops dribbling down her neck. I let out a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and shaking my head with a smile.
“That was amazing,” I whispered, pulling up my boxers and pants as she stood to her feet and walked into the bathroom.
“Why don’t you stay and take a bath with me,” she said, smirking. “There is definitely more where that came from.”
“Aww,” I replied, groaning. “That sounds amazing, but I have to go to work early tomorrow. Why don’t you give me your number?”
I was lying. I didn’t have to go to work, but I always made it a point not to stick around too long during these things. She pouted and walked over, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. As she handed it to me, I gave her a fake pout back and kissed her on the cheek. She walked me to the door, and I climbed in the elevator, leaning back against the wall as the doors slid shut. I smiled to myself and looked down at the paper. I shook my head and crumpled it up, tossing it in the small wastebasket in the corner of the elevator.
Ski Season had officially begun.
Chapter 2
Bea
I pulled a pot from underneath the cabinet, set it in front of me on the counter, and dumped six cups of water into it. My phone was pressed between my shoulder and my ear, and I listened to Hailey talk about her date two nights before while trying to get dinner started. My boyfriend Grant would be home soon, and he hated it when dinner wasn’t ready when he walked through the door.
Grant and I had been together for three years, and although he was a bit hard to deal with sometimes, he was a decent man with a good job and a future. I learned to deal with his rough edges, knowing that he worked hard and just wanted certain comforts that any person would want. I was a freelance writer, so I was able to move my schedule around, making time to take care of Grant, which I had to admit was almost like a full-time job. He had a serious temper, and I found it easier to just do what he wanted, rather than fight through one of his explosive tantrums. We didn’t live together, per se, but he came to my house for dinner whenever business didn’t interrupt, and it had become a routine of ours.
“Why don’t you come out with me tonight?” Hailey really wanted to see me. “It’s Thirsty Thursday at the pub we used to go to. We can relax, let our hair down, and have a few drinks.”
“Aww, I really want to see you.” I sighed. “And beers do sound amazing, but Grant and I have plans already. I’m cooking dinner as we speak, spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread with his favorite kale salad.”
“You are aware that Grant has two hands and a brain, right?” she asked. “He is more than capable of cooking his own dinner for once.”
Hailey had never liked Grant, especially after the Christmas incident two years ago where she walked in on him berating me for messing up the ham right before dinner. No one else noticed the different glaze, but he was furious. He was under a lot of stress because that was the year that his boss came to dinner. Either way, she pretty much wrote him off at that point. But as much as I loved Hailey, I knew I had to be faithful in my relationship with Grant because we were together, and it seemed like something that wasn’t going to change.
“Hailey,” I said with a sigh. “I know he is capable of doing things himself. I just want to stick to my word.”
“You mean so he doesn’t treat you like a child again? I’m sorry, Bea, I know we’ve had this conversation before.” She sighed.
“Then just let it go,” I replied, not wanting to argue.
“All right,” she said. “Letting it go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“For sure,” I replied.
I hung up with Hailey and tossed the phone on the counter, finishing getting dinner ready. I wanted it all to be ready a
nd on the table when he arrived. By the time I was nearly done putting the last touches on the table settings, Grant walked through the door, putting his briefcase down and taking off his jacket. I smiled and walked toward him, readying myself for a kiss. Instead, he looked over at the table and tossed his jacket in my arms, completely ignoring my ploy for affection. I hung up his jacket and sighed, figuring he was just preoccupied from just getting off work. I walked up beside him and looked down at the spread.
“I made your favorite,” I said, beaming. “And it just got off the stove, so it will be deliciously hot.”
I looked back at the large dish of spaghetti still steaming in the pan, lying next to the crispy garlic bread, and two individually plated kale salads with my homemade raspberry maple dressing. My stomach growled slightly, and I realized I had been so busy at work earlier, and then panicked to get dinner ready when I got home, that I hadn’t had anything to eat except for a piece of toast that Grant hadn’t wanted before he left for work. Either way, I was proud of my hard work, and I hoped that he would enjoy it.
“Yes, it takes a gourmet chef to put together spaghetti and meatballs,” he said with a smirk, sitting down at the table.
I ignored his comment, but not the hurt feeling in my chest and crossed around, sitting down in the seat on the other side of the table. I held the bread out for him, but he ignored me, going for the spaghetti and meatballs. I set it down and waited, picking at my salad.
“How do you like it?” I asked.
“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth. “This reminds me of a lesson I learned at work today. So many people come to my office, so proud of a project that they put together, a project that is absolute shit in my opinion. But today, watching Marcy Bower from marketing beam about her work during our conference, I realized that not everyone is me. Not everyone can work hard and produce brilliant work. I had to learn to humble myself a bit and give them props for a job well done, even if it was something I could do in my sleep. So, thank you for dinner, Bea. You did a lovely job. I can see you are very proud of yourself.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a putdown or a compliment, but it didn’t feel good in the least. We sat silently eating, with Grant occasionally asking me a question, but cutting me off before I could fully answer it. I sipped at my glass of wine, watching him across the table, texting away on his phone. He was completely in another world, lost in the digital conversation he was having with God knows who. Every once in a while, he would smirk or chuckle at the person on the other end of the phone before glancing up at me and tossing his phone to the side, just to pick it back up when the little chime would come through. I was eating dinner to the sound of cellphone rings, but I kept my irritation at bay and just enjoyed my dinner. When his phone rang, I glanced up, watching him answer.
“Hey there,” he said, chuckling. “No, no, you’re not pulling me away. I wasn’t doing anything of importance. Yes, that does need to be taken care of… Absolutely… All right then, give me ten or so minutes, and I’ll head over there.”
I looked up at him and watched as he took a big swig of his wine and wiped his mouth. This was just like him, always leaving in the middle of the dinner or shortly thereafter, especially lately. He took in a deep breath and stood up, straightening his clothes and glancing over at me.
“Sorry, love,” he said. “Work calls. Like always. I promise this weekend, we will have some time, just you and me.”
I smiled and tilted my head upward, ready for that kiss I’d been after since he got here. Instead, he leaned over and kissed my forehead before turning and grabbing his coat. He smiled at me with that charming smile that had hooked me in the first place and walked out the door. I jumped slightly as the front door slammed shut, the rush of cold air from outside hitting me in the face. I sighed and filled my wine glass, looking out the window across the room. There were small snowflakes lightly falling from the sky, and the window was fogged from the temperature difference. It looked like it was going to be just another quiet night with me and my thoughts. I was actually getting pretty used to it. but I was still unsure of whether he was completely telling me the truth or not.
I shook my head, trying not to question his integrity. I had fallen for Grant a long time ago, with his pretty eyes and English accent. I had agreed to be in a relationship with him, which was a huge move for me. Doing that, I knew that I couldn’t question him, or have any ideas that I couldn’t trust him because trust was the foundation of a relationship. With Grant, if you didn’t have trust, you were pretty screwed because he came and went as he pleased, with little to no explanation. I had known that from the beginning. It was only now starting to get to me a bit because he no longer made the effort to spend time with me like he used to. It was more than a little bit frustrating.
I sat there at the table and finished my dinner, and the bottle of wine, for that matter. When I was done with my food, I took my glass of wine and walked over to the doors leading out onto the terrace. I wasn’t about to go outside. It was winter in Basalt, Colorado, which meant temperatures were below freezing. I didn’t have a huge place, but like so many others in Basalt, my windows spanned my living room, from floor to ceiling. I had an amazing view, which was why I chose this place to begin with. It was white outside, and I knew that skiing had begun, bringing tourists to the area. I, myself, had never skied before, but I loved the winter wonderland around me. Luckily, I had a job that allowed me to work from home, so I didn’t have to deal with the whole issue of driving in the blustery conditions, unless, of course, I ran out of wine. Then, it was definitely worth an emergency trip.
I sighed, taking the last gulp of my warm, red cabernet and walking back to the table. I started to pick up the dishes and take them to the kitchen, scraping Grant’s half-eaten plate of mediocre spaghetti into the trash. As I washed the dishes and put away the leftovers, I thought about the future, knowing I had reached a point in my life where I was tired of searching.
I had a great job, that I had managed to become extremely successful at, and an amazing house. My boyfriend wasn’t always such a dick, and I knew that this was probably the best that it was ever going to get for me. I was never looking for a fairy tale, but I was looking forward to the day when Grant finally proposed and I could start building a family. This house would be a lot nicer with the sound of little feet slapping the wooden floors.
When I was done cleaning up, I sighed and walked into the living room where I flipped off the lights, turned on the gas fireplace, and snuggled up on the couch with a warm fleece and some old black and white movies. This was the part of the day I really enjoyed, whether Grant was there or not. I could finally relax.
Chapter 3
Cameron
It was Saturday, easily the busiest day of the week for instruction. Glen and I had a couple of classes the day before, but nothing too strenuous, and I spent my night sipping brandy like an old rich man by the fireplace in my room. I thought about picking up another girl at the lounge, but figured I should pace myself instead. This morning was extra cold on the mountain, but I loved it, every single bit of it. Glen and I were setting up for our first class of the day, getting the seats ready in the small building at the top of the hill where we taught basic safety and technique before trying it out with our students in the white stuff outside. We still had a couple of weeks before the Christmas crowd got here, but the classes were already booked solid. Knowing Glen and I would create happy guests, the hotel manager had requested that the front desk clerks recommend our classes first.
“So,” Glen said, putting down the folders on the desks. “How did things go with that redhead the other night?”
“Oh, you know. I wooed her with my charm.” I laughed. “She was really hot, though, with her big fake tits, freshly purchased snow gear, showing me that she wasn’t a professional skier by any means, and a body that was perfect. No doubt she was someone’s arm candy back at home, but that is none of my business. I simply did what I could to show her a
good time and give her a pleasant memory to take home. I’m a hero, really.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yep,” I said, writing our names on the chalk board. “These women are missing something in their lives, and I offer them a bit of the unexpected. I bet you, they all go home feeling refreshed and a hell of a lot more confident. If any of them do have boyfriends off the slope, they should probably thank me for sending their women back more vibrant than ever.”
“Oh, I see. So, you save relationships now. Well, the girl the other night looked like the kind of girl that you would quickly get over after screwing.” He chuckled.
“That’s why I got a blow job, took her number, which I promptly disposed of when I was out of sight, and dipped out,” I said. “Sure, she will think of me for a couple of days, maybe even hope that I’ll call, but in the end, she’ll realize it was for the best.”
“I think you’re giving these women a bit too much credit for thinking of sex from the male perspective,” he said. “We’re pigs. Most women are not. Mind you, I’m saying most. I’ve met a few over the years who are more distant than we are, which is both frightening and refreshing at the same time.”
“You can’t be too careful with these girls on vacation. They’re looking for a good time, but they teeter on the edge of wanting more. I’m always courteous and gentlemanly, but I’m not here to find a wife, unlike some partners that I have.” I darted my eyes over to Glen. “Besides, they’re looking for something that I’m more than happy to give to them. Just another reason why you can call me a hero.”
The Valentines Day Proposal Page 38
