Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Read online

  Never one to back down from a challenge, she’d extinguished all eighteen of them in one breath. And now, it wasn’t eighteen orgasms, but it was safe to say that I’d just extinguished her.

  I licked my lips that were slightly swollen and numb for going down on her for the last half of them. So fucking worth it.

  “You alive, birthday girl?” I gently kissed the inside of her thigh—another earthquake rolling through her hypersensitive body.

  “Barely,” she rasped, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “I… can’t believe you did that.”

  A laugh erupted from my chest as I pressed my lips to her stomach. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  I stood up at the edge of my bed. My shirt was already off, my jeans unbuttoned after orgasm number five had turned them a unique form of torture device on my throbbing dick. Her eyes widened, noticing the erection exhibit that was about to open in my pants.

  I tipped her chin to look up at me. “Happy Birthday, Jessa.”

  Her pleasure-drunk face lifted with a smile—most fucking beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Now, can I give you a gift?”

  Her eyes twinkled as her hand reached out and grabbed my cock, almost making a fool out of myself by exploding on the spot.

  “Is this what you want?” she teased, reaching into my jeans and fisting me.

  I groaned. “I want you to blow me like you fucking blew those candles earlier—hard, fast, and with an ending that will leave my cock smoking.“

  Later, I would tell her just what watching her blow them out and then lick the icing off the bottom had done to my dick.

  With a grin that would come to mean I was in for a fucking ride, she pushed my jeans down and those perfect pink lips closed over me and breathed in my flames.

  Present

  Was I really that drunk? Or that high? Or was Jessa Madison really standing in my fucking kitchen right now with a rolling pin aimed decisively for my head?

  “Don’t make me ask you again.” The way her body shuddered was no illusion.

  She was here. Sleeping in my house. In the most enticing little silk pajamas that I’d ever seen—enticing only because they showed me every movement of her nipples, every quiver of her breath, and in about another thirty seconds, just how wet she was for me.

  “I-I’m living here.”

  She might as well have hit me with the damn rolling pin.

  “Excuse me?” The noose wrapped tighter around my throat.

  “I mean, for right now. I’m staying here.” Clearing her throat, she continued to explain. “I told Ally to tell you—and Channing. My apartment had a small mold issue several weeks ago.”

  “You’ve been living in a moldy apartment for weeks?” I felt my anger rising.

  “No! Of course not. I moved in with Tammy, but among other things, my living style is pretty stressful to her so I was looking for a new place and then Ally offered—“

  “My house?”

  “Her house.” She glared at me as I stepped towards her. “What are you doing here? Obviously, this was all under the assumption that you were living with Frost.”

  “Not anymore,” I growled.

  I’d packed up my shit this afternoon and planned on coming right over here and doing nothing for the rest of the day. Instead, I’d packed up my car and drove around for hours, finally parking at the mountain just as the lifts were closing for the evening. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to come right to the house; I also couldn’t bring myself to find Jessa and explain what had happened. So, I ended up at the mountain just after everything had closed. I’d pulled out the bottle of Powers from my bag of stuff from Frost’s along with a blunt and walked over to the empty, unmoving lift and sat down on the bench.

  It was the story of my life right there—on the chairlift that was supposed to take me to the peak, instead I was trapped at the bottom. I sipped the whiskey in between puffs, letting both work their magic on calming my mind and my anger—trying to feel nothing. Aside from coming to watch Channing, this was the first time I’d been back at the mountain.

  And it was still here—just like I’d left it—waiting patiently for me to find my way back to its solidarity. My body shook as the wind blew right through me. It was fucking cold outside and I wasn’t dressed for it.

  But that was the point of the cold, wasn’t it?

  To drown out every other sense. To distill. To solidify and clarify the world down to the most basic—down to the most important. My body tingled as the feeling slipped away from my limbs, an elucidating numbness where only my thoughts were left—them and whatever was in my heart. In my case, they were one and the same; they were all consumed by her.

  I’d been trying to avoid her and it looked like she’d found me anyway. Me and all of my fucking feelings.

  My fingers twitched with the need to press on her temple and make the furrow between her brows disappear.

  “What happened?”

  “Something fucked up.” I laughed harshly, suddenly overwhelmed with disgust and bone-chilling pity for what my best friend was going through. “There are fucking shitty people in this world, Jessa, you know that? Most days, I think I have it bad with a bum-fucking-knee and no future.” Disdain dripped heavily from my voice, cracking through the silence with its weight.

  “What happened? Is everyone ok?” Pure, unfiltered worry seeped into her tone and posture. I found myself wanting to talk, the sea of anger that I’d surrounded myself parting, beckoning her through.

  “Everyone is fine. For now. But the next few months are going to be hell for Frost.” My jaw ticked. Frost’s story wasn’t mine to tell. “I went to the mountain.”

  “You shouldn’t be putting that strain on your knee—“

  “Calm down, Nurse Ratchett. I went there after it closed. Just sitting.”

  “Thinking about what?”

  “My life. Snowboarding.” I heard the hoarse words resound through the room and that meant that they must have come from me. “Channing and Olsen want me to teach at the school. I don’t even know if that’s fucking possible or that I’m really worth the effort.” My hand gripped onto the counter as I fought not to slam my fist into it. “I feel so fucking lost, J-bird. I feel like I’m fucking nothing and no one without this.” My eyes found hers, pinning her stare before I added, “Just like I felt without you.”

  They were words that I hadn’t even said aloud to myself before because volume implies veracity. I hated my weakness. I hated her for being the only one I couldn’t stop myself from opening up to. Her. The one who’d broken my heart.

  I saw her swallow as she ducked her head at the last part of my admission. Just as swiftly, her gaze rose again.

  “I think we both know that’s not true,” she replied tartly—ignoring the last part of my statement—because a pity party was only what every other woman would do right now. Not Jessa. “But only if you actually show up for your physical therapy, though, because I can’t make any promises if you don’t.”

  “Sorry,” I grumbled, about to mutter something about Frost but realizing that there was no excuse for leaving her hanging. I was angry about what was happening to Frost, about his past coming back to haunt him, and that anger translated over to Jessa.

  Her arms folded over her chest, only helping to lift up those tits like she was about to serve them to me on a fucking platter. “You know I’m going to make you pay for it at your next appointment.” Her adrenaline-infused threat made me laugh. She was so serious about it though that my tongue itched to tell her that she wasn’t very menacing when her eyes were heavy with desire, her words breathless, and when her tits looked like they could—and would—cut through ice to get to my touch.

  “Yes.” My thumb and finger captured her chin. “But, you do know that now you’re the one who’s homeless. In my house. Wearing something that does nothing to hide how much you want me—in spite of how annoyed you are.” Her self-satisfied smile melted. “You’re the one who is at my mercy ton
ight. You’re the one that I want.”

  I moved my head closer to hers, my dick twitching at her sharp intake of breath. Her body would tell me the truth even as I waited for the lies she would try to slip from her lips.

  Lips. Perfect. Plump. Pink. I wanted to suck on them so fucking bad. And then I wanted them to suck on me.

  “Have you been smoking?” She breathed against me, my mouth almost touching hers.

  “And drinking,” I growled, not in the mood right now for a righteous speech.

  “Why?” She stepped back, putting herself up against the counter with no further space to move.

  “Should be obvious.” I followed her. “Trying to forget.” After today and everything with Frost, she was the only thing that would give me release. My first stroke of luck this whole fucking year that she was literally waiting for me when I got home.

  “Forget what?”

  “That I’m an asshole to everyone and everything when my reality could be so much worse. That there seems to be this insurmountable wall preventing me from moving past anything—from feeling anything but anger; it’s so fucking exhausting. Except around you.”

  “Why around me?”

  My hands gripped the counter on either side of her and I smiled, “Because I want you too fucking bad to think about anything else.”

  Her hands came up against my chest, but even they betrayed her by not pushing me away.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, my head dipping closer.

  “Should still be obvious, J-bird.” My hips rocked forward of their own accord, just brushing against the front silk of her shorts. Fuck, I wanted to be inside that pussy so damn bad.

  “And if it’s not?” Fucking tease.

  I groaned, letting my head fall down against her neck. “Trying to feel something good for the first time since I don’t even know when; and the only good thing I can think of around me is you.”

  Her pulse raced against my lips. Her skin was so soft, smelling like cherries and cheer. I kissed the same spot again and again, gently paying reverence to the woman who could still very well be some sort of drunken, hallucinogenic dream.

  “Remember the time I fucked you on this counter?” I asked softly against her neck. “I mean the time the ice was involved.” I groaned at the memory. Lately, I lived on these memories. “You came so hard on my fingers I thought your ass was going to fucking strangle the life from my dick. God, I miss…” I swallowed the ‘you.’ I wasn’t that far gone.

  She tensed and I waited for it—for the shitty end to a shitty day, for her to push me away or duck underneath my arms because I’d gone too far, running back up to Ally’s room and continuing the slam-click routine that it was used to.

  And it began—her hands dropped from my chest and I felt her start to pull back.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, seeing burningly bright fireworks in front my eyes as her palm closed over my dick. Was this for real?

  “What are you doing, J-bird?” I was in no shape to be teased. Her other hand pushed on my chest and forced me to stand. My eyes briefly squeezed shut as her fingers slid up my cock to the edge of my sweats.

  “Should be obvious, Chance,” she returned my answer. Of course, she did. And then I felt my sweatpants slip over my hips and down around my ankles. This was how I’d fallen so fucking blindingly in love with her.

  I stared in a daze down at my cock bobbing in front of her face; my lips twitched. I could see every pulse of the vein that ran along its side all the way up to the blunt purple head, the damn thing desperate to be rammed down her hot, wet throat.

  She grinned up at me before closing those perfect, pink lips over the darkened head of my cock and the world around me fell into the vacuum that was Jessa Madison’s hot, wet mouth. The fact that I stumbled back had nothing to do with the alcohol or the weed. My fingers disappeared through the pink waves of her hair, holding the storm that was her tongue hard as I began to rock into her.

  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as my enormous cock choked her with each thrust. Pink strands cut into the circulation of my fingers as I tugged on her head. It was probably painful for her, but she thrived on it, sucking me in so far, I felt her throat spasm with a cough. I held for a split second, the clench of those muscles was mind-numbing before pulling back and letting her suck down air before repeating the motion. Intermittent suffocation it seemed was ok; she wanted my cum down her throat more than she needed air.

  “Jessa…” I lost myself in her. In us. Her fingers dug into my hips as I ground against her—all of my frustration, all of my helplessness, all of my self-loathing melting underneath her tongue.

  She was a fucking mystery.

  She was fucking magic.

  I felt like I was back in high school again—on the verge of coming because I had zero control of what her mouth was doing to me. I didn’t know how she was taking so much of my dick but I was mesmerized watching it disappear inside of her, listening to the sounds of my slick flesh sliding into the suction of her mouth. So, I pushed harder—and she took it. She pulled me deeper, the tip of my cock marking the back of her throat.

  “Your mouth belongs to me,” I bit out. In response, her tongue pressed hard along the sensitive side of my dick and I almost fucking came.

  I thrust myself deeper into her hotness, wanting to feel confident that I was touching something that no other fucker she’d given head to in the past eight years had.

  “You belong to me.” I was a possessive fucking prick and I didn’t give a fucking shit about it either. What I did care about was the way she goddamn swallowed around my cock and how that made her throat close around my engorged, pulsing head.

  One hand slid up to cup my balls and I lost it, roaring her name as I finally found the release that had eluded me for the past however many weeks since I’d seen her again. No matter what relief I’d found myself or with Monroe, it wasn’t this. Nothing and no one but her could ever give me this.

  “Take it all,” I rasped.

  And she did. She locked her lips tight around my dick like it held a fucking secret and let my cum fill up her mouth before she swallowed.

  I hissed at the sensation.

  Tipping her head back, I caught the golden flecks in her eyes as I slowly slipped my cock from her mouth. She only gave me a second to enjoy the sight of her on her knees, lips swollen and wet with my desire, and my dick right in front of her face. My thumb brushed over her lower lip.

  “Having you suck my dick is probably the closest I’ll ever come to heaven.” She rolled her eyes and stood. “What? Just thought you should know.”

  “Goodnight, Chance,” she sighed and began to step around me.

  My hand on her arm stopped her. “Why?” I wasn’t joking anymore. I needed to know why she didn’t run. I’d expected her to. And she should have.

  “Because I wanted to make you feel good.” Simple response. Complex answer.

  “And do you want to feel good?” I wanted to taste her come apart.

  “I can’t.”

  “But you want to.” To emphasize the statement, my finger reached out and brushed over her taut nipple. “Just let me taste you, J-bird.”

  “No. This might be a mistake, but that definitely would be. I need to get better at resisting you, not worse.”

  “Jessa,” I chuckled at her sudden wave of caution. “You can’t resist me. You can pretend all you want but just look at you—your tits are raising a fucking hand asking to be sucked, your pussy is turned on like a fucking faucet begging to give me a drink, and your mouth just swallowed my dick like it was the first drink of your damn seltzer water on a hot summer day. You. Are. Mine.”

  “You’re wrong.” Her eyes glittered.

  “Well, I still have two more hot, tight parts of you to claim so you have two more chances to prove it,” I smirked. “But, after tonight, I can’t say it’s looking good for you J-bird.”

  She tugged her arm from me and made for the stairs. By the time I got my
sweats up and began to follow her, Ally’s door shut and I heard the lock engage.

  Dammit. Maybe she didn’t need me quite as badly as I needed her.

  Maybe I was drunk, the way I still finished the stairs and stood frozen outside the door. I wasn’t going to knock—it was late and I wasn’t going to beg. Just as I finally turned, sufficiently sated and exhausted enough to make sleeping soundly a distinct possibility I heard it—and the sound stopped me dead in my tracks.

  Softly, at first. Then with a growing intensity and strain that turned my entire body rock-solid.

  Moaning.

  Like a fucking teenager, I stood with my ear practically pressed against the door as I listened to Jessa as she pleasured herself to the thought of me. Even with the dead silence of the middle of the night, I couldn’t hear her fingers sliding through her wet folds, rubbing impatiently against her clit—but I imagined it. Holding onto the doorframe, I closed my eyes and let her mewls, gasps, and moans guide me through her pleasure. They grew louder and I could fucking hear how she was biting her lip trying to—unsuccessfully—quell the small screams of pleasure from escaping. And then she came.

  How did I know?

  Because I heard my name echoing against the door. If I would have stayed in the kitchen—or gone down to my room—I would have missed it. I would have missed the way my name sizzled through the room like steam, slipping underneath the edge of the door for my listening pleasure.

  I’d been relieved. I’d been one-hundred-fucking-percent sated. And then, like an idiot, I’d had to follow her up here and listen as she finger-fucked herself behind closed doors to my image instead of just letting me be the one to give it to her.

  Now, I was frustrated on so many levels. But it was worth it because I’d heard the one thing that proved me right.

  Tonight, it may have just been to the thought—the memory—of me, but soon I would be very fucking real and really fucking her because Jessa Madison belonged to me.