by Cathryn Fox
“This was a great idea,” Cara says, moving easily in her snowshoes. She’s obviously worn them before, natural athlete that she is.
Tate and I are each handed a pair of snowshoes from the coordinator. “How do you even put these on?” I ask as I drop them in front of myself.
“Sit,” Tate demands, and I lower myself onto the bench. “First, you have to figure out which is left and right.” He picks mine up and switches them, as he goes to his knees in front of me and opens up all the straps. I grin at him, liking him in this position, and from the heat in his eyes when they lift to mine, he knows where my mind is going. “Slide your foot in.” I do as he says, and he positions the toe of my boot before he tightens the straps. He reaches for the heel, and uses some sort of ratchet to tighten it. “Easy,” he says, and fits me with the other.
I glance up to see Cara and Amber grinning at me. Then Amber says something sexual about getting to all the bases and Cara laughs. A whistle is blown, and we’re all given positions on the snowy field. The bases are marked with bright orange rubber-covered bags, easy to see in the snow. They put me in outfield, and Tate plays shortstop. Amber is on second base, and Cara is catcher.
The first ball is hit, and I let out a surprised squeal as it comes my way. I run in the shoes, and my feet tangle. Within seconds, I’m facedown in the snow, and Tate is picking me up. His expression is worried as he brushes snow from my cheeks; but then he’s grinning when he sees I’m okay.
“Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride.”
“Maybe you’ll get a prize for best face-plant,” he teases, and I scoop up snow and throw it at him. Being with him, in this place, makes me feel like a kid again. He helps me to my feet as the runner moves around the bases and the guy in left field searches for the ball. It’s all hilarious really, and I can’t help but laugh, my insides warm and happy. My God, when was the last time I was ever this happy?
We all position up again and for the next fifteen minutes we play. Now that I’ve figured out how to move in snowshoes, I’m doing pretty darn good, and I love how Tate keeps looking over his shoulder to check on me. After three strikes, we come off the field and take our turn hitting the ball. I strike out, naturally, but stand on the sidelines with Cara and Amber as Tate makes it to second base.
I clap, and can only imagine I’m beaming, because Amber elbows me. I turn to her, and my smile fades when I find her eyes narrowed, worry backlighting her eyes as her gaze moves over my face.
“What?” I ask, my heart beating a little faster in my chest.
“You like him.”
“Yeah, I like him. I wouldn’t be sleeping with him if I didn’t like him.”
“No, Summer. You like him, like him. It’s written all over your face.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, not about to admit it to my friends, since I’m not about to admit it to myself.
“I’m afraid it is.” She takes my hand in hers. “He’s a bartender at a resort in the Swiss Alps. You’re a physician from the US.”
“It’s just sex,” I say, my stomach tight, as I search the field to find Tate watching us carefully. I look him over, take in his expensive-looking boots and coat. He puts his hand on his chest, brushes away the snow. Something niggles in the back of my mind. I reach for it, but can’t quite grasp it.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” I lie, even though I know she can see right through it.
“I can see why you’re falling for him.” Amber follows my gaze to the field, and she expels a heavy breath. “But do you really even know each other?”
He’s fun, kind, easy to be with, amazing in bed and so protective of me. But I don’t say any of that.
“Does he even know who you are, Summer?”
“He doesn’t know I’m a doctor,” I say, and glance at her.
She frowns. “You’ve been lying to him.”
“I know.”
“We leave here in two days. I don’t want to see you going home with a broken heart,” she says quietly as she gives my hand a squeeze.
My gaze falls over Tate as he runs the bases, and I know Amber is right. I am falling for him, goddammit. How could I not? As my heart pinches and my throat tightens painfully, I know what I have to do.
“I’ll end it tonight,” I say under my breath. “Before I get in too deep,” I add, fearing that I already have. But before I end this affair, I’m going to gift myself with one more time in his bed. It’s not a want, it’s a need, and that scares the living hell out of me.
Tate reaches home base, and the crowd goes crazy. He’s breathless when he steps up to us, unaware of our conversation. His knuckles brush mine through my gloves. “Who’s up for snow cones?” he asks, and my heart squeezes more. He’s right, he doesn’t forget anything.
Amber checks the time. “We have a spa appointment,” she says. “But that was fun. Thanks, Tate,” she says, and loops her arm in Cara’s.
As they head off, Tate dips his head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You guys looked like you were having a pretty serious conversation.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Want to talk about it?”
I take a breath, and let it out slowly. It turns to fog in front of my face as I think about returning home to the States, back to my real world. This is a fantasy. A fun, real-life fantasy, but that’s all it is or can ever be. Right? “No, actually I don’t. I just want to enjoy this day.”
“Okay.” He bends and unlatches his snowshoes, and turns to do mine. He holds my arm to balance me as I step out of them.
“Now, what was it you said about snow cones?” I ask.
“I saw a cart going by. Let’s go find it,” he says, and hands our snowshoes over to the guy collecting them.
Another team makes their way out to the field for a game as I follow Tate, feeling treasured when he puts his arm around me and drags me to him. We follow the winding path leading around the resort, and up ahead Tate finds the cart, a little girl munching happily on her ice as her parents pay. I take in the child’s blond curls and get an ache in the center of my chest. The truth is, I always wanted a family of my own but never saw that happening in my future, after my bad track record with men. But with Tate, I feel closer to that dream than before...is that crazy? But even if I wanted a future with him, how could I possibly have it? I can’t uproot my life in New York and the practice I’ve been working so hard to build to be with him.
When we reach the cart, he fishes his wallet from his back pocket, but I stop him.
“This is on me,” I say, and take off my mittens. “You got the tickets to the game.”
“No,” he says firmly. “That’s not how it works when you’re with me.”
I put one hand on my hip and purse my lips. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes. “What is it with the stubborn men in my life?” I say, and he goes stiff beside me, the muscles along his jaw tightening as he clenches.
“What men?”
“I just mean...the guy who lent me his place here. He’s a stubborn man. You remind me of him in a lot of ways.”
“Yeah?” he says, and turns from me, like he doesn’t want to carry on this conversation. Wait? Does he think James is my boyfriend or something? Amber was kidding about that. Surely he realized.
“What flavor would you like?” the man asks, as he slides the lid open and scoops ice into a white cone cup.
I look over the flavoring bottles. “Blue raspberry.”
“Same,” Tate says, and I feel a new chill in the air, one that’s coming from him.
Tate pays for our treats, and the cart moves on, disappearing around one of the buildings.
I touch his arm to bring his attention back to me. “The man who lent me this place, he’s—”
A loud cry cuts my words off, and I turn. The outburst is coming from the little girl standing over her snow cone, a blue mess spreading on the ground. “Mommy, it fell,” she wails.
I glance up, but the cart is long gone. Since my own snow cone hasn’t been touched, I walk over to her and crouch down. “Here, have mine. I haven’t even touched it.”
The little girl wipes her face with the back of her mittens. She blinks up at her mom and dad. “Mommy?” she says.
“We can’t take yours,” the mother says.
“Of course you can.” I glance at Tate. “He’s pretty good at sharing.”
“Are you sure?” the dad asks.
“Positive.”
“That’s very kind of you. Let me pay for it.” The father reaches into his back pocket.
“No need.” I hand over the snow cone, and the little girl smiles at me. I stand and go back to Tate. He’s staring at me, strained blue eyes moving over my face. He’s looked at me in a lot of ways, but never like this. What is going on with him? I’m about to ask but stop when he speaks.
“He’s what?” he asks.
For a second I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Oh, he’s...a friend,” I say, not a lie. I do think of James as my friend. “Not a boyfriend, or anything like that.”
“Does he know that?”
My back starches, surprised by the question. What a strange thing to ask. “He’s fully aware of that, Tate. Believe me.”
Heavy lashes fall slowly over his eyes, and he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but when a horse-and-sleigh comes down the lane we’re walking on, his lips pinch tight, and he holds his hand up. The driver stops, and I stand there for a moment, confused. I have no idea what he was going to say, but every instinct warns, it was something serious. I fight the impulse to ask, but I’m not sure I want to know.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Summer
IT’S LATE AFTERNOON by the time we finished our sleigh ride tour of the gorgeous town, mountains and quaint shopping district. It was a breathtaking journey, and I’m so glad I got to experience it with Tate, even though he was quiet for the most part. Then again, so was I. I’m not sure what’s on his mind, but I do know what’s on mine.
“That was a lot of fun,” I say to him, and he nods in agreement. “Do you have any other surprises?” I ask.
“I might have one or two,” he says.
“Yeah?”
His steps are fast, determined, as we walk the snow-covered path toward my suite, but he turns down the lane leading to his chalet, then casts me a quick glance. “Don’t worry, it’s something you want,” he says, and I catch a flicker of heat in his eyes. I push back the emotions twisting inside me, a storm of need and desire. One more night, and then I’ll make a clean break, get my head on straight before I go home.
We hurry along the path, and he lets us inside. I keep my coat on, my body chilled from being out in the cold for so long. Tate pulls something from his pocket before he shrugs out of his coat. He kicks his boots off, sets whatever he took from his pocket on the mantel and works quickly to start a fire. He turns to me, and holds out his hand.
“Come with me,” he says.
I have no idea where he wants to take me, but I remove my boots and blindly follow. He guides me to the bathroom, and sits on the edge of the tub. I stand before him, and he unzips my coat and slides it from my shoulders.
“I want to get you warm.”
“I’ve never showered with a guy before,” I admit.
“No?” he asks, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised.
“I’m doing lots of firsts with you, Tate.”
“Good,” he says, and pulls me to him, his strong arms around my waist as he puts his face to my stomach and breathes me in. He’s acting strange, different, his touch less physical. No matter how hard I try to fight them down, emotions stir within me, wrap around my damn heart. But I don’t say a word, instead I let him undress me. Once I’m naked, he takes off his clothes, turns the shower on and adjusts the spray.
“Tonight you’re mine,” he says. “All of you. Everywhere.”
I tremble as he guides me into the shower, the hot water warming my chilled body. In seconds his hands are on me, touching me all over. His hard cock presses against my back when he turns me and places my hands on the ceramic tile. “Don’t move,” he commands.
My heart is beating double time as he lathers his hands, and runs them all over me. The smell of his soap fills my senses, and I stand on wobbly legs as he cleans me, skating his big palms over my breasts, stopping to linger on my nipples. His teeth scrape the back of my neck, and I nearly break beneath his touch.
My eyes slip shut and my breathing changes. Everything in his touch is soft, sensual, the harsh sound of his breath in opposition to his tenderness. He slides a hand down my belly, between my legs, cups my mound and just holds me for a moment. Then he rinses the soap from his hand and two stiff fingers are inside me. My body quakes, and I move my hips, needing depth, friction, but he pulls out of me. He brings his fingers to his mouth, and tastes what he’s done to me. I whimper, desperate for more, to get his cock inside me...everywhere. I gulp at that thought. Wait, did he mean—
“Turn,” he orders.
I push off the wall and face intense eyes, and my heart nearly stalls. His nostrils flare as he hands me the soap. I lather up, and the second I put my hands on his body, his eyes pinch shut. I caress him, palm his hard muscles and take his thick, heavy cock into my hands.
“Fuck,” he says, his voice an agonized whisper. “That feels good.”
Once I have him entirely soaped, I walk into him, curl my arms around his body, and we back up until we’re under the spray. His heart pounds against my cheek, and the fast beat matches mine. The spray washes us clean, and then Tate turns the tap off. He helps me out, and wraps me in a towel before knotting one around his waist.
The fire is blazing by the time we make our way to the front room, and Tate runs the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “I want you right here, like we did that first night.” He gestures with a nod. “Why don’t you go get some blankets and pillows. I’ll pour us a drink.” I hurry to the main level bedroom, tug the sheet off the bed and grab some pillows. I find Tate sipping brandy, his cock tenting the towel when I come back.
“Lay them out,” he says.
I drop the blankets and go down on all fours. He growls and that’s when I realize what he’s up to. A little jolt of pleasure goes through me as I take my time, crawling around on the blankets, my ass in the air, wide-open and vulnerable, giving the ass man the show he clearly wants.
He drops to his knees behind me, slides one powerful arm around my stomach and lifts me. My back hits his chest, and he puts the glass in front of me. “Drink,” he says.
I take a small sip, and love the way it burns, and warms me from the inside out. Warm hands slide over my breasts, one flattens on my throat and I tilt my head back, until my head is lying against his shoulder. His other hand goes to my sex and he slides a finger in. He swirls it around, and I grow wetter for him.
“I’ve had you here,” he murmurs into my ear. I cry when he pulls his fingers out and runs them over my breasts. “I’ve had you here.” He slides his hand up farther, puts his fingers into my mouth to allow me to taste myself. “And I’ve had you here,” he says, as I suck on his fingers. He pulls out with a plop, and those deft fingers go to my backside. “But I’ve not had you here,” he growls, his hand sliding over my ass. He runs his finger along my crevice.
“No one has had me there,” I admit.
“I know.”
“How do you—”
“I just do, but I love it when you’re honest with me like this.”
Guilt weaves its way into my thoughts, and I push them back. I never told Tate the truth about me for a reason, and
after tonight, after we part ways, none of it matters. We’ll both have erotic memories to draw on, and the truth won’t matter. Right?
“I’ll always be honest when I’m with you like this, Tate. And right now, I want your cock in my mouth.”
“Tonight, I give the orders,” he growls in my ear. “Now lie down.” I set the glass of brandy down, move away from him and position myself on my back. Tate grabs a pillow and places it under my head. He’s on his knees, his hands on his cock, stroking himself, and my throat dries.
“I want you to tell me exactly what you want,” I say, gazing up at him.
“Spread your legs.”
I surrender to his orders, and he climbs over me. In one quick thrust he’s pounding into me. I briefly close my eyes.
“Open your eyes. I want to see you when you come all over my cock. I want you to get it all nice and wet for when I flip you over, and give us what we both want.”
My heart pounds double time in my chest as my lids flicker open. My vision goes fuzzy, the only thing I can see is this man, the tightness on his face as he joins our bodies as one. I wrap my legs around him, squeeze my sex around his magnificent length and he growls. Eyes locked, we fuck. Each taking and giving, his wet slick crown gliding easily in and out of me. I’ve not had anal sex before, and while I should be terrified, I’m not. I want this, need, in some unfathomable way, for him to mark all of me. I haven’t known Tate long, but I know enough to understand he’ll take care of my body.
His lips close over mine, and our tongues play as he brings me higher and higher, and before I know it, he’s pulled another orgasm from me. My fingers curl into the sheets, and I make a whimpering sound as pleasure bursts inside me.
“That’s it, Summer. You are so wet and hot, it’s killing me.”
I touch his face, splay my fingers and he leans into me as I ride out the waves. “I’ve never come so much in my entire life,” I say. “I’m going to miss this.”
