Page 81 of On the Edge

“You want garage sex,” I tell her, “then we’re doing it my way.”

I reach around the front of her and pull the other side of her bralette cup down so both her breasts are exposed. Even in the cold air, her body is burning up with desire. Cupping her breasts in my hands, I sweep my thumbs across her nipples, and when she rocks her hips back into me, I meet her, thrusting my dick along her ass and lower back. She sighs each time our hips meet. When I take her nipples, pinching each lightly between my thumb and forefinger, she goes to move her hand, saying “I need to touch myself if you’re not going to do it.”

Both my hands fly to her wrists. “Like hell you do,” I say as I press my body up against hers. I take her hands and slide them down the wall so she’s bent forward more, then go back to her nipples again. She’s rubbing her ass against me so forcefully, thrusting her hips each time I roll the sweet peaks of her breasts between my fingers, that I know she’s ready. I grab her hips, use my foot to spread her legs as far as the leggings around her calves will allow. Then I reach my hand between her legs to pull that scrap of fabric masquerading as underwear aside, and dip two fingers into her to double-check that she’s ready for me. She rides my fingers so hard I know I need to be inside hernow.

With her legs barely spread, sliding into her is like sliding into the tightest, hottest space my dick has ever been. I can tell she feels the difference in this angle and position too, because she moans as I stroke in and out of her, then groans my name loudly when I take my fingers, still covered in her juices, and swirl them around her clit.

“Holy shit,” she says on an exhale before pushing her ass further back into me, arching her back so she can take me even deeper. And that’s what does me in. That’s where I lose control, grabbing her hips and slamming her back onto my dick over and over.

The pressure builds quickly at the base of my spine, and raw need claws at me. If Jackson’s soft grunts are any indication, she’s as close as I am, but I’m not risking finishing before her. I take one hand and run my finger along her lips, which she parts as she sucks my finger inside, swirling her tongue around the tip. Then I’m rubbing my finger over her swollen clit as she whispers “Oh, shit,” followed by “Yes” dragged out on an exhale.

I feel her tightening around me, the spasms gripping my dick as the waves of her orgasm roll through her. I can only hold on for another second before I’m spilling everything I have inside her. When I finish, I put one hand on the wall next to hers, and wrap my other arm around her waist, holding her to me. We’re both catching our breath, neither of us eager to move.

“Holy crap,” I say when I can finally use words again.

She turns her head to mine where it rests on her shoulder and kisses my cheek. “That was ... mind blowing.”

My rib cage rattles with the victorious laughter that bubbles up, and I can feel her smile like it’s radiating out of her body.

I pull back, running my hands along her sides, then I pull out of her and reach down for my T-shirt. I clean myself off and then clean her off before I pull her leggings back up her legs.

“You know,” she says, turning toward me after she’s tucked her breasts back into her bralette, “yesterday was the first time I’ve had good sex since you left.”

“I don’t want to think about you fucking anyone else, much less talk about it,” I tell her as I reach down to grab my sweater and jacket.

“Hey,” she says, reaching down to cup my chin and bringing me back up to face her. “I thought you were gone for good.” The pain in her voice makes me regret ever leaving, even though I know it was the right thing at the time. “If I’d had any idea you were coming back, I’d have waited for you.”

I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to me, burying my face in her wild hair. “Just remember that I didn’t know your dad didn’t tell you why I left. So every time I saw that you were dating someone new, like that douchebag soccer player—”

Jackson laughs. “He really was a douchebag.”

“It made me think you didn’t want me to return.”

She pulls away and looks up at me before running her tongue over her lower lip and looking away. “I only ever dated other people so everyone would think I was over you. Which I never was. Despite thinking that you’d abandoned me, I honestly never stopped loving you.”

I’ve waited five years to hear that, and still her words hit me harder than I expect. I cup her face in my hands, bringing my forehead to rest on hers. There’s so much I want to say, but all I can get out before a lump forms in my throat is, “I never stopped loving you either.”

* * *

“So you can for sure be there on New Year’s Eve?” Jed clarifies.

“Yes, but what about Jackson?”

“What about her?” Even over the phone I can hear the edge of concern in his voice.

“Well, she and I ...” We said we weren’t going to tell anyone, but Jed’s my lawyer and he needs to know. Besides, as my lawyer he can’t tell anyone things I tell him in confidence. “We got back together. I want her there with me on New Year’s.”

“I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“I don’t really want her to find out with everyone else. If we’re planning to make a big announcement at that New Year’s Eve gala the ski team does, she should know beforehand. I don’t want to spring it on her, and I don’t want her to hear it from someone else.”

“I can check with the board, see if they’re okay with you telling her after all the paperwork is signed but before the announcement is made. That would give you a window of a couple hours to talk to her about your plans before everyone else finds out.”

“Her finding out immediately beforehand isn’t ideal.” I sigh.

“But it’s better than her being surprised with the info at the gala, right?” Jed confirms. “You’re going to have to bend on this. For whatever reason, the board doesn’t want her or anyone else brought in on this.”

I think about how much she loves Blackstone. How she loves the small, independent vibe, the old-school lodge, the lack of shops and tourists, the personal feel of the mountain. My plans will change some of that. The new lodge and hotel on the backside of the mountain will be a big draw for tourists, but I’ve worked with the board to ensure that things are done on a small enough scale to still maintain the independent vibe. To cut down on weekend tourists, the hotel is mostly made up of condos with quarter-, half-, and full-ownership shares available so there won’t be that many rooms available for normal hotel reservations. And my company is already working on identifying small, local businesses to lease the shops and restaurant spaces that will make up the new “Main Street” in the village. I’m hoping for a small European ski village feel, which I think Jackson will love. But any changes to Blackstone may alarm her, and I just wish I could talk to her about it now—convince her that I’m actually saving the spirit of the mountain she loves, because it was either sell to me, sell to a big conglomerate that was going to make changes on a more massive scale, or go bankrupt.

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