Epilogue
Vox
One Year Later
“You nervous, baby?” Connor calls to me from the chute next to mine.
Fucker took first in the time trials, so he’s in the leader’s chute, but I’m determined to win. We may live in Telluride now, but the season opener is in Vail, and I’m finally getting the race Connor Lang owes me.
“Not even a little. How about you? Your balls retreat yet?” I call back.
“Are you two done?” our coach calls from behind us.
I reach around our divider and slap a gloved hand to Connor’s ass before answering. “Now I am.”
Evan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to fuckin’ hate events where you guys race in the same heat. It’s already stressing me the hell out,” he gripes, making Connor laugh as he responds.
“Stress? Nah, man, this is the fun shit.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Nothing’s better than edging him out of first place.”
“I can think of an edging that’s better than that…” Connor teases as he trails off.
“No!” Evan barks. “We’ve been over this! No sex talk in the chutes!”
The first buzzer sounds, and Evan walks away exasperated.
I couldn’t possibly be having more fun. Okay, it might be a little more fun when Connor bounces on my cock, but right now, we’re about to haul ass down a mountain, doing our second favorite thing.
Connor fist bumps me before pulling his goggles down over his eyes, while I mirror his actions.
“I love you,” he says.
“Love you more,” I tell him.
“Impossible,” he replies, finishing the ritual we started when we began training together this season. It’s a reminder that we agree to put each other first, and snowboarding second…even if I am about to crush his soul in this race.
As the second buzzer sounds, all four of us racers grab our handles and prepare to throw ourselves over the mountain.
When the third and final buzzer goes off, the gates open, and we’re catapulting forward.
Connor and I are in the middle lanes and immediately try to knock each other out of the fall line.
Connor has become a slightly more aggressive rider since training with me, and I’ve gotten slightly smarter, so we’re damn near on equal footing.
Except I’m racing on the new board I designed. The one I didn’t tell him about.
Ironically, I kept the stupid camber, but I changed it from a hybrid to a directional one.
I need a strong edge hold so I don’t lose control in the turns, while also being able to maneuver around other boarders.
I also snapped in some swivel locks. It’s a sick design my dad and I came up with, where I can lock them in or allow the swivel by rotating a dial at my heel, allowing me to adjust for the course’s needs.
Today, they’re locked in place because I need maximum energy transfer between my feet and my board.
We also shaved millimeters off the center of the board for less ground contact, and this board is flying.
Connor is still bigger than me. In fact, he’s bigger than he was a year ago, having put on ten more pounds of muscle mass because I told him I like how he makes me feel small.
That added weight is helping push him down this mountain.
Coming up on the first jump, Connor and I are neck and neck. We both squat low as our boards sail up the ramp, trying to use our mass to push us back toward the ground as quickly as possible. Once our boards have cleared the jump, we extend our legs, fighting to touch down first.
Of course, he beats me to the ground and is already entering the turn by the time I land.
Shit.
He rides the turn high, and I know he’s going to try to hit the next ramp early so he can come down faster and keep his lead. Using my new board design, I pop my hips to push the tail of my board out, and head for the low point of the turn.
This position puts me ahead of him slightly, but I know he’ll have more speed on the ramp.
Sure enough, he gets back in front of me, and so it goes the whole way down the slope.
When we’re on the final straightaway, I zero in on Connor’s hips. The most helpful trick he ever taught me was to anticipate his moves.
He wears slightly baggier snow pants when we compete in the same heat, so I can’t read him all that well, but I also know his body better than my own.
When his hips twist slightly to the left, and I see his board follow suit, I pump my legs for all I’m worth, aiming to rush him on the inside and take the victory.
In one of the closest calls in the history of our sport, I squeeze out a point-zero-four-second lead to win the event.
Connor wraps his arms around me and lifts me—and my board—off the ground.
“Guess your board mods worked,” he says so lowly that only I can hear him.
Setting me down, I gape at him, pulling my goggles off and unclipping from my board. “You knew?”
He fucking winks at me. “I know everything about you, hotshot. Every. Single. Inch of you.”
By now, Evan is joining us and hears the last part. He throws his arms up in the air and mutters, “Christ, they’re still going at it.”
My dad is also entering the fray, congratulating us both with pats on the back and a beaming smile.
“Helluva race, boys. You make me and all your sponsors proud,” he says.
Connor and I take our podium pictures and are finishing up our media interviews when a familiar voice rings out.
“Voxy! Way to go!”
“REN!” I jump down from the podium and hug my friend. “It’s so good to see you! Are you racing this weekend?”
“Yeah, I’m actually doing big air. I was always too slow to keep up with you guys, but as it turns out, I flip faster than I can go downhill,” he says, laughing.
I checked all the lineups for names I recognized. Patterson’s team wasn’t registered anywhere on the circuit this year, telling me everything I needed to know.
“I’m glad you found your fit, man,” I tell him sincerely.
Renner turns and clasps hands with Connor and slaps him on the back. “Hey, Coach. You look good out there. You guys still, uh, like together?”
“Hell yeah,” I answer. “You think I’m letting that one get away?” I laugh.
“Please,” Connor says, rolling his eyes. “You really think there’s anyone else out there who can tame your wild ass?”
“My ass is only wild about you,” I tease.
“I’m glad to see that some things never change,” Renner says with a laugh.
Leaning into Connor, I press my lips to his ear. “You always give me the best ride of my life.”
CONNOR
It started out as a joke, but as it turns out, jacking off on a poster of Vox is quite fun.
He’s due home from the store any minute.
I cooked last night, so tonight it’s his turn, and while he was making an extra stop, I stayed at the office to root around until I found a stack of this season’s promotional materials…
including this twenty-four-by-forty-eight-inch poster of my boyfriend.
Spread on the floor of our small, cozy house on the outskirts of Telluride, I spread my knees wider and stroke my hard cock lazily, not wanting to get too ramped up before Vox gets home.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long before the sound of the garage door opening makes my heart race.
“Daddy! I’m home!” Vox calls. The sound of groceries hitting the counter alerts me to his location.
Obnoxious little shit.
I say nothing, knowing he’ll come looking for me in the silence.
“Connor?” he shouts, moving closer to my spot in the living room.
Still, I stay quiet.
“Baby, where are y—oh, fuck. What have we here?”
I shrug, making eye contact as my pace increases on my cock. “Payback.”
Vox throws his head back in laughter. “Been sitting on that one a while, have you?” he asks.
“Only about ten minutes, actually,” I tease.
Vox moves to stand next to me and cups my chin, gently forcing my face up toward him.
“Wouldn’t you rather spill into a mouth that can suck you dry?”
“I plan to come more than once tonight,” I tell him, not breaking eye contact, but squeezing harder as I stroke faster, my hips thrusting forward, lifting my ass off my heels.
Vox lets go of my face to unbutton his pants and pull his own cock out to stroke it in time with my movements.
I have to admit, having the real Vox Montgomery in front of me is more appealing than spilling by my own hand, but he seems to be enjoying the show, and that’s hot, too.
As soon as the first bead of precum is visible in the firelight, I feel the familiar tingle at the base of my spine.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Vox taunts, reading me so well.
“Yeah, hotshot, I’m so fucking close.”
“Hurry up and get your revenge then, so you can fuck the living, breathing version of the photo beneath you,” Vox says, his voice low.
I grunt my release and watch in awe as my cum splashes across Vox’s gorgeous face on the poster. I run two fingers through the mess just to smear it across his lips on the paper before bringing them to his lips in real life.
He wastes no time sucking my fingers into his mouth, groaning as he licks them dry.
“Fuck, Connor,” Vox moans. He rarely uses my first name, but it always makes me smile when he does.
“Did you like that?”
Instead of answering me, he returns with a question of his own. “You want top or bottom tonight?”
“Top,” I answer immediately. “Defiling your picture was so much fun that now I want to defile the real thing.”
Standing up, I pull Vox to me, driving my fingers into his all-brown hair. He took the purple out shortly after officially signing with Fall Line Boards, and I have to admit, I like it better.
“Dinner?” he asks, making me smile as I remember the words he once spoke to me.
“Fuck dinner. I’m eating you.”
GRAB YOUR COPY OF AVALANCE NOW TO find out what happens when the clock runs out and they’re forced to choose!
Six years ago, they were stepbrothers living under the same roof.
Now, Stone is a veteran of the Ski Patrol, and Hanlon is the student intern he’s been assigned to train.
On the dangerous wind-swept peaks of the mountain, Stone is supposed to be the mentor, but the kid he used to know has grown into the one man he can’t stop thinking about.
To their family, they’re brothers. To the patrol, it’s a fireable offense.
But under the cover of darkness, they’re a disaster waiting to happen.