Page 5 of Spoil
Daniel’s right next to me, holding on to my jacket sleeve to steady me. Surprisingly, I ski over to an area not occupied by other skiers or snowboarders without falling.
“Well done. How was that?”
I chuckle a laugh. “Terrifying? Nerve-wracking?”
“Nah. You did that like a pro! The last woman I taught tipped her skis down, got caught on the wall, and was dragged underneath the lift until the operator stopped it. Smacked her head hard and had a phobia of the lifts, naturally. That was before her lesson with me, of course.”
I’m shaken. I can’t imagine how painful and embarrassing, and traumatic that would be. I’m not sure I’d ever get the courage to ski again.
“And she was able to do it?”
“Doubting me, are we?” He volleys back with a smile.
“You? Never.”
“She was. I think we went twenty times that day?”
I smile, thinking about Daniel helping to ease the fears of a worried woman. He’d be good at it.
Back in business mode, he gives me the rundown of slope etiquette and rules. And once he’s sure I’ve got it, I follow himdown the slope slowly and carefully, holding my breath the entire time.
Chapter four
Daniel
Penelope skis well, and for the next two hours we chat and flirt a little on the lift, and then she follows me down the slope. She’s not an immediate talent or prodigy, but she doesn’t fall either.
“Want to try a more difficult slope?” I ask her on our last run before our lunch break.
“Nope!” she says cheerfully. The tip of her nose and her cheeks are pink from the cold and the wind, and her gorgeous red hair is accentuated by the standard black helmet she rented.
We glide off the lift, and I note how she does everything I ask perfectly. Would she be like that in bed, too? Would she get on her knees for me if I told her to? My instant attraction to her has turned into a full-blown crush now. And I’m dying to figure out how to spend more time with her. I know I can simply ask her for her number after the lesson, but even the idea that she’ll return to DC tonight feels too big. I’ll text her and figure out the logistics of meeting her again, but that’ll take time.
“How about we get lunch after this run? It’s about time,” I say, checking my watch.
“Sure.”
She follows me down again, and I try to make my path a bit more aggressive for her. She’s doing so well. If she lived closer to a ski slope, she really could pick it up quickly. But she said that only rich people ski. It makes me wonder what her home life is like. Is my girl not living well? I quickly cycle through a list of questions to ask her over lunch.
We don’t normally eat with our students, but she doesn’t need to know that.
After we stop at the bottom of the hill, Penelope is breathless, panting. It makes my cock jerk alive in my ski bibs. I pop my skis off and stand behind them to hide my erection. Ski bibs aren’t exactly stiff enough to hide a boner. I take a few measured breaths in and out, willing my body to obey.
I take her poles and skis from her after she’s stepped out of them and place them in a nearby rack.
“No one’s going to steal them?”
God, she’s precious. “Nope, and if they do, we have cameras everywhere,” I reply, pointing to the underhang of the three-story lodge.
I guide her into the lodge with a hand on the small of her back. I want her to be comfortable with me.
We walk through the cafeteria-style food area and pick out what we want for lunch. I get the tomato soup and grilled cheese, and she gets a burger and fries. I pay with my employee card.
Also, not something we typically do, but if my girl’s struggling financially, I’m going to do whatever small thing I can to provide for her. The feeling of providing for her is a warmth throughout my belly and chest. It feels right.
I find us a cozy, two-person tabletop by the windows so she can watch the other patrons while we eat.
“This looks so good,” she says enthusiastically.
