Page 1 of Snow Good to Lose
Caden
Acool breeze coming off the ocean offered a welcome respite from the heat. That’s what you get from living close to the equator. Not too close, but two years ago, we were seconds away from being buried in an avalanche. It’s all relative.
The heat meant Amari showed more skin. She filled out a bikini in all the right places. I continued to watch her every move. Not much had changed in that regard.
I stood on the beach, looking over our place. Amari found it a year ago. The abandoned structure was nothing more than a shack at that point, but Amari saw more. She saw our home.
“Bonjour, baby.”Her French accent made me smile. I glimpsed her through the trees. She strolled on the makeshift path I'd created between our shack and the road.
I checked my phone. She was early. Thankfully I’d finished.
Amari spoke fluent French, so it wasn’t far-fetched her new identity was of an immigrant from Haiti seeking employment at the resort down the street. Tiffany Jean, as her passport states, flashed the manager the smile I knew in my sleep and she was hired as a spa receptionist on the spot.
Tiffany’s boyfriend, Chet O’Brien, stalked the resort for three months before security intervened. As an American ex-military bum with a knowledge of security, when I offered them suggestions on improving safety measures, they begged for my knowledge, for a fee, of course.
It was easy to take on new personas.
No one was looking for Caden and Amari. We were already dead.
“Oh my God. What did you do?” Her eyes widened as she turned around under the canopy of trees.
I shrugged.
It had taken me all day, but I'd given our place a little Christmas feel. Small blinking white lights hung in the trees. A small Christmas tree took up half the front porch.
Christmas in eighty-degree weather was odd, but I wanted to make it special for her. It was her favorite holiday.
Last year, I fucked up. She moped around for days. I thought it was because she was missing our old life. She finally confessed, it wasn’t our old life, but the holiday itself. No matter what, we had to celebrate Christmas. Back then, I watched her, but sometimes I didn’t see her.
I'd learned my lesson.
When we left Whistler on a snowmobile, I could not predict where we’d end up two years later. We made a hasty decision in order to be together, but neither of us would take it back. I watched her now and I didn’t have to look away. She was mine in all ways. Mine to love, and protect, and most importantly, to spoil.
She ran the last few feet, and jumped into my arms. I caught her with a grip under her ass as she assaulted me with kisses.
“I missed you,” she whispered against my lips and snaked her tongue out to taste me. “Thank you.”
“I missed you, too.” I walked her the rest of the way home.
She squealed when she saw the decorated tree on the front porch. My dick got hard.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She kissed my face.
“You like it.” I kissed her neck.
“I love it. Ican’t remember when we both had a day off together.” She flashed me a sexy grin. I carried her up the stairs and into our home.I switched on the alarm and shut the door behind us.
When I wasn’t stalking her, I renovated the shack and installed security to rival the federal reserve.
She dropped her bag inside the door. I proceeded into the bedroom.
“What are we going to do with ourselves?” I laid her on the bed. With the humidity, what little we wore felt damp. I pulled the resort logo pink T-shirt over her head.I worked on her sandals. She slid the sports skirt off her hips and discarded it on the floor.
She reached behind and unhooked her bra and then turned her attention to getting me out of my board shorts. She made quick work of them.
I crawled onto the bed, parted her legs, and pushed into her. I knew she was ready for me. She was always ready. Slick and warm.
When I entered her, her eyes grew wide as saucers, and she released a throaty gasp. We’ve fucked many times. Each time she made me feel like a king or a god. Does wonders for my ego, but not so much my stamina.
