Chapter 22 #2
Lukas coughed, and it suspiciously sounded like he was trying to cover a laugh.
Ugh, what a jerk.
“Aimee, that’s nothing to be embarrassed by,” he said gently. “You were young before the accident, and I’m guessing the last almost a year and a half haven’t really been conducive to having sex.”
“You laughed,” I said, my tone accusing.
God, this lift ride needed to end, so I could get away from him. Being stuck here and having this conversation that I stupidly started was not my idea of fun.
We rolled over another support, and relief flooded my body when the end came in sight.
Only a few more seconds and I could leave him and disappear.
Lukas lifted the lap bar, and I let the forward momentum of the lift push me up and out of the space and out on top of the mountain.
I skied away from him, but I don’t know why I thought I could out maneuver the actual professional.
“I wasn’t laughing at what you said,” he said, stopping in front of me, cutting off my escape route.
“Just ignore what I said.”
“Aimee,” his voice was doing that soft and gentle thing again and somehow it had become my weakness.
“You being a virgin doesn’t matter to me—and you shouldn’t be embarrassed by it. It doesn’t make me want you any more, or any less—and I already want you probably way more than I should. I shouldn’t have laughed, I’m sorry.”
I pouted. It was childish, I know.
“Asher and I never got to that point,” I said.
He pulled one of his gloves off and reached forward to cup my face. His thumb brushed over the apple of my cheek.
“It’s okay, Aimee,” he said softly.
“But you have plans,” I said.
“Yeah. I do. It just means that they’ll have to wait for another time.”He laughed. “The look you just gave me,” he said. He moved closer, slotting one of his skis between mine.
My breath caught.
“I know you read those romance books Eloise seems to favor,” he said quietly, his mouth a breath away from mine. “So, I can only imagine the ideas flowing through your pretty little mind at the thought of my plans.”
My breath caught again as his hand slid around the back of my neck and he gripped, his fingers squeezing gently.
His voice was low and husky, and I swore I could feel heat radiating off his body through all the layers.
His hand was warm and rough against my skin.
His lips an agonizing enticement that I wanted to take advantage of.
“I want to make any fantasy you might have come true, and my plans involve eventually fucking you until you scream my name until you’re hoarse.”
I whimpered and he gripped the back of my neck tighter, pulling me closer still. He moved so his mouth was in my ear and I shivered at the caress of air.
“But before I do that, I’m going to show you just how much I’m obsessed with you.”
I swallowed hard and he leaned forward and captured my mouth with his. It was quick, but it left me desperate for more. He smirked at me as he pulled his gloves back on, and I worked to gather my resolve. He was dangerous, knew how to play dirty.
“All of my fantasies?” I asked.
“Whatever you want, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he said.
I looked at him, trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, studying me.
I shook my head, because the whirlwind of thoughts streaming through my brain right now—even I couldn’t make sense of them. And there was this tiny kernel of guilt trying to worm its way into my brain, and I really didn’t want to focus on it.
“I was just thinking about how I’d beat you to the bottom,” I said, projecting confidence I had no business projecting.
“Oh yeah?” He said, and I knew he was arching a brow under the goggles.
“Yup. You’re going to eat my snow dust.”
He shifted his weight, skiing backwards—away from me, and quickly spun around so he was parallel with the slope, sending snow flying downhill.
He looked over his shoulder and smirked—again.
I gripped my poles and skied down the five feet to meet him.
I knew what I was doing—though my plan to be unknowledgeable disappeared at his plans talk.
The throbbing built back up as new thoughts chased away the chaotic and guilt ridden ones.
“You’re just going to drive yourself crazy thinking about them,” he said.
“Then you shouldn’t have brought them up,” I snapped.
He laughed and it broke the tension that was building in me, and I chuckled.
“Come on, let’s ski. There’s this little restaurant in the woods I want to take you to. And since it’s past lunch time, we should get going.”
“Skiing, plans and food?” I asked.
“Skiing and food. Plans are for later, if you’re good. You really need to get your hearing checked.”
“Hey!” I said, lighting whacking him with my pole.
He laughed and started skiing, and I chased after him. It took a few minutes for the muscle memory to come back.
While I wasn’t a professional by any means—watching Lukas ski was a thing of beauty—I was steady and fairly confident.
I skied past him, and whooped, only to be doused with snow as he came skidding to a stop behind me.
He popped around, skiing backwards down the hill until he was in front of me.
He stuck his poles in the snow, and leaned.
His lips pressed quickly against mine before he was off again, leaving me grinning like a fool.
“How did you find this place?” I asked.
Lukas hadn’t been kidding about it being back in the woods. But skiing through fresh powder and dappled sunlight had been magical. The cacophony of sounds from the slope had been quickly left behind and exchanged for birdsong and the occasional whooshing splat from snow falling from branches.
“A local told me about it a few years ago. I typically bring Zara out, but she told me to bring you instead—who knew my little sister was so wise,” he teased.
I blushed and looked at the massive mug of hot chocolate in front of me.
The whipped cream had to be two inches high, covered in cinnamon.
He had reached over and wiped whipped cream off my nose with his thumb—and then stuck it in his mouth.
And the throbbing had come back full force.
He had an equally decadent hot chocolate in front of him, but he’d somehow managed to not get a face full of whipped cream—though I wasn’t sure if I would have been bold enough to do what he did.
“Well, I’m glad she’s wise,” I looked up at him. “And I’m glad you brought me.”
It was a cute little place—apparently styled after Swiss Chalets.
It was full of exposed dark wooden beams and raw stone.
The tables were thick slabs of pine and cedar and the whole place was cozy and warm.
A fire crackled in the hearth and the gentle noises of the other patrons and the occasional sound from the kitchen was the soundtrack to this space.
“I’m glad you agreed to come. I honestly wasn’t sure if you were going to be up for skiing. How’s your knee feel?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I said.
“Aimee.”
“Lukas,” I arched an eyebrow.
“It’s really not bothering you?” I asked.
I take a minute to assess any pain.
“Maybe the slightest bit of discomfort, but I’ll ice it when I get back.”
He picked up his mug, looking satisfied as hell, and took a drink—and once again no whipped cream.
I do the same, and I barely put the cup down before his thumb was snaking out and wiping the tip of my nose.
My eyes follow his finger as he brings it to his mouth and licks it. Then he sucked, and I flushed.
Goddammit.
He shot me that infuriating but gorgeous smirk and opened his mouth to say something that would drive me insane, but our waitress came back over with our meals. She ignored me, but she couldn’t stop staring at Lukas.
Jealousy slammed into me.
“He’s hot, right?” I asked.
She stiffened and turned to me.
“Like, it’s unfair how hot he is. His lips alone are sinful—they’re my favorite.”
Lukas dipped his head, but I could see him fighting a smile and probably a laugh by the way his shoulders were starting to shake.
“Y-Yeah, he’s hot,” the girl said.
“So hot. Like anyone would be so lucky to have him.”
“Do you have him?” she asked, attitude slipping into her voice.
I opened my mouth to snark back, but Lukas beat me to it, “Oh, she has me,” he said, “I’m flattered, but I’m already taken.”
The waitress blushed, nodded and walked away.
“We’re leaving her a massive tip,” he said, chuckling.
“I’ll leave her a tip, don’t flirt with guys on dates,” I snapped shoving a ketchup coated fry into my mouth.
Lukas leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. I kept shoving fries into my mouth in aggravation. A smile spread across his face and it made me pause.
“What?” I asked, grumpiness overloading my tone.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Aimee Bryant?”
I choked.
“You said ‘don’t flirt with guys on dates’ so is that what this is? Is this your way of asking me out?” he smiled playfully.
“Do you wanna date me Aimee Bryant?” He teased.
Did I? I knew that the impending threat of saying goodbye at the end of this trip was slowly eating at me, but I don’t even know what our lives look like outside of the lodge.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
He looked slightly taken aback at my abruptness, but the smile didn’t fall from his face.
“Upstate New York most of the time, but I have a standing reservation for The Lodge for whenever I need to train or get away. My parents split their time between London and upstate New York.”
I nodded.
Maryland and New York weren’t that far apart. It could be doable.
“Aimee,” he said, and I snapped out of my internal thoughts.
“I can see your brain going a mile a minute. Just breathe, and answer my question—I’m dying to know.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
I nodded.
“Even if it’s just short term…” I said, and my blood froze at the look on his face.
Lukas was staring at me like I’d grown two heads or something.
I shifted nervously. “What?” I asked, my voice unsure and a little shaky.