Bailing Out_Snow-Crossed Lovers

by Carrie Quest

  Even if it is in a dusty basement.

  “Quite a decadent little nest you’ve built us,” I say, smoothing my hand over the coats. “I’d never actually buy fur, but this does feel amazing.”

  His body shakes as he laughs. “Decadent? We’re on the floor of a closet. If you hadn’t been screaming so loud, we would probably be rat food by now.”

  I grin up at him. “Your fault about the screaming, my friend.”

  He smirks and I tickle his ribs until he squirms.

  “And don’t knock our accommodation,” I say. “I’m going to request basement rooms wherever I stay from now on.”

  He chuckles again, deep and low, and the sound drizzles over my skin like molasses. “Way ahead of you. I’m planning on dragging you down to every hotel basement between here and the island.”

  I go perfectly still, but he keeps up his gentle stroking and keeps staring up at the ceiling like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb.

  “The island?”

  He looks down at me, his green eyes soft and tender. “Yeah. I figure we’re in Russia again, right? I’m finished and you’ll be free when the skating’s done. We should take the trip we meant to take three years ago, before my father fucked everything up.”

  It sounds so simple when he puts it like that, but when we break out of this room, real life is going to rush back in, grounding us both and keeping us down.

  “We can’t just take up where we left off, Gabe. It’s not that easy.”

  Damn but I wish it were, though. I wish falling back into that life was as simple as falling onto this pile of coats.

  “I know. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, Belle. We can never go back, but we could take that trip together and see what happens. Who’s going to stop us?”

  “Do you want me to give you a list?”

  Your father. My sister. The army of photographers that follows you around.

  “I’ll admit my father might be an asshole about me leaving, but there are things he’s going to want from me, and that’ll give me some bargaining power. Enough to make sure those pictures of us stay buried.”

  “I don’t want you to owe him anything. I’d rather he released everything then let him have any power over you.”

  He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That might happen, and you’d need to be prepared for it, but I’ve learned a lot about how to manipulate the press. And my father. There’s a good chance I can control the story without giving in to his demands.”

  I struggle up so I can sit next to him, clutching a coat over my breasts. This is not a conversation I want to have naked. I’m feeling vulnerable enough.

  “What about Jake?”

  Gabe rolls to his side and props himself up on one arm. “Jake’s eighteen. He’s away at school, and I’m the one who’ll be writing the checks from now on. My dad doesn’t have much power there. “

  “Still…” I shiver. Reggie Power has been the boogeyman in my dreams for so long that it’s hard to imagine defying him.

  “Jake and I have talked. We both agree that our father’s MO is to bully people he knows he can manipulate. He’s really unlikely to go after either of us when we’re still holding some cards. We’ve got plenty of shit on him as well, you know?” He shrugs. “Still, nothing is for sure. I understand if that’s a risk you don’t want to take.”

  That little boy vulnerability is back in the tilt of his jaw and the flicker of fear in his eyes. His hands are still now, clenched in the fur, but in my mind I see them cupped together, cradling his heart and holding it out. Offering it to me. Asking me to trust him with more than my body.

  You mean I wasn’t worth the risk.

  The risk this time is different, though. I’m different. Last time I was vulnerable and afraid, worried I wouldn’t survive losing my career and my reputation. I didn’t know my own strength then, but I sure as hell know it now. I’ve survived worse and come out standing. Come out skating, even.

  Gabe stares at me, clear-eyed, waiting for me to scoop up that heart of his and keep it safe. He’s trusting me with it, and I trust him too. I do. Reggie Power may be a boogeyman, but Gabe hasn’t spent the last three years pretending he doesn’t exist the way I have. He’s spent that time strategizing and planning. Turning himself into a goddamn slayer of boogeymen, and I’m willing to bet that he’s good at it.

  “One week, Belle,” he whispers. “I know you have a life and work and probably all kinds of crazy commitments. But give me one week. Take this trip with me.”

  I think about the contract waiting for me in my room, pink post-its marking all the places I’m supposed to sign. The glint in Catie’s eyes when she talked about wanting my job. Pulling on my old skating costume, night after night, and pasting on a smile while watching other people perform the tricks that brought me such joy.

  “I’m quitting the showcase anyway,” I blurt out. Relief floods through me at finally giving voice to that forbidden thought and getting it out in the open. Yes. Of course I should quit. It’s torture and I don’t need the money, not enough to put myself through that night after night. Month after month. Year after year.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” My voice is strong and sure. “I think it was good for me at first, to be back at the rink. It helped me face up to what I lost. But I did that, and now it’s just making me sad.”

  “What else would you want to do?”

  For once, my mind is perfectly blank. No images. No worries. Nothing.

  “No idea,” I say. “I’ve never really had time to figure that out.”

  I will, though. I don’t know if I’ll ever find anything I loved as much as skating, but there has to be more to life than endlessly reenacting a weak echo of what used to be.

  He twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. “You’ll be amazing at anything you try.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He gives me a slow, lazy grin that makes every muscle in my body melt, particularly the ones below my waist.

  “A lot more of what we just did, hopefully.”

  My cheeks heat. “And after that?”

  “Go to the island. Spend time with Jake. Not a hell of a lot, at first. Eventually I’m thinking of starting a sports media company.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Like your father?”

  “Nothing like my father,” he says vehemently. “A small online thing, totally focused on the sports, not on exploiting the athlete’s personal lives or turning them into celebrities. Doing all my father’s errands has given me a lot of contacts, and I think there’s a need out there, you know? I don’t want an empire, only a little corner of the media world for people who want their extreme sports without the manufactured scandals and the bullshit.”

  He ducks his head like he’s embarrassed, and I push his hair out of his eyes and tilt his chin back up. “That sounds amazing.”

  He shrugs. “I’m still playing with the idea.”

  I flop down beside him. “It’s a brilliant idea. And there is definitely a need for sports news without the bullshit.”

  “Yeah, I saw the interview.” He winces. “Catie really blindsided you, huh?”

  “She wants my job. She gave another interview later in the day talking about how she wouldn’t blame me if I was too scared to show up and Kimmy has been calling it our ‘showdown’ ever since, even though that makes no sense since Catie will be skating and I’ll be sitting on my ass in the audience.”

  “Kimmy’s ratings are down and she’s trying to make a scandal out of nothing to bring in the viewers.”

  I roll my eyes. “Right. Toe picks at dawn, I guess.”

  “And Catie’s joining in because she wants to humiliate you. You beat her right before your accident and now she’ll never know if you would’ve kept beating her. Every time someone talks about her accomplishments, they drop in your name right after a big old ‘what if’ and she’s a jealous bitch.”

  I stare up at him. Wow. “Given this some thought, hav
e you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Any thoughts on what I should do? I don’t care about the job, obviously. Let her have it. But if I show up tomorrow, Kimmy will spend the whole time humiliating me on camera, which will get Catie tons of publicity. So she’ll win. And if I don’t show up, she’ll still win because she’ll spin it like I’m a coward who’s too scared and damaged to sit through the final. That’s where I was going tonight. To the rink. To try and build up my courage to face it all tomorrow.”

  “Does it matter if she wins?”

  I sigh. “I guess not. It’s just, I’d rather leave on my own terms, you know? Not feel like she’s chasing me out. Try to control my own story.”

  He’s silent for a moment, playing with my hair again. Then he lowers himself back down next to me and pulls me into his arms. I cuddle in, safe and warm, and again that feeling of total rightness floods through me. This is where I belong, I know it, so what am I waiting for?

  “I’ll go with you,” I say. “To the island. We can leave anytime. Tonight even.”

  His arms tighten around me. “Are you sure?”

  I pull away just enough so I can lift my head and look into his eyes. “Completely.” I take a deep breath and gather my courage. He held his heart out to me when he asked me to go to the island, and now I want to offer mine to him. I feel it thumping in my chest, fast and wild, like it’s trying to escape. To get to him.

  And just like that, it’s easy to be brave. He’s worth the risk, and I want—no, I need—him to know it.

  “I love you.”

  My voice is quiet, but I know he hears me because his eyes go wide. He opens his mouth to speak but I put a finger across his lips. I need to get this out.

  “I love you,” I say again, louder this time. “I never stopped. You’re worth any risk.”

  His answer is to reach his tongue out to lick my finger, then suck it into the wet heat of his mouth. If I were wearing panties, they would be melting. As it is, we’re definitely going to have to pony up the cash to dry clean this coat.

  He releases my finger and pulls me on top of him, lining us up so I can feel his hard cock right pushing against my core. “I love you too.” He cradles the back of my head in his big hands and pulls me in for a soft kiss.

  “I’ve loved you since you told me about that constipated walrus, and I always will. I’m yours, Belle Garland. And you. Are. Mine.”

  He moves on those final words, lowering one hand so he can line himself up at my entrance. I’m so wet and ready that he pushes inside easily, claiming me with his words and his body, his eyes so full of love that it’s almost hard to hold his gaze. Dangerously intimate. Every second flaying me open deeper and wider, exposing everything I have to lose.

  Or maybe everything I have to gain, if I’m brave enough.

  He moves slowly inside me, pushing up hard so his pubic bone hits my clit on every thrust. I slide my legs along the slippery fur and straddle him, rising up to get him as deep as I can. I want to feel him everywhere, so far inside me that he’ll be there forever.

  He grabs my hands, lacing our fingers together and holding tight as I roll my hips. The tension inside me builds, pleasure spiraling tighter and tighter. I don’t need to chase this orgasm; it’s coming for me slow and steady, and I know Gabe will make sure it finds me.

  He tugs one of my hands to his mouth and drops wet kisses over my knuckles, then drags it down to where our bodies are joined. I feel his thumb on my clit, rubbing little circles that feel so good I cry out his name. Our hands are still intertwined so my fingers are right there too, feeling my own wetness, touching the thick root of his cock as he keeps up his steady thrusts.

  “You’re everywhere,” I gasp. Inside me. Under me. Holding me. Nestled in my heart. All the places I need him.

  “I’ll always be there,” he promises. “Come for me, Belle. I want to feel you.”

  One more flick of his thumb and a hard snap of his hips and I do exactly what he says, closing my eyes and throwing my head back, riding a wave of pleasure so intense that I see stars. Hell, I am the stars; my whole body exploding, shimmering, burning, waves of light and heat rushing through me as I come.

  He yells my name and drops my hands so he can grab my hips, pumping up hard into me, prolonging my orgasm with his own. When the waves recede, I collapse on top of him, careful to keep him inside me. Not ready to let the moment go.

  “We should definitely leave tonight,” I whisper after a few minutes. “Just go grab our stuff and sneak out. We know the way now, right?”

  Creep out the basement tunnel and emerge into a brand new life.

  He shakes his head. “We’re not sneaking anywhere.”

  One last long, deep kiss and he rolls me off him, making sure I’m covered and cozy in our makeshift blankets before he grabs his clothes and starts pulling them on.

  “We’re going,” he tells me. “But we’re walking out the front door with our heads held high. I’ve got a plan.”

  “A plan?”

  He nods decisively and holds up his hand, counting off the steps on his fingers. “One, get the fuck out of this closet. Two, find some food to build up my strength so I can spend whatever’s left of the night worshipping your body in a real bed.” He crinkles his forehead, like he’s thinking hard. “Then maybe the shower.”

  “So far I approve of this plan,” I tell him, looking around for my clothes.

  “Three,” he continues. “Give the photographers one last show that will make them forget all about Catie and her poisonous attempt to hijack your story. Four, disappear to the island. There are a lot more steps involving beds and you naked, but I can detail those later. Sound good?”

  I hug the fur to me and smile. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Great.” He jumps up and starts digging through the trunk. “You get dressed, I’ll break us out of here, and we’ll get started.”

  He raises an eyebrow when I linger on the ground. “You want to add something?”

  “Can we steal one of these coats?”

  He laughs. “You like those, huh?”

  “Mmmmm.” I rub the fur over my nipples and he swallows. Hard. Then he makes a strangled noise that I decide to take as a yes, but I still don’t move.

  “You really think it will be that easy? Just…bailing out on everything?”

  He drops to his knees and kisses me so deep and wet and dirty that I try to pull him back down into the fur to go another round.

  “Trust me.”

  And that’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, so I stand up and go.

  8

  Gabe

  It’s afternoon the next day when I finally make it back to my own room. After unearthing a screwdriver last night, I managed to take the knob off the door and get us out of the closet. Weirdly, I almost didn’t want to leave once it was possible. Not sure if we’ll ever come back to Sochi, but if we do, I can see making a trip back down there to reminisce.

  And by reminisce I mean, get Belle naked and make her come until she’s forgotten everything except how to scream my name.

  We spent what was left of the night in her room, though we didn’t get much sleep. I left when Zoe called, to give Belle some privacy. I certainly have no love for Belle’s sister—those security guards in Boston pretty much killed the possibility of any kind of positive connection between the two of us—but Belle is a nicer person than I am. She’s hoping that she and Zoe can work out some kind of post-skating relationship, and for her sake I hope so too.

  Not everyone has a scorched-earth policy when it comes to family relationships.

  My phone is vibrating on the nightstand where I left it, but I ignore it in favor of a shower, standing under the hot water for a long time, going over my plan again and again until I’m sure it’s perfect. The first step is the one I’m least looking forward to, but I’ve always been the guy who gets the burpees out of the way first, so as soon as I’m dressed I bite the bullet, pick up the phone, and call my fath
er.

  “Where were you last night? You wasted a golden opportunity to capitalize on that medal.”

  No greeting. No pleasantries. No small talk.

  No surprise.

  “I was busy,” I say shortly.

  “Busy?” He snorts and I hear the squeak of his office chair as he gets up. I can see him in my mind, pacing to the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of his desk, looking out on his kingdom of Manhattan. Standing up means he knows this call is going to be a challenge.

  “Who were you so busy with?”

  “Belle Garland,” I say shortly. No point in hiding it, he’ll find out she’s back in my life soon enough.

  “Ah, Belle. Shame about her accident. She was very talented, and now…” he trails off, baiting me to defend Belle, wanting me to get worked up and emotional so he can manipulate the situation.

  He has no idea who he’s dealing with.

  “I’m leaving Sochi today,” I continue, ignoring his mention of Belle completely.

  “Eager to get back here?” He chuckles. “That’s fine. I’ll send the jet.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” I stand up myself now, balancing on the balls of my feet, finding my center. “I’ve got a flight booked, but I won’t be coming back to New York.”

  “A little R-and-R, huh? Well, I guess you’ve earned it.”

  Earned what exactly? The right to live my own life? He forgets that I’m not an employee, although it’s true that being his son feels like a job.

  “I won’t be back.”

  I quit.

  Silence for a few moments, stretching out so long that I know he’s doing it on purpose. Making me uncomfortable, trying to get me to jump in with words he can manipulate, trying to make me feel like a little boy who broke a fucking vase and is scared of being punished, instead of a grown man who doesn’t need to take this shit.