Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
“No, Mara, I did not know that,” Kirby said, laughter in her voice.
But Mara did. Gold, gold, gold.
Once, it had consumed her.
Kirby’s hand was warm in hers. Their names were announced, and they took the big step up onto the top together. They waved at the cheering crowd together.
Together, together, together.
The threat of tears pressed against Mara’s chest as she leaned down for the medal to be placed around her neck.
After they straightened up, Mara looked at Kirby, who was beaming at her.
And those tears welled up and escaped, sliding down Mara’s cheeks one after another.
There was no stopping them. She didn’t even try.
Mara had cried more that day than she had in her entire life. It felt like she was rewriting everything she’d ever known and believed about emotionality in their sport. She wanted to be vulnerable. For herself. For those watching. And for Kirby. They deserved her true emotions.
And it did feel different, that Olympic gold medal around her neck. Different than the silvers and bronzes.
She smiled at Kirby. She could barely take her eyes off Kirby.
It felt so fucking different.
The national anthem played, and Mara tried to listen. She mouthed the words and watched the flags ripple.
And then it was over.
She lifted the bouquet up and waved it at the crowd.
Kirby hugged her, her hand sneaking to the back of Mara’s head and briefly into her hair, which was down and wild and still a little damp.
They released each other to hug the skiers from Norway and Italy. It had been the three teams’ race from the beginning, and Mara suddenly felt such an affinity for their competitors, for the strong women who she’d been racing against all over the world for years.
The medal ceremony ended, and they were ushered around, following where handlers pointed them. Mara started to feel a bit lost like she was observing herself float through the experience rather than feeling it.
And, God, she wanted to feel every moment of it. She wanted to enjoy it without worrying about the next race. Or what she’d do in retirement. Or what the heck was going to happen with her and Kirby.
But it was muscle memory for her to be thinking about the next win. Chasing the next accomplishment. Goal drift. And for once, Mara wished she didn’t care so much.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Kirby whispered in her ear.
Mara grabbed Kirby’s hand and let Kirby lead her until they were back in the Olympic Village. First to Kirby’s room, where Jordan was asleep, then to Mara’s room.
Lindsey was gone. She’d left them a note that she wouldn’t be back that night. All night.
Such a good teammate.
Kirby dropped the bag of stuff she’d gathered from her room and crowded Mara toward her bed. She gently pushed Mara down onto it and straddled her waist. Kirby touched the gold medal around Mara’s neck, running a finger around the edge.
Mara had forgotten she had it on.
“Don’t fall into post-success blues,” Kirby whispered. “Not yet.”
“I don’t think I could ever feel blue with you on top of me.”
Kirby shot Mara her signature sly grin. “Sweet talker.”
“Oh, sure. That’s me.”
Kirby nodded, unexpectedly serious. “Mara, I like you too. I didn’t say that earlier.”
Mara tried not to smile. But she failed. Spectacularly.
Kirby liked her.
It was such a silly statement. An obvious statement. But she was overwhelmed by it.
She sat up, forcing Kirby to scoot back and sit in her lap.
Her hands trembled as she took off Kirby’s gold medal and placed it on the bedside table. She unzipped Kirby’s jacket, then removed the shirt underneath. And the bra.
Mara looked her fill at Kirby, who was shaking. She was naked from the waist up except for a Team USA beanie. Mara walked her fingertips around Kirby’s belly button, over Kirby’s ribs, and up to her breasts.
Kirby took in a shuddery breath. She was being rather passive. It was different than the other times they’d done this where Mara had craved being tumbled, being overwhelmed, and Kirby had taken all the control in hand.
This time, Kirby seemed almost thrown and uncertain.
Mara kissed the swell of Kirby’s breasts, then the tight tips, and clutched at Kirby’s hips, fingertips digging in hard.
“Oh, fuck,” Kirby sighed and arched toward her. One of Kirby’s hands delved into Mara’s hair, knocking her Team USA stocking cap off. The other gripped the ribbon of Mara’s gold medal.
Part of Mara wanted to tell Kirby not to wrinkle it. The other part of her recognized it was incredibly hot that she was getting to do this with an Olympic gold medal around her neck.
Mara slid her hands up Kirby’s muscled back and took her time painting Kirby’s chest and shoulders and neck with kisses.
“God, it’s unbelievable how good you feel,” Kirby gasped. “Why is it always so good?” She ground against Mara’s lap, and Mara knew Kirby would be wet. She would be ready.
“You’re just riding high from today,” Mara said against Kirby’s jaw.
“No.” Kirby groaned. “It’s you.” She leaned back, forcing Mara to stop kissing her neck. “Mara, it’s you. Us. Can’t you see that? It’s us.”
“Yes.” Mara toppled Kirby onto her back. “It’s us.”
As soon as Kirby was on the bed, she ripped her pants down and off, clearly desperate. Before Mara could react, before she could remove any of her own clothes, Kirby was naked.
Mara climbed on top, pinned her, and kissed her.
“Please, Mara,” Kirby whispered against her lips.
Mara bit Kirby’s lip, one last sting, and moved down her body. She was starting to feel as frantic as Kirby sounded. As she resettled between Kirby’s legs, the gold medal felt too heavy. A nuisance getting in the way.
She yanked it off and tossed it away from them on the bed. She ripped her nice podium jacket off and threw it too.
And then she was on Kirby. Her mouth right where they both wanted it, and Kirby jolted like she’d been shocked.
“Oh God,” Kirby said, laughing. “Seeing you fling a gold medal across the room so you can go down on me should not be that hot, but it really fucking is.”
Mara didn’t have anything to say to that. She didn’t have anything to say at all as she licked Kirby’s clit, as she filled Kirby with as many rough fingers as she could take.
It’s us.
It’s us.
Kirby tasted incredible, bright and citrusy. She was shaking. And being way too fucking loud. And was so amazingly wet against Mara’s mouth.
“Mara. Yes. Oh God, Mara.”
Kirby lifted her hips toward Mara’s lips, her tongue, her fingers. And then that tension in Kirby snapped.
It’s us.
Kirby felt raw and torn open. She was pretty sure she’d shouted Mara’s name when she’d come.
So that was cool. And not something people in the neighboring rooms would notice at all.
Mara was still in her fucking podium outfit.
Which Kirby was going to take care of as soon as she could feel her toes.
Even though Mara was mostly dressed, she was not composed. Her eyes were wild, her movements jerky, her hair a complete mess. Her face was wet from Kirby.
And that was very motivating. Kirby sat up and grabbed a fistful of Mara’s hair.
Mara’s eyes snapped shut immediately, and wasn’t that amazing? How easily Mara surrendered.
Kirby leaned forward and licked her taste from Mara’s chin and lips.
“Start taking this shit off,” she said, tugging on Mara’s shirt.
Then she bounded from the bed and grabbed her bag. She unwrapped her favorite toy and rushed back to Mara. Mara had barely gotten her shirt off.
Kirby dragged Mara’s pants down, bringing her underwear with it, but her feet got tangled. They had to struggle and use teamwork to get her naked.
Mara laughed once she was free, and the lightness in that laugh made Kirby’s heart stop.
She was so fucking into Mara. Kirby felt so much. A simple laugh, a joyful laugh, made her want to give Mara everything.
“God, I like you,” Kirby said. She pinned Mara’s legs open roughly and kissed that sweet spot between them.
“Are you talking to me or my…”
Kirby grinned. Mara was too prudish to say the words, to finish the joke, and that was incredibly endearing. “Princess, I was talking to you, but I like your cunt too.”
“Don’t call me—”
“You love it.” Kirby used her tongue to fuck into Mara for several long seconds. Mara shuddered. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m close.”
“Already?” Kirby teased. She liked playing with Mara. She liked skiing with her. And fighting with her. And trash talking with her.
“Shut up. Fuck.”
Some of the heaviness in the room had lifted. The weight of what they’d been through, the hurt and bullshit, didn’t feel so insurmountable. And their achievement, the gold medal, wasn’t important right then either.
Just them. Just their hearts racing. And their laughter. And them.
Mara’s body tightened as Kirby swirled her tongue around her clit, and it hadn’t been Kirby’s plan to finish her like this, but she was adaptable.
So she let Mara fall apart on her tongue, pleasure rippling through her.
Before Mara had recovered, Kirby put her mouth at Mara’s ear.
“Trust me?”
“Yes,” Mara said, gasping for breath.
“I’m going to make you come again.”
“Umm. I don’t normally—”
Kirby ran the tip of the dual stimulation vibrator through Mara’s folds, and Mara snapped her mouth shut.
“Yes?” Kirby asked.
“Okay.”
Mara was wet. It would be easy to slide right in. And Kirby wanted inside her. She wanted to fuck Mara. In every way possible. With her fingers. Toys. Tongue. Everything.
And she’d get her chance.
She was going to spend as long as Mara let her, as many days, or weeks, or years, chasing that dazed, overcome look in Mara’s eyes as Kirby pushed the toy inside and turned it on.
Mara was still breathing hard from her first orgasm when Kirby started fucking her.
“Harder,” Mara said, and that was Kirby’s needy, greedy princess.
Kirby kissed Mara and gave her what she’d asked for. Kirby sucked the soft skin of Mara’s tits between her teeth, pulled her hair, held Mara steady. And Mara tried to take control like the little control freak she was.
“Stop,” Kirby said after several minutes of Mara meeting the thrusts of the toy with her own. “Turn your brain off.”
“Bonham,” Mara gritted out, clearly aggravated.
“Oh, back to that, are we?” Kirby laughed. She licked Mara’s ear lightly, which sent a shiver through Mara’s body, “I want you to imagine the fifty-k.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Kirby plunged the toy deep and upped the vibration, leaving it seated. Mara gasped and clutched at Kirby’s shoulders. “Imagine what it feels like to hit kilometer forty. When every muscle in your body is burning, and every inhale hurts, and it’s all mental.”
“Kirby.”
“And it’s only you. And me. And a fast course. And it comes down to who can suffer the best.”
Mara was panting by then, her eyes closed, mouth open. She was still as stone, just taking it. Kirby started fucking her hard again, and Mara submitted in the most beautiful way.
“Sometimes, when you come,” Kirby whispered, kissing along Mara’s jaw. “Mmm. You’re close, huh, princess? Sometimes when you come, you look like you do at the end of a race. Breathing hard, chest heaving, body weak, splayed out and collapsing in on yourself.”
“Fuck.” Mara fisted the sheet underneath her.
They were a mess of sweat and red marks from grasping at each other, from the battle.
Mara opened her eyes, but it was like she couldn’t see Kirby at all, staring right through her. Mara’s head rolled on the pillow, and she cried out sharply.
And then she was a quaking, fragile gift in Kirby’s arms.
Mara’s second orgasm hadn’t come easy, but Kirby loved a struggle. She wouldn’t have become a cross-country skier otherwise.