Page 7 of Spoil
A droplet of tomato soup falls from the sandwich and dribbles down her chin. Her hand searches blindly for a napkin, but I’m there before she can find one.
I pull the grilled cheese away and swipe my thumb across her chin slowly. Her eyes fly open at the contact and find mine. I pray she can’t see how much she’s affected me, but her eyes drop to my lips.
I stifle a groan as I sit back in my chair.
“Good, right?” I aim my voice to sound casual, but it comes out thick and rough. Deep and gravelly. Like I want to doothergood things with her.
She nods and quickly takes a swig of her Sprite. She looks back out of the window, needing a minute to compose herself.
It was that moment that would set me on a path that would affect me for years to come, and I learned what a pleasure Dom is.
Chapter five
Penelope
We finish our lunches silently, watching the skiers and snowboarders outside, but being so close to him is all I can think about; his presence.
I don’t think either of us wants to move, or talk, or get back to the lesson. It’s equally comfortable and excruciating to be sitting so close to him, so aware of him.
Finally, he looks at his watch again.
“Want to head back out there?”
I groan and then catch myself. I don’t want to be rude.
But as I flex my ankles in my hard ski boots, my quads and calves complain. He’s watching me with such patience and earnestness, and his words from earlier in the day come back to me.
You’ve paid a lot of money to come out here skiing. It’s your day. Your adventure. They’re paid to make your experience perfect.
I have had a wonderful day. I don’t need to ski anymore.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure my legs could take any more skiing today. But thank you.”
His brow furrows in concern.
“Do your legs hurt?” He reaches for my leg and drags it to his lap before I can protest. But then he’s squeezing my calf, and I moan again in both pleasure and pain.
I shake my head. “I’m just very out of shape. I don’t think Cara realized just how out of shape I am. A half-day lesson would have been plenty.” He’s still massaging my leg as he contemplates what that means for us. I don’t want to say goodbye to him yet, but I think if I went down the slope one more time, I might not be able to walk to the bus stop.
“Well, then I’ve failed as an instructor.”
“What?! No! You’ve been amazing...”
“I can’t have you driving home on weary legs. That wouldn’t be very responsible of me.”
“What? No...” I start to protest, but he sets my foot back down gently and stands, holding a hand out to me.
“Let’s return your equipment and hit up the hot tub in our dorm.”
“I... I...” Oh, God. My eyes involuntarily trail down his chest as I imagine him in just swimming trunks in a hot tub. I’d self-combust.
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“I’ll lend you some things to wear. Or we could ask one of the girls to borrow theirs.”
I war with myself internally. If we go to the hot tub, I could get more time with him, get to know him better. And it would really feel good for my sore muscles. But the cons are trying not to give away just how attracted to him I am. It’s like he sucks all the air out of the room when he’s fully clothed. I can’t imagine maintaining my composure with him half-naked.
But my desire for more of this man wins.
