Page 50 of Wedlocked

“No,” I snapped.

Max inhaled sharply.

Josh smirked.

“He’s not my type,” I repeated. “He’s my everything. So get lost.”

Josh looked like someone had thrown about four lemonWarheads into his mouth at once. That’s what he got for flapping his lips.

For a second, I thought the sour look on his face would fire off his tongue, but he just shook his head and skied off. I watched him go, making sure he wasn’t one of those guys who would double back for the last word.

“Wesley.”

Shivers raced up my spine, induced by the commanding way he said my name. His voice was dark and rumbly, such a contrast to the bright snow and crisp air.

I didn’t turn fast enough, and he caught me around the waist from behind, winding his arms around me like a seatbelt, locking me in place. My stomach flipped and flopped, the adrenaline flooding my system before churning and changing into heavy desire.

Keeping a firm grip on my upper body, he shifted his lower half, his boot coming down on the latch to release my boot from the ski. He did it again for the other one, and then the brush of his hot breath hit the exposed part of my ear.

“Pick up your skis and follow me.”

I was buzzing—no other way to describe it. My limbs were not really shaking, but they were not still. They were not relaxed. Excitement coursed through me as I bent to pick up the skis. Arguing was not even on my radar. I was too far gone for that.

Max was riled, and when he got this way, I submitted without even questioning it, slipping easily into the role I loved to play.

My leg muscles worked as I walked through the snow, eyes trained on his black back. Max barely paused to snatch his skis from where he’d left them and continued walking without even checking if I was following. He knew I would. I’d follow him anywhere and not think twice about it.

We traipsed away from the lift and runs, over near the fire pits and concessions. He stopped beside two empty Adirondack chairs and plunked his skis into the snow, then reached for mine and did the same. Only then did he turn, my breath catching at the smolder glittering in his onyx stare. The fire just beyond the chairs reflected in his black orbs, threatening to scorch my skin.

Without a word, he snatched the hat off my head and then yanked his gloves off with his teeth. The items landed in one of the chairs, and then both our goggles hit the other.

When that was done, he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. A sound of protest broke from my tight throat, and I pulled my hand free of his. He turned back, eyes narrowing into slits, silently promising punishment if I didn’t do exactly as he said.

I yanked off my own gloves, throwing them with the rest of the stuff, and then pushed my hand toward him again, fingers wiggling for his.

He grunted a satisfied grunt and wrapped his fingers around mine, his grip so tight I felt it in my joints. I let him tow me past the live band singing some terrible cover of a Christmas song and then past the long line for hot chocolate and other concession booths until the noise of the crowd grew dim and we were out of the circle of floodlights.

The fingers on the hand Max wasn’t holding prickled with cold, and I tucked them into the sleeve of my coat as he tugged me around a small wooden building that was some sort of shopduring the day. Right now, though, the place was locked up and all the windows were dark.

Behind, it was even darker, the small cabin blocking out the rest of the light from the resort. It felt colder here too, maybe because of the absence of said light and the fact there were no other people to give off body heat.

All at once, my back hit the building and all the air in my lungs expelled in a white puff. He was on me instantly, broad chest pinning me against the unforgiving surface, arms caging me in and thigh pushing between mine.

“I left you alone for five minutes, Wesley.” His voice was gravelly and threatening.

Delicious.

“I can’t help it if he liked what he saw.”

Max’s eyes snapped up, incredulity warring with danger. His hand found its way around my throat, and I angled my chin to give him better access.

His digits tightened, but I whined because the high neckline of my coat kept his skin from mine. With a dark curse, he pulled back to roughly yank the zipper down so my coat was open halfway down my body.

He brought his hand back, not really a necklace, more like a cuff. I whimpered, lashes fluttering as he applied even more pressure.

“What did you just say to me?” Max intoned.

Lifting my lashes, I met his gaze, trying to appear challenging but knowing I probably already looked drunk on desire.

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