Page 69 of Well Played

Like our previous dates, once we started speaking, the hours flew as we talked about our childhood, families, our hopes, and dreams. Eating cheese, drinking wine, and laughing until my face hurt. It wasn’t until we realized the bustling restaurant was empty and the staff were lurking, politely waiting for us to leave, that we noticed the time.

“Do you want to go back?” Owen asked as we left. The door clicked closed behind us.

“Not really,” I admitted. “I know we need to train tomorrow, but I am enjoying myself far too much.”

Holding my hand, Owen expertly guided me through the streets to a small chapel,Chapel Chosalets, and sat on a small bench out the front. As we watched the blue glow of the moon rise over theAiguille du Midi, one of the most beautiful mountains in France, Owen’s hand caressed my cheek, and I turned to find his lips waiting, warm and soft upon my own. Once more, a bubble of bliss enveloped me as Owen’s hand caressed my cheek and his lips met mine, warm and soft. In that moment, I knew that this man, who could have chosen any woman, had chosen to be here with me.

“Let’s go,” he croaked, his voice husky, but we didn’t make it far before he pushed me against a wall and kissed me again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m struggling to keep my hands off you. It feels like I have waited my entire life to meet you, and now I need to make up for lost time. Does that sound silly?”

“Not at all,” I whispered back, not wanting to ruin the moment, although no one was here to overhear us. “I feel much the same.”

“Will you come back with me?” he asked, almost shyly, and for a moment I wondered what he was asking. Where would Igo? We were staying at the same hotel. I gasped a little when I realized what he meant.

“Yes.”

Sneaking back into the hotel well past curfew, we took off our shoes and slipped up the stairs to avoid attention. Owen had his own room; his roommate had broken his collarbone a few days before and had been repatriated back to the States. No sooner than the door closed, his mouth was on mine, urgent and demanding. My body responded in kind. I wanted him, badly. It had been forever since I had been with a man, and I wondered for a split second if I had forgotten what to do. Owen pulled back and looked at me.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Do you want to leave? It is okay if you do.”

“No,” I mouthed softly.

“Are you sure? I want you so much.”

I nodded and pulled my top over my head, revealing the black lace bra underneath. That was all the encouragement he needed, and as he kissed me again, I pulled his top over his head, depositing it carelessly on the floor. Owen expertly unhooked my bra and cupped my breasts, kissing them and holding them like they were precious jewels. Kissing his neck, his eyes closed, and his head rolled back as I ran my tongue slowly down his neck and chest. Slowly and deliberately, he removed each item of my clothing before standing back to admire me.

“You are a goddess,” he breathed, the awe in his voice making me blush. I held my arms out to him, and he came to me, lowering me to the bed. He took his time, kissing, tasting, touching, before I couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Please. I want you,” I begged as he played with me with his tongue, bringing me close to orgasm over and over, but not letting me finish.

As he hovered over me, his blue eyes met mine, seeking confirmation. Thrusting my hips up, I gave him what he needed, and with a moan he entered me, making me gasp. We fitted together perfectly, and finally I knew what all those romance novels and movies were describing. This feeling. Feeling like I had finally found my place, my home. That sensation of being so utterly content and fulfilled as we pleasured each other, my arms stroking his back, reaching climax together.

“Stay,” he whispered as we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

3

Lake Louise,Alberta, Canada

As the season progressed, we became inseparable. Spending every spare minute together, both during the day and every night. Traveling from country to country, we trained together and Jeff backed off as Owen took a hand in my coaching, and with his guidance on finessing my transitions between gates, we placed at nearly all events. Owen was consistently ranked number one in the men’s league, while I was two in the women’s GS events, with Natasja Zenina from Austria being the only skier above me. She was completely different to me, light and lithe. I was strong, and better suited to steeper terrain and heavier snow. But the last event, in Canada, was her type of course, favoring her smooth, elegant style. She would excel and finish the season ahead of me. Second place was wonderful, but I was hungry for first, joining my partner as the world number one.

Owen rolled over in bed, and I could feel that he wanted me.

“Mmmm,” I sighed and stretched as he began kissing my neck and his hands caressed my breasts. Since we had been together, I had never questioned how much he loved my curves. At every opportunity, he told me and showed me.

“I need to go to the gym,” I groaned. “Unlike you, I have serious competition in Natasja.”

Natasja was stunning, tall, slim, and elegant. But she was also a self-centered bitch, the type of woman who knew she was beautiful and expected men to worship her as soon as she walked into a room. She threw herself at all the male skiers, including Owen. He had always politely rejected her, finding her vacuous and self-absorbed. Originally Russian, she had defected and joined the Austrian team a few years ago.

“Cardio with me first, then weights at the gym,” Owen ordered as he rolled me atop him. He knew I couldn’t refuse him, and I loved being on top, Owen kissing my breasts as I rode him. Every night and every morning he wanted me and making love had become part of our daily routine.

“Fine,” I whispered. “But not tomorrow. Tomorrow is my last race of the season, and I do not want to be distracted.”

“How badly do you want this?”The Russian-accented voice behind me in the changing rooms made me jump as I was tying my inner boots, preparing for my first run.

“Natasja! You scared me.”

Natasja scowled and ignored my comment. “Answer the question,” she snapped.

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