Page 52 of Head Over Skis

‘Is this all right?’

His breath is hot against my bare skin and I shudder, pressing my body further into his.

‘Are you kidding? I’ve thought about this ever since I left your place. I’ve thought about you doing this to me when I’ve been lying in my bed here,’ I admit, worrying that’s too much.

But he groans near my ear at my confession, and before I know it, he’s released his grip on my wrists and used his hands to spin me back around. He rests his forearm on the door above my head, his body towering over me as his chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. His hair is mussed from where my hands have dragged and tugged at it.

‘Tell me,’ he says, his tone commanding. ‘Tell me what you’ve imagined me doing to you there.’

He tilts his head over to the unmade bed to the side of us, and I bite at my bottom lip, embarrassed to admit all the things I thought to myself that first night.

I struggled with the guilt of picturing Rory, when it used to be only Adam who filled my thoughts in those kinds of moments. It felt wrong, disloyal. But now with Rory here, and the reassurance that he feels the same way about me, I realise there’s no way something that feels this right could ever be wrong.

I duck out from under his arm and walk over to the bed, positioning myself so I’m lying with my head propped up against the headboard.

‘It started like this,’ I say, peering down at the sports leggings and fleece that I’m still wearing. ‘Except I was wearing less clothing.’

‘I can help with that,’ Rory says, taking two long strides, which bring him to the foot of the bed.

He gently lifts my ankles, shifting them up towards me so my knees bend, then he positions himself between my open thighs. I can barely think as his hands travel up to the waistband of my leggings, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric and hooking around it so he can pull them down.

The cold air wraps around every inch of my exposed skin as he drags the leggings off torturously slowly. Once he’s finally removed them completely, he throws them over his shoulder and smirks as he moves closer, his hands circling my thighs and his chin lowering until it’s above my belly button.

‘And then?’ he asks with a wicked look, knowing he’s about to make me say every dirty thought I’ve had about him out loud.

I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it. I’ve never been the type to be vocal about what I want, happy to let Adam be the one in control, even if there were things I secretly wished he’d do more of. As if sensing my hesitation, Rory shifts, his lips brushing my stomach as he brings his mouth down to my burning skin.

‘How about I take a guess, and you tell me what to change if the things I’m doing don’t live up to your imagination?’

His hands massage my thighs as he places a line of kisses down my stomach. He pauses before straightening back up, his body moving away from mine and I don’t realise I’m pouting because of the distance until Rory starts to laugh.

‘Don’t worry, I’m just making sure we’re even,’ he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and removing his shirt in one fluid motion.

Even though I’ve seen it before, I’m no less mesmerised by the muscles that cover every inch of his body. I want to run my hands along them, but before I can sit up and touch him, he’s moved again.

My thoughts are paralysed as he continues his earlier journey down my body, travelling lower and lower.

When I woke up this morning, I never believed this is how my day would go. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let anything like this happen with him, but we’re here now, alone, and no one needs to know.

His tongue brushes against the place I’ve longed to have him again, and I prepare for the utter ecstasy that will be his—

‘Did you hear that?’

Rory freezes, and I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t know what he’s talking about until I hear it too. Voices.

‘Fuck,’ I curse under my breath, manically trying to formulate a plan for how to get him out of here.

Maybe he can climb out of the window? Is there a pipe out there he could shimmy down? I’m about to leap off the bed and grab something from the floor which I could wear on my bottom half, but there isn’t time.

Without knocking, the door starts to open, and a voice travels through the newly exposed gap.

‘Lotts, I’ve been thinking, and I really want to apologise again for earlier. I still think we can wo—’

His word cuts off halfway, and I don’t want to look. I don’t need to look to know that Adam is standing only a few metres away, mouth agape, looking at where Rory is kneeling.

Shirtless.

With his head between my naked thighs.