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“You were right, babe. I’m an asshole. I only think about myself when I’m up on that mountain or in the fucking pipe. It’s all about having fun, but it’s also my job, and it’s fucking dangerous sometimes,” he tells me.
“I know, Jesse. My dad and brother lived the same lives. Hell, Layne still rides backcountry, although that makes me want to kill him, and he knows it.”
He nods, studying my face.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re glowing, babe,” he tells me softly.
“Probably my highlighter. Being angry does that to you,” I murmur, letting my hair fall in front of eyes.
“I missed you,” he says, taking a step toward me until he is standing between my legs. He grabs my ass and pushes me against his crotch.
I wind my arms around his neck and stifle a moan when his fingers dig into my skin. The bastard even swirls his hips to show me how hard he is for me.
“I’ve never fallen for someone,” he drawls. With that one, he catches me off guard. He looks at me through hooded eyes. “Because I can’t afford it.”
“Why?” I whisper, not wanting to look him in the eyes, scared of what I might see reflected in them.
“Because I want to win; I want to ride backcountry. Chase pow whenever I feel like it. A relationship is never going to be in the cards for me.” His voice sounds hoarse.
I swallow hard. “You keep reminding me, so tell me one good reason why?”
“Let’s say I got a front-row seat when my parents split because my mom couldn’t handle this life,” he tells me, casting his eyes to the floor.
My breath catches in the back of my throat. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” I say, caressing his cheek. I run my hands through his hair, letting the strands slide through my trembling fingers.
“She left us behind. We all have our stories, babe, it’s how we write our own that will decide our future without the past fucking us up,” he says, not a hint of emotion in his voice, but there is a pained look in his eyes. He rests his forehead against mine, his hair tickling my cheekbone. “That’s more than I’ve told anyone before.”
“I know I’m the one to talk, but if you ever want to tell me more—”
“Right now, I want to fuck you,” he rasps, pulling my shirt over my head, and he wolf whistles when he finds out I’m not wearing a bra. My naked breasts stand at attention, the hard nipples showing how my heart reacts to his hungry gaze. He holds my right breast in his palm. “Damn, babe.” He pushes himself against the counter, making sure his erection presses hard against my damp panties, through my leather pants. “I want you tonight,” he says, slamming his mouth against mine.
“I want you too,” I whisper, getting lost in his kiss. I want all of him, but I’ll take any piece of him he’s willing to give.
The next morning, I wake in an empty bed, with only the sheets clinging to my naked body. Looking at the alarm clock, it’s almost twelve in the afternoon. I grab the first T-shirt I can find and put it on, then walk downstairs. There is a coffee on the counter, and some Advil and water. I smile, chugging it down. I head outside to the deck, pulling on one of his snowboard jackets I found hanging on a coatrack by the door. I smile when my feet touch the cold wood. There is a crisp chill in the air—the last twitch of winter before spring.
Jesse exits the garage and trots up the porch steps, then he kisses my forehead. I put my arms around him, and he holds me for the longest time before kissing my hairagain, letting me go.
“Thank you for last night.” I smile.
“Don’t mention it,” he says, flashing me a huge grin.
“I think we both needed that.” I giggle, thinking about the way he made me come four times.
“I think we did,” he rasps.
I take my seat in the Adirondack chair and put my feet up against the railing. His hungry eyes roam over my body. He shifts in his seat, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.
“What are you thinking about?” I pry.
“About last night,” he replies, without looking at me. Is it regret or anger I hear in his voice as he stares at the water?
“I’m going away again tomorrow to get ready for the Olympics,” he says without a hint of excitement in his voice.
I nod, taking another sip from my coffee. So that’s how it’s going to be between us.
“But I don’t want to go anymore,” he murmurs.
