Chapter 33
JETT
“You’re distracted today,” Mark points out as he supervises my weighted calf raises.
We arrived in Whistler this morning, and have spent the afternoon since getting checked in to the hotel at the training facility here.
“Just thinking about the qualifier tomorrow,” I lie. I would love to say that I’m so focused on this competition that I can’t even keep my mind trained on the rehab exercises that will ultimately make or break my win. But that wouldn’t be true.
This event might be the biggest moment of my pro-skiing career, and all I can think about is my wife.
The image of her laying on her couch, legs open, her perfect pussy clenching around my fingers… Blood rushes south and I shift on my feet so I don’t embarrass myself in front of Dan and Mark.
“Speaking of, we need to go over your strategy.” Dan pipes up, unaware of where my mind has gone.
I try to bring my thoughts back to the present moment, and not think about what I would be doing if Poppy was here with me on this trip.
I doubt we’d even leave the hotel room. What I wouldn’t give to have Poppy naked in the king-sized bed with me, helping her explore every inch of her body and seeing just how far her pleasure can go.
I give my head a shake and sit up on the edge of the table now that Mark is done with my warmup.
“We need to be aggressive,” Dan carries on. “You have to make up for some points lost with your landing last week. If you perform perfectly, you can still qualify.”
A perfect score. I need a perfect score to make it to the final.
Something I’ve been dreaming about for over a decade, since I started skiing in the first place. It devastated me to not make the cut last season, and to fail so catastrophically that it took me off the ski hill for the past year.
Tearing my ACL was a massive set back, and despite all the distractions today, my competitive streak blazes within me, steely determination locking in.
“What if I can land a Big Earner?” I suggest, knowing that neither Dan nor Mark are going to be on board with this idea. The “Big Earner” was what we coined the trick I was working on last year, the triple misty, before everything went to shit.
I almost did it. I did do it. Then the landing took me out, wrecked my knee, and just about destroyed the remainder of my career.
Dan lets out a whistle, his eyebrows raising in disbelief that I even suggested it. Mark is already shaking his head.
The move involves a series of three off-axis turns, and only the best of the best have been able to nail it. But I am the best of the best.
“On that knee?” Marks eyes flick down to my leg as he points to it. “You’ll be looking at early retirement as soon as tomorrow.”
“Come on,” I say. “It won’t be that bad.”
I bounce on my legs to show that they’re still just as nimble as before my injury, but the motion causes a sharp twinge behind my knee that makes my jaw clench to keep from wincing.
“It just about ended your career last year, and you were in perfect shape going into it,” Mark reminds me. “We stick to the original plan. You do the trick we talked about, the one you’ve done a million times. You know how to land it perfectly. It’s your best shot to get to the final.”
“I agree,” Dan chimes in again. “Now is not the time to be pulling any stunts. If you want to go to Zermatt, you need to play it safe.”
I scoff to myself, but Dan notices.
“I mean it this time, Jett. No fuckin’ around. I know that’s hard for you.”
“Got it, Boss.” I wink at him as I stand from the table and pick up my towel. I dab it against my forehead before slinging it over my shoulder.
What Dan fails to recognize, is that I’m not messing around either. It’s just that I’ve never been known for playing it safe.
The king-sized bed is too big, and too empty, after the night I spent with Poppy.
Her apartment is much smaller than my house, and her bed is too, but I don’t mind it.
I like being near Poppy. Something about being close to her makes me feel warm, comfortable.
A feeling I haven’t had around anyone, let alone a woman, in a long time.
Even more out of character for me, was the fact that we didn’t have sex last night. We slept next to each other, Poppy’s head on my chest and my arms around her, but I didn’t make another move.
Not that I didn’t think about it. God, the thought of getting Poppy naked again, running my hands over every inch of her soft, pale skin kept me awake all night. It’s a wonder I was able to do anything in the gym today.
There was just something so beautiful about being the first person to make her come like that. To teach her how to care for her body in such a natural and primal way. It makes me want to show her everything. It just wasn’t the right time last night.
I’m not normally one to take things slow. The girls I bring home want it all, and they want it now, and I give it to them. And then they leave.
I don’t want Poppy to leave.
More than that, I want her to go at exactly her pace. If that means that we never actually have sex at all, I’m okay with that. I would be tortured by the memory of her perfect pussy for the rest of my goddamned life, but I could learn to make peace with it.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I have to adjust my boxers around my hard on as I walk to answer it.
When I crack the door open, all that’s outside is my bag of takeout, which I grab and quickly retreat before anyone can catch me with my massive erection tenting my boxer briefs.
I lay back down on the smooth, white duvet, leaning against a pillow on the headboard, and remove the takeout container from the bag.
My mouth waters at the smell of the Pad Thai.
It’s my pre-event ritual at this point, and the first bite is almost enough to make me forget the dangerous feelings I’ve been having about Poppy.
Almost.
Because they’re back in full force the second I look down to see my phone light up with her name on the screen.
I click open the text message, my pulse thrumming in my ears even though my entire blood volume is in my cock.
POPPY
Ready for your big day tomorrow?
I smile at the message. It might be the first time anyone has checked in to see how I’m doing before an event. Taking a deep breath, I compose myself so I can type a nice message back.
Just missing my number one fangirl.
The little dots indicating she’s typing appear and disappear a couple of times before her next message comes through.
Who, me?? You’ll have plenty of women fawning over you, I’m sure.
A sharp pang catches me off guard.
Is Poppy jealous? I’ve never paid too close attention to anyone standing in the crowd, and even less so since I’ve had Poppy on my arm and a ring around my finger.
It occurs to me in this moment that for the last few weeks being married to her, I haven’t even so much as looked in another woman’s direction. I take another bite of food, biting the noodles and letting them fall back into the container before I type out a response.
Not the same. I’ve started to look forward to kissing you after my runs.
The dots don’t pop up this time, and something inside me sinks. Disappointment carves a hollow in my chest.
I flick on the television and find something mindless to watch to keep me distracted from the feelings that have been slowly creeping in. Feelings about Poppy.
Feelings I should not be having about my wife.
But my heart leaps when I see my phone light up out of the corner of my eye.
Just imagine our kisses from last night.
Oh, I have been.
I type back right away. She responds right away now, too.
Careful, you don’t want to come in your pants again.
Who says I don’t?
You’re making me blush.
Good. It’s time for our next lesson.