by Cari Quinn
He lifts his hands to demonstrate. “She’s too far back on her skis. It’s making it hard for her to start the next turn. So she whips her shoulders around, making her body follow. As you can see, it’s not very effective.” He shakes his head.
Megan is up there with her, talking her through. She may not like Jess, but I can see she is being patient and kind.
“Megan’s a good instructor, isn’t she?”
“She is one of the most requested females for private lessons. She knows her stuff. She also doesn’t let personal feelings get in the way.” Nick lets out a sigh.
He turns to Blaine. “Dude, this is going to be a long day if you don’t do something. I don’t know why you let her come.”
“You know Jess. It’s not like no would work with her.” He sounds defensive.
“If you don’t get rid of her, I will. I won’t be nice.”
Jess and Megan finally get to us. Jess slides up close to Blaine. “That was nerve-racking!” Looking at him she says, “I didn’t see you go, and without a good line to follow, I was a mess.”
“Sorry about that. I was focused on Casey.” He looks over at me. He smiles with pride. “She handled it brilliantly.” Heat flushes my face.
Jess purses her lips, and I think I see smoke come out of her ears. “Let’s go over to the other side, Blaine.”
He hesitates before answering. “Sure, we can do that.”
Nick isn’t having any of it. “Casey, what’s your favorite thing to ski? We’ll go do it.”
I love him. A nice me would say the smooth, groomed trails like Jess wants. The mean me would say another bowl run. The truth? Bowls and bumps are an even tie. Knowing bumps won’t be any easier for Jess, I decide that’s my best answer. It’s still mean, but appears innocently so. “Bumps. Any good ones around?”
Nick’s white teeth shine as he breaks into a grin. “There’s a great back shot on this bowl with bumps as big as Mini Coopers. Yes?”
I rub my mittens together in excitement on two counts. That ought to send her running. “Heck, yeah!”
Jess lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to have to leave you guys. My knee is acting up, and bumps will hurt.”
As she skis away, Nick gives me a fist bump. He looks at Blaine. “Dude, you’re pathetic. But Casey? She rocks. Let’s go see what the flatlander can do.”
Once Jess is gone it’s like a date. Blaine and I ride together on every chair. Chairlifts are great for being close. Inches apart, when you turn toward each other body parts touch. He gives me pointers and I don’t mind. He’s a good teacher and I enjoy this. More than once, Megan gives me a secret thumbs-up behind his back.
As the day winds down, I don’t want it to end. I wonder if we’ll do the après ski thing. Nick suggests we go to a local watering hole.
Blaine tucks his arm in mine and looks down at me with sparkling eyes. “I have a better idea. Hot chocolate again?”
I melt. “I would really like that.”
Megan looks at us. “Should we leave you two alone? Blaine?”
Blaine links arms with Megan too. “No, you should come. Has Nick ever taken you to The Jerome?”
“Wow, is that where you take all the girls? That place isn’t even on my radar.” Megan sounds impressed.
Nick snorts. “What girls?” He takes take my unoccupied arm. “Casey, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you. I was beginning to think Blaine here might need an intervention.”
I flash him an appreciative smile. Nick is so awesome. Megan was right.
When we get to the locker room, Megan takes off her skis and hands them to Nick. “Nick, would you take these in for me? And grab my bag? I’m going to use the public restroom here with Casey.”
We enter the bathroom, and the sound of boots hitting tile echoes. Megan lets out a little squeal of delight. “He couldn’t stop touching you!” Mimicking his voice, she puts her hands on my hips. “Here, Casey, you need to move them like this.” Grabbing my hands she says in his voice, “And here, Casey, you hold your poles like this.”
I laugh at her as I turn to take off my helmet and assess the damage. “I didn’t mind one bit.” Fluffing up my hair, I can see her in the mirror. “You were right about Nick. He is darn adorable.”
“I know, right?” She lets out a contented sigh.
Chapter Thirteen
After hot chocolate, Blaine offers to drive me to my car. The blinker tics and he turns into the lot. “Next week we should take one car.” I let out an inner squeal. Next week?
I point to the left. “I’m that older, white Saab over there.” I think Tuesday is my new favorite day. There are butterflies in my stomach as he pulls in next to my car. The gearshift clunks into park. He turns toward me and reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. It sets off a tingle in my veins. His hand drifts down to my cheek and I hold my breath. He leans in and soft lips touch mine. Once there, he presses a little harder, and his tongue darts into my mouth. I taste chocolate and feel the rough stubble of his check under my fingers as I hold his face. Breaking away, his voice is low. “When can I see you again? Tomorrow?”
I take a deep breath and exhale. “Yes.” He leans in and kisses me again. This time it’s deeper, longer, and more passionate. Warmth travels to my belly. Inhaling the barely-there spicy scent mixed with his musky male odor, I’m intoxicated. My hand slides in his jacket and onto his chest. I feel the strong muscles strain against his tight turtleneck. Oh my. I crave more than a kiss.
He pulls away and I squirm a little in my seat. Wow. I’m not sure I can stand but open the door to leave. “Tomorrow?”
He grabs my skis and hands them to me. “Tomorrow. I’ll be home around four-thirty. Want to come over for dinner?”
“Sure, where do you live?” I step out.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Great.” I push the door shut and dig in my pocket for my keys. In my head, I squeal. Oh my goodness!
I turn the ignition and hear the engine rev to life. The moment Blaine drives off, I grab my phone to text Gretchen. “I’ve met someone. Just kissed him. Wow.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next few weeks are full of evenings with Blaine and Tuesday double dates with Nick and Megan. And kissing, lots and lots of kissing. We haven’t moved much past it, which has been fine until now. It’s starting to seem weird.
I think he needs a little push. I decide to employ my favorite technique, alcohol. Blaine lives a few blocks away from the boarding house. Most nights I walk over and he walks me home. Mrs. Matheson thinks of me as one of her good girls. When I get in evenings, she only requires I pop my head in her sitting room to tell her I’m there.
I’m sure she wouldn’t know if I had one glass of wine with food.
I decide to dress a little sexier than usual. I pull out a matching plum bra and panty set. I lean forward and put on the bra. The push-up style makes me look larger than I am. I turn from side to side and check out how it looks with my hair flowing over my chest. I straightened my hair tonight knowing it will look shiny in candlelight. Oh, good choice. The color is perfect. My scoop-neck tee ought to show off my pumped-up cleavage. I slide it on over my head and it hugs me in all the right places. As I wiggle into my jeans, I’m tempted to forgo the panties. Then I flash to the last night with Jason. No, better not go there. Holding my eyelid taut, I draw liner in dark purple across my lash line. With a little upturn at the end, I have a sexy-looking cat eye, and I repeat it for the other side. Instead of my spray-and-walk-through perfume ritual, I remove the nozzle and dot the cool liquid between my breasts, at my wrists, at the hollow in my neck, and behind my ears. My stomach flutters with anticipation.
Tara, one of my housemates, works in a wine-and-cheese shop downtown. I decide to go there for her assistance with the wine. It’s a wonderful shop full of unusual flavors. When I enter the door, I’m greeted by a pungent smell. Blue cheese is set out with crackers. There are tiny sample cups of wine next
to it. I pick one up to sniff.
“Casey!”
I turn toward the voice and see a bubbly girl in a dark green apron. I notice I still hold the wine and drink it down. Fire hits my empty stomach like a tiny bit of liquid courage. Barely covering her ample cleavage, Tara wears a tight V-neck tee.
She looks at me and whistles a catcall. Her twang gives everything she says a tone of appreciation. “Dang, girl, you’re smokin’ hot. Whatever you plan to bring that beefcake you date, he won’t be eating it. You’re going to be the main course.” Every male in the shop looks at me. No, everyone in the shop looks at me. Heat surges to my face.
I knew this was the right place to come. If anyone could boost my self-esteem, it’s Tara. “You’re just what I need. Can you help me?”
“You got it, sugar, what do you want?” Her perfume wraps around me.
“The most seductive wine you’ve got.”
She puts one hand on her hip. A long red fingernail taps her lip, “Red or white?”
“Let’s go with red.” Is this really such a good idea?
“Oh, I’ve got the perfect one. It’s from Chile and has spicy undertones. If he hasn’t melted after you set him on fire, then this will do it.”
“I hope so.” I wring my hands.
“Whoa, girlfriend, don’t do that.” Tara grabs me by the arm and pulls me in the back. “You’re a delicious woman. He’s probably taking things slow because he thinks that’s what you want. Once you let him know you’re ready for more, he’ll be devouring you.” She gives me a wink and the once over with her eyes. Shaking her head, she lets out a big sigh. “Uh-huh. He’s in trouble.”
I giggle and then say, “Thanks, Tara.”
Walking out of the shop, I am unstoppable. The cold air on my face tries to cool me down, but it doesn’t work. My cowboy boots clack along the snowy sidewalk to ensure everyone can hear my approach. I arrive at his door and arrange myself a bit. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself. My finger pushes the icy metal button to ring the bell. Blaine opens the door with a sensual smile on his face. He’s in a denim shirt unsnapped one more than usual. Oh, yes. I smell a hint of his spicy male scent that drives me wild. As I step in I see candlelight dance on the walls. What the…? Did he read my mind? On the small dinner table, a bottle of something bubbly is in a bucket of ice. Interesting.
Now I’m torn. Do I? Or don’t I pull out the bottle of wine? The smell is heavenly, and I know it’s not our usual pasta and salad. “This is very romantic, Blaine. What’s the occasion?”
“Did you know it’s been three months since we met?” His warm hand wraps around mine, and he leads me toward the couch.
“Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it, but you’re right.” This guy is too sweet.
“Ski season is almost over, and I’m in the mood to celebrate what a great winter this has been.”
He has stepped close to me. The chill on my face burns off. His lips move with more niceties and his words seem far away. I have a desire to touch his bare chest. I reach out with my hand and play with a snap on his shirt. I say, “Uh-huh.” My insides are a puddle. I reach up, pull his head down to me and kiss him with a bit of force. He pulls me close. I slide my hands down over his butt. Round and firm, I grasp the rough denim to pull him in tighter. His hands stay at my lower back. Heat sears through me. I reach around and slide one of his hands up toward my breast. I wait for him to do something with it. He keeps kissing me, but his hand stays still. Just below my breast, over my shirt. It’s like I glued it there. The flame dies.
Seriously? What am I going to have to do to get to second base with this guy? I think it’s time for wine after all. I pull away and go to my backpack. “You know, it’s funny. I felt a need to celebrate too.” I take out the wine and walk over to the kitchen. My boots are loud on the tile. In search of a wine opener, I open a drawer. It’s in a silverware pocket all by itself. With renewed determination, I grab it and attack the cork.
“You do look extra fabulous tonight. What about Mrs. Matheson?” I hear him sit on the couch with a whoosh.
“She’ll never know about one glass. I smell garlic, which should mask any odor if by chance she got close enough to smell my breath.”
I pull the cork out with a pop, and wine splashes into our glasses. I hand him the glass of deep burgundy liquid and raise mine. “To meeting you, Blaine Johnson.”
“To meeting you, Casey Cassidy.” Deep tannin flavor with a hint of spice spreads through my mouth. The wine burns as it goes down. I imagine it flowing through my veins, magnifying my senses. I look over at Blaine to make sure he’s drinking too.
I find a little Adel for the iPod. I hope her sultry voice awakens his desire. Blaine is busy in the kitchen. Then it hits me. Gretchen. She’ll know what to do. Seduction is her specialty, and I need a little of that mojo. I slip away to the bathroom with my phone and text her. “Trying to seduce B, sexy clothes, makeup, perfume, candles, wine, Adele. Not working, help?”
Within seconds she replies “Adele?! Fuck. Hang on.” Crass as ever, she makes me smile. I wait. “Blow job.”
“What? That’s kind of a jump from just kissing. He won’t even go to second base.” I’m not doing that. No way.
“Seriously. Suck his dick. No man on earth would refuse it. Then, he’ll do whatever you want.”
Crap, that is so not helpful. Looking in the mirror, I adjust my breasts a little higher, pull my neckline down a little lower, and try to think of plan B. I walk out of the bathroom and toward Blaine. I top off his glass with more wine. Hell, I top off mine too.
Dinner is delicious, but I don’t eat much. I’m sure the chicken is good, but it tastes like cardboard to me. I push things around to make it look like I’ve eaten more and focus on getting wine into Blaine. He’s on his second glass and his eyes shine. Good, because I’m a little drunk too. Into my second glass, this is the most I’ve had in months.
I clear the table and put the dishes in the sink. I glance at the couch and see the glow of his phone eerily light up his face as he checks e-mail. I emptied the bottle of wine in his glass earlier, and it’s down to half a glass. I guzzle the rest of mine and fight a shudder as it makes its way down.
I saunter over to him. One knee at a time, I straddle his lap and lean down toward his neck. I inhale his sexy odor and kiss his throat. As I make my way up to his lips, I hear a thud as he lets the phone fall on the couch. His strong hands hold my face. Feeling brave, I take a hand and slip it under my shirt. “Touch me?” He slides the other hand under and cups my breasts over my bra. He squeezes gently. My nipples tighten. Now we’re getting somewhere. His lips caress my neck and I groan. I want him to know I’m ready, willing, and able.
I sit back and slowly pull off my shirt. Soft hair falls and splays out around my chest. His eyes get big. So he likes this? Good. I unhook my bra and dip a shoulder to let the strap fall. I trail my fingers across my breast and remove the bra. My nipple hardens at the cooler air, sending fire to my core.
“You’re beautiful.”
Blaine’s eyes are heavy and he looks at my breasts. Yet he doesn’t reach for me. What am I? A show? This is awkward. I lean in and kiss him again. Finally, his hand touches my breast as his kiss gets deeper. He squeezes, but it doesn’t seem sexual. It’s like he’s kneading dough. I roll off him and lay down on the rough upholstery of the couch. He climbs over me to kiss my lips. I grip the soft cotton and pull at his shirt to release it from his jeans. My hands slide up the smooth skin of his back, and goose bumps rise under my fingers. He sinks down on top of me with a moan and starts to kiss my neck. His hardness presses against my thigh. Anticipation twitches through me as I wait for him to move lower. He doesn’t. Instead, he rises up to kiss my mouth again.
Sweet Jesus, this is frustrating. I yank at his shirt and hear the snaps pop as I open the western-style buttons. I peel it off him and pull him close. The sensation of skin against skin sends a shiver through me. His desire presses against me, but is it waning?
I’m about to explode, and he’s losing steam? We’re still kissing, but now it seems wrong. I push him up. “I need a breather.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Blaine gets up and goes to the bathroom.
I feel exposed and not in a sexy way. My nipples are puckered from the chill and I shiver. This isn’t going well. I notice his wine and take the glass. It races to my veins as I suck the rest down.
I get up and pace. Crossing my arms over my chest, I want to put my bra and shirt back on. This is just weird. I turn toward the noise of the bathroom door opening. Blaine approaches slowly. He’s naked, displaying his rippling muscles, as well as his arousal. He looks at me in a seductive way. I should be melting. But right now I’m kind of freaked. Oh, God. What is he doing? Are we skipping the foreplay?
He flips off the lights. I look at his rock-hard butt as he bends to blow out the candles around the room. The scent of melted wax drifts over to me. Okay, maybe I can find my way back. He doesn’t speak, but his presence overwhelms me. His gentle fingers take my face in his hands, and I let out the breath I was holding. He kisses me deeply. My tongue meets his as arms tighten around my waist. He presses his body into mine, and his need pulses against my stomach. I try to get back to where I was. I envision fingers sliding between my legs; I see Jason’s face. What? Oh shit. I pull my mouth away in horror. When I try to pull my body back, Blaine won’t let go.
He whispers, “I know, babe, this is intense.”
He starts to kiss my neck and groans. His body tenses and then relaxes. Warmth radiates against my belly. Realization stabs me. No. Did he just? Oh, ick. I force myself to suppress the urge to shudder from disgust.
Blaine steps away and falls back on the couch. “Oh my God, Casey. That was. It. Oh.” He sighs.
I’m dumbstruck. I grab my clothes and go to the bathroom to clean up. The moment I shut the door, I shake my head in disbelief. I look in the mirror. What the hell? No, that doesn’t do it justice. As Gretchen would say, that was fucked up. I grab a washcloth and don’t bother to wait for warm water. I wipe my stomach with the cold terry cloth and try to pull myself together. Numbly, I get dressed.
