Page 41 of Take A Number
“Oh my God.” Norah’s voice is awestruck and I look over to see her staring openmouthed at the whole scene of me jacking all over myself like a teen who doesn’t know the trajectory of a good orgasm. She looks at me, smiles her innocent smile and says, “This is going to be so much fun.”
“We’re riding bikes down a mountain?” I ask dubiously over a cup of coffee as I sit at the breakfast counter in the fancy mansion kitchen watching Barb, a woman apparently hired to cook for us, butcher the omelets.
“Yep!” Lynsey beams from her seat next to me. “We take a big chair lift thing up to the top, rent our bikes and gear there, and then ride downhill. It’s a bunny hill type of route so not too treacherous. I have prizes for whoever comes in first.”
“That sounds fun?” I say it like a question because I’m not a super active person. I’m thewalk through the mall in air conditioningtype. Doing anything on a mountain besides skiing seems way too adventurous for me. I didn’t think Kate was super outdoorsy either, so I’m surprised this is our activity for the day. The itinerary said we were riding bikes but I was expecting the ones you can rent to ride around Aspen and go shopping.
Barb ruins her fourth omelet, splashing raw egg all over the gas burners and I can’t take it anymore. I push back from my stool and move around the counter to stand beside her at the stove. “Do you mind if I take over?”
The woman’s wide, worried eyes blink back at me. “Could you? I’m a fill-in for the guy who was supposed to be here and omelets are my kryptonite. If you can do better I’ll be your sous and we can split the payment.”
I press my hand to her shoulder. “I don’t want money. This is fun for me. We’ve got this.”
I grab an apron stashed in the catering box, and Barb and I find a rhythm in the kitchen as the rest of the group begins to trickle in looking almost as satisfied as I feel.
“Norah’s making the omelets?” Kate cheers excitedly. “That’s sweet! As payment I shall give you one of the eighteen sex toys I went home with last night.”
Barb quirks a shocked brow that everyone ignores as they regale the events from last night. Our evening was apparently a lot more exciting than the guys’. But I’m barely listening to what everyone is saying because my mind is re-living what happened to me later on.
I masturbated in front of Dean Moser.Good God!
I woke up this morning hoping I’d dreamed it, but when I saw my pink vibrator sitting on the nightstand in the bright morning light, the entire act came back in full clarity. And the worst part—it wasn’t just the alcohol that made me do it. Or that stupid minty oil the sex toy woman told me would make my vagina feel silky.
It was Dean. And the physical reaction my body has whenever he’s around me. I’ve been denying it for too long and last night, I just snapped.
He was still sound asleep when I woke up this morning so I figured I could either watch him sleep like a loser, or come out to the kitchen and avoid him like a winner.
“Good morning, everyone,” Dean’s voice booms, and I freeze after flipping the final omelet and focus intently on the sizzle.
I see him out of the corner of my eye moving toward me. Oh my God, what’s he going to say?Please God don’t let him make a joke about my sex toy in front of everyone. Barb will think so much less of me!
He snakes his hands around my waist as I freeze in place, holding a spatula in front of a hot flame. His manly scent engulfs me as he presses his hard body into my back and nuzzles my neck with his bearded jaw. “Good morning, sugar tits.”
I growl-smirk while turning around to glare at him. “I told you what would happen if you called me that.”
“Promises, promises,” he jokes and leans in to drop a chaste kiss to my lips, his hand lingering on my hip and dipping to fondle my ass in front of everybody.
I can’t stop smiling as I turn back to the stove and place the last omelet onto the large serving dish. Dean snatches a piece of bacon off the tray Barb just finished plating and I swat at his hand. “Go sit at the table and wait, you animal.”
He winks at me and makes his way over to an open seat. When I finally tear my eyes off him, I discover Kate is staring at me with the biggest smile on her face I’ve ever seen. She presses her lips together, caught in a rare moment of silence and turns to join everyone getting ready to eat.
Breakfast goes semi-smoothly but we all have to rush back to our rooms to get ready for our excursion. Dean already showered and dressed so once again, I’m dressing alone and wondering what the fuck is going on between us. Was that display in the kitchen just for his friends? Was last night a one-time thing? Is he embarrassed we did that? Will we do more of it?
My mind is reeling by the time I join everyone in the big van that’s taking us to the chair lifts. Dean is beside me in the van and he’s quiet as he rests his hand on my thigh the entire journey. I open my mouth several times to say something but I stop myself. Now is not the time to figure out the inner-workings of our fake relationship.
We arrive at the Snowton Bike Park chair lifts, which are these giant pods that can hold up to six people or three people and three bikes. Since we’re renting bikes at the top of the mountain, Dean and I squeeze into a pod with Max, Henley, Sam, and Maggie. It’s a quiet ride and the beautiful view of the changing aspens is ruined by the flashes of bikers I watch going over these enormous jumps.
“What is this, the X-Games?” I croak, my hot breath fogging up the glass as I stare down at my future death.
“We’re not doing the jumps trails,” Dean replies casually and squeezes my leg.
My palms begin to sweat and I scooch away from him because my entire body gets clammy. The thing is, I’m not an athletic person. I can ski, kind of. I can play volleyball, a little. I can swim pretty well but only because my body has this strange natural buoyance that makes treading water shockingly effortless. But bike sports…so not my thing.
I manage to keep my inner freak-out to myself, hoping that once I’m suited up in my bike gear and see the trail we’re taking, it won’t be so bad. Lynsey called it a bunny route, right? If I can ski a bunny hill, surely I can bike a bunny route.
Kate, Miles, Lynsey, Josh, Sam, Maggie, Max, Henley, and Dean are all lined up in that order, suited with helmets, gloves, and funny looking shorts with butt pads that Rachael did not have the foresight to pack for me.
Lynsey’s voice calls out, “Okay, this is a timed couples race and there will be prizes.”
