Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Hollis
Each of the ten chalets at Bachelor Mountain has a private hot tub on the back patio, facing the non-skiable side of the mountain. It’s a perfect location for those guests who have spent their days out on the slope, to enjoy a relaxing, hot retreat out underneath a star-filled night.
But I did not ski all day nor am I here to soak in a hot tub. I’m only here tonight to get down to business. To talk business.
“Kellan,” I grouse, taking a generous step back to give us distance. We are far too close and feeling all-too natural to have his hands holding mine again. “I’m here to discuss your contract terms, not get freaky together in a hot tub.”
Kellan gives a quick chuckle but otherwise seems not to hear this complaint because he whips off the blue Henley over his head, and I track its flight as it flutters to the floor.
When I look back up, he’s standing in front of me shirtless, his ripped abs textured and tailored like the ridges of the mountains, his skin warm and glowing in the flickers of the firelight.
My attention follows the path of his hands which expediently unbutton his jeans, and then they fall to the floor in a puddle at his feet. Now only in his black Calvin Kleins, I swallow nervously at the sight of him.
Oh Lordy, he is perfection. I wonder if his nickname came as a result off his powerful skills on the slopes or from the slopes of his abdomen. Because I want to traverse those hills and valleys with my fingers. And my tongue.
He lets out an amused laugh. “Hollis? You okay?”
I shake my head. “Yes, of course. Just a little stunned that you’ve gotten naked in front of me and geezus, I can see the outline of your package.”
I point toward his groin, which bulges noticeably in his shorts, and I avert my eyes, but not before I see Kellan’s tongue curl over his top lip in a very seductive manner.
“You’ve seen more than the outline, Hollis.”
“Stop it. Just stop it, Kellan.” I throw my palm out in a frustrated gesture. “I’m not getting naked with you tonight. I’m here for one thing and one thing only. And that’s to get you to sign that contract.”
“Yeah, about that. I’m only going to discuss it while I’m in the tub.” Kellan strides to the back to a set of French doors leading to the patio and opens it wide.
A gust of cold, snowy air comes breezing in and I shiver again.
“Fine, you can get in the jacuzzi, and I’ll stand over there and we can discuss.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Suit yourself, but you’re going to be cold.”
I haven’t moved, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch Kellan gracefully and easily climb over the side and submerge into the heated water. Steamy heat rises around him and he lets out a gigantic groan.
“Oh God, Hollis. This feels so fucking good.”
My belly lights up with a thousand fireflies because I remember him saying that exact same thing the first time he entered me. And he says it in the same tone now. With reverence and awe.
I hastily snatch my coat off the floor and wrap it over my shoulders as I make my way to the open door, where the scent of chlorine wafts through the air and I observe Kellan’s head drop back against the side of the jacuzzi, his long, cut arms spread wide.
I let out an aggravated sigh. “Spill it, Kellan. I don’t have all night. Just tell me what your terms are.”
He lets out a noisy grunt. “Pfft. You need to relax, Hollis. Get your ass in here and relax with me for once. You know you need it. You’re so stressed and brittle, I think you just might break if you don’t unwind a little. Come on, just get in with me for ten minutes and we can talk.”
God, I hate this. I hate being manipulated by a man to do something. Just like my grandfather is manipulating me to find a husband. It’s that male ego and misogynistic behavior that infuriates me.
On the other hand, Kellan isn’t really like that. He’s a decent man. Nice to everyone. A little cocky, but he has that right based on his worldwide rankings. And he’s absolutely right. I need to unwind, and that water looks heavenly.
I blow out a grating breath and capitulate. “Fine. But only ten minutes.”
I shrug off my dress, throw off my heels and remember I’m not wearing a bra. Shit. Covering my breasts with my palms, I tell him, “Close your eyes. Don’t peek.”
He snorts but complies, I as drop a hand to the edge of the tub and stick my toes in, then dip my legs and slide in the remaining depths until the only thing above the water line is my head.
And he’s so freaking right. This is amazing, and I really do need it.
We’re quiet for a few moments, as we each breathe in the crisp mountain air, the steam rising and swirling around us like a hazy cloud of lust and bad decisions.
Rolling my shoulders to rid myself of the tension that’s been there for weeks that I’ve been avoiding, I dig my fingers into the muscles at my neck.
“Let me massage them for you.”
Kellan scoots over, closing the six feet of distance I’d left between us when I got in, his strong hands clasping around my neck.
I should tell him no. I shouldn’t let him touch me. I shouldn’t be in here with him.
But oh, my God, it feels too good to stop.
As he massages and kneads the tight ropes of tension in my neck, I steer us back to the topic we need to address, now that I’m undressed and relaxed.
“So, spill it. What is it that you need from me before you sign on with my company?”
His thumb digs into a sensitive spot and I yelp from the pressure, his hands stilling on my shoulders. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”
The pain subsides and I nod. “Yes, just sore there.”
He softens the pressure, and the ache turns into a delicious throb. Kind of like what’s going on between my legs. I don’t know what it is about getting a backrub from a man, but they do the trick every single time.
Kellan stills for a moment, in both his hands and his words, and then begins again.
“My P1 Visa expires at the end of this season.”
I turn my head to the side and peer back at him. “Okay, well you can get another one. Every competing athlete on tour or in training for an event can get one.”
“I won’t be competing any longer. This will be my last year. I mentioned that to you up front when you called.”
That’s right. And at the time, it didn’t matter to me about the length of his contract. I only needed to get a number to meet my goal. Sadly, I may have been using Kellan to reach that number.
“Okay. I can still represent you even if you’re not in the states.”
He grunts. “That’s the thing. I don’t want to leave America. I want to remain here to coach.”
I shift to turn, sitting on the edge of the bench to face him now as our knees bump underneath the water. The water licks over my chest and breasts, ripples forming over the surface.
This is news to me. I assumed he’d just move back to Switzerland. Go back to his home. To his family. To start a family. That inkling of an idea sends a stab of pain in my heart for some reason.
Kellan does something for me. I can’t explain it or put a finger on it. All I know is that after the week we spent together in the last Olympics, I walked away with a tiny piece of my heart missing.
My brain starts running through the various scenarios, calculating the many ways he could remain in the U.S.
“Well, I’m sure your new employer, whichever company takes you on, would hire you with a temporary work visa.”
His finger toys with the top of my shoulder blade, absently running a rough hand over it.
“That’s the thing. I want to start my own company.
Run my own coaching and training organization.
I know I can do it. I have the capital to invest. But I’ve researched the immigration and visa requirements and it won’t happen. I need another option.”
A crease forms in my brow as I consider what he’s saying. “Like what?”
His hand finds mine under the waterline and startles me when he interlocks his fingers with mine and tugs me to him.
“Like you.”
I’m still confused. “As your publicist, I can’t get you a work Visa.”
He drops his hand and it lands heavy on top of my thigh, his thumb leisurely stroking over my quadricep, back-and-forth, as if to soothe me.
“No, as my publicist you can’t. But as my wife, you could.”
Blink. Blink. Blink.
My mouth dries up and I look around the outside of the tub for anything to drink. Water, beer, a shot of Fireball. I don’t care what it is, just anything that will quench my sudden thirst.
“Your what?” I croak.
Kellan shifts around, both hands now on the tops of my knees, thumbs applying pressure to emphasize his seriousness.
“Listen, I’ve thought through every option, and this is the only one that will work.
That doesn’t take time to process. But you see, I couldn’t marry just anyone.
While on paper it’s just a legal thing, I want the real thing.
And I know I experienced that with you, Hollis.
It may not have been love because we didn’t have the time to explore that.
But I know I have feelings for you because it was hard as hell to leave you two years ago. ”
My head sifts through all of this and it’s too crazy to even comprehend.
“Wife?”
He nods, a rueful grin turning into a shy one. “Yeah, I know it’s weird. Crazy even.”
“Unlawful,” I add.
His cheeks flush a bright pink. “Perhaps it would be like that if I married someone who I didn’t care for or have a strong connection with.
But Hollis, you have to agree that we have something here between us.
” He jabs a finger across the water at us both.
“We’ve always had it. It’s still there. At least for me. ”
“That’s different. It’s physical. That isn’t a basis for marriage, Kellan.”
He tips his head to the side, giving me that look. That cute, puppy-dog grin that says, “don’t kid yourself.”
“People have gotten married for a lot less.”
I close my eyes and hang my head when it dawns on me. Wait, this could benefit me, too. I’d be married and my chance to gain ownership of Flying Aces would come to fruition. It would satisfy my obligation to my grandfather and work out for Kellan, too.
Two birds, one stone.
But I’m not about to tell Kellan any of this. One, because I want him to think I’m doing him a solid and a huge favor. And two, the way his fingers flutter between my knees is super distracting, and I really can’t even think at the moment.
I remain quiet, mulling over all the implications of this arrangement. But I don’t have to think too hard, because Kellan has other ideas.
“Hollis, I can make it worth your while,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up the juncture between my legs, retracing its path before he hits my center. He leans in, mouth poised at my neck as I feel his warm, licorice scented breath fan over my skin.
His lips connect with that sensitive spot, and as if on autopilot, I tilt away so he can taste more of me. The wetness of his mouth sends goosebumps skittering over my shoulders and down my spine, my nipples turning to hard nubs. My breasts grow achy and needy for touch.
As if reading my mind, he moans into my skin, raising his hand to my breast, finding my nipple and flicking it with his fingernail. And then he repeats the action and I yelp from the pleasure.
“Do you know how long it took me to stop tasting you on my tongue?”
I shake my head.
“Months. It took me months, Hollis,” he explains, now palming my tit in his grasp, thumb drawing circles over my hardened peak.
It sends flashes of erotic pain to my clit.
“You were my every waking thought and in my dreams every night. No matter where I traveled in the world, you were always there right next to me. I’d remember the feel and give of your pussy when I entered you, hear the sweet sounds of ecstasy you’d mewl when you came, and I’d smell the vanilla-spice scent of your skin.
Fuck, Hollis. I couldn’t get you out of my head. ”
I gasp when his fingers finally slide up and hit my wet center, as he toys with the silk covering of my panties. I wantonly part my legs and arch into his fingers, both at my breast and core.
“I’ll give you everything I have – my body, my money, my business – just to have you again. Please, Hollis. Let’s do this. Just say yes.”
My sex-addled brain doesn’t know if, by this, he means sex or marriage. But honestly, I don’t care. At this point, I’m too far gone to ask. I just want it all.
“Yes,” I moan softly. “Please, Kellan, yes.”