His eyes soften, and he nods. “Was it too much?”
Instantly, I shake my head. “I just don’t want to ruin our week.”
His hands cup my jaw. “It won’t. You have me, whatever happens. But it would be cool if you get on with them too.” And then he kisses me, his mouth meeting mine as if we’ve been kissing for months and years. It’s searching and beseeching, full of ardor. And yet, it tastes of dangerous thrills. Of my surrender.
I’m so wet, so desperate for relief, I shamelessly push myself against his groin. Like Brecken, he’s also hard, and I take enormous satisfaction from that, but he’s too tall. Sensing what I need, Luca pushes his thigh between my legs, allowing me to grind on it like a porn star. He helps me along, shifting me over and over as my body inexorably climbs to the peak. When I come, I’m so exhausted from all the build-up and excitement that I can barely stand. I sag into his body, Luca drinking my cries of ecstasy until all I feel are his lips resting against mine in an almost kiss.
“When it’s me who makes you come, I’m going to drink down every whimper and cry, Winter. Those are mine, only mine, even if this body isn’t.”
He’s giving me carte-blanche to fuck his friends. To have a turn with them.
When I come to my senses, I unwrap my arms from around him and take a step back. It’s been an intense evening, and while I’ve survived worse than some french kissing and grinding on some guys, I’ve not fooled around with three men at the same time.
Reuben leans over the back of the couch with a friendly smile on his face. Brecken has settled nearby, his arms crossed and his expression dark.
“See you all in the morning,” I say, checking for my cell.
“Take our numbers. Text us that you got back okay,” Reuben instructs.
The offer has my chest constricting. It’s a sweet one, considerate and caring. It’s the sort of request family would make, and I don’t have a family.
While I input their details into my cell, Luca suggests, “Don’t come in until eight thirty at the earliest. But bring your skis if you want to come with.”
I cast my eyes around the room. It needs a thorough tidy. Plus I could do with some alone time, and the boys probably do too. “I’ll see you at the later time, but I’ll pass on the skiing. Maybe next time.”
“We’re going to hold you to that,” Reuben says before I wish them all goodnight.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“What time do you call this?”Elias snarks, appearing out of the staff room like a malevolent ghost.
“I was asked to stay late last night. With the new guests arriving, they partied it up. They wanted to sleep in today and asked me to arrive at eight-thirty with breakfast. I sent you a text,” I remind him.
Checking his watch—it’s 8.17 AM—Elias bristles but holds in any further criticism. “Let’s hope they remember their drunken request, and that this doesn’t cost us.”
He stalks off, while I throw imaginary grenades at his retreating back.
After collecting supplies from the kitchen, I head outside to the cabin. My feet make new prints in the fresh snow, and I hunger for a few hours on the slopes. Inside, it’s warm and quiet. Occasionally, there’s the odd noise, like the guys are up and getting ready, but I just focus on my tasks this morning.
Even though I’ve already had a much-needed coffee, I make myself another. The bin is overflowing with empties, so I remove the liner and place it by the front door, ready for recycling. I put all the food on the table, setting it for three. After switching on the Christmas tree lights I wait.
Shortly after, Reuben enters in sweatpants and a t-shirt. When he sees me, his gaze slowly morphs from a dimpled smile to that of a lion roaming the savannah. Either way, it’s a great start to the day.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
Using his muscular forearms as props, one of which is deliciously inked, he rests against the island and just blatantly looks at me with those bright amber eyes. “How are you?”
“Good. No hangover, but a teeny bit tired.” It’s not what he’s asking, but that’s all I’m prepared to discuss right now,
“Yeah, same.” He scans the room behind him. “Did I beat Balzer?”
Bal-zer.
“Beat who?”
“Luca. His middle name is some weird ancient name that he can’t seem to shake.”