Page 33 of Power Move
I pass Remy more balls, then holding the rest against my chest, creep around the other side of the drift. Rhys is close by.
I throw the first, and the ball smacks into the jeans pocket over his left ass cheek. Following up with another as he twists, I score a hit to the right cheek’s pocket.
He blinks surprise from his eyes, gives me an evil smile, and lobs a snowball at my chest. I duck out of the way, flinging another at his stomach.
Rhys lunges for me. Running backward, I hurl another at his thigh. My last one, thrown at his chest, goes wide. I hit the wall of the snowdrift and fall backward into it.
He dives on top of me, his arms and legs bracketing me in the snow.
Breathless, I squirm. The cold, wet slush makes its way into the space between my hat and scarf.
Rhys leans up on his forearms, eyes twinkling, so blue, studying me. He touches the tip of his nose to mine.
“Cold.” I murmur.
“Let’s change that.” He lowers his lips to meet mine. Cold at first, firm, then warm. With a groan, he teases the tip of his tongue across the seam of my lips, then pushes inside. I slide my hand to the back of his head and wrap the other around his torso, welcoming his weight and the deepening kiss.
The knuckles of his gloved hands brush the sides of my face as he changes the angle of the kiss. The world narrows down to snow and Rhys. His body shifts against mine like he’s seeking closer contact. Longing for less clothing between us, I get one leg hiked over his, trapping him against me, and swallow his moan of approval.
He raises his head, pins me with that glittering gaze, and strokes his fingers over my throat.“Want to go inside? Warm up together?”
I arch into him. “Yes, please.”
He rolls off me, extends his hand, and pulls me to my feet. The snowball fight has shifted into the guys competing for distance and height, by aiming snowballs at various tree branches and far away targets.
We walk toward them. Rhys wraps his arms around me, hugging me to his chest. “We’re going inside.”
“Big surprise there.” Maxim softens the words with his smile.
The cabin is warm and quiet. We shed our outerwear and boots by the door. Rhys grasps my hand, and we walk together through the rooms. “Shower with me?”
“That’s a good way to warm up.”
He leaves me at the bathroom door. “Give me one second. I need to grab something.”
I stroll inside, setting our towels on the radiator so they’ll be warm once we’re finished showering, and realize we didn’t bring any of our things in with us. “Are you getting shampoo?”
The padding of footsteps in the hall grow closer, and he’s back, carrying a leather bag I recognize from our road trips. Toiletries, condoms, and lube. He closes the door behind him. “Yeah, I got shampoo, and the rest.”
The long window high on the wall lets in sunlight, baking this side of the house, so the room is warm. Even the floor tiles. Rhys crowds me against the sink, clamping his hands on my waist, pushing beneath my shirt to rest on my skin. “I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for hours.”
“Me too.” I link my fingers around his neck and draw him down to meet my lips. The kiss is hungry, a continuation from what we started outside. He delves deeper, rocking against me, his cock pressing into my stomach. With a groan, I wrap my leg around his waist and let him feel how much I want him.
He drags his hands up my back, pulling my shirt up. We separate so I can get it off, and I take my turn helping him, skating my hands up his chest, pushing the material higher. When I reach his nipples, he groans and rips the shirt over his head.
His torso is gorgeous in this, or any, light. The auburn hairs, the ripped muscles. I touch my fill, kissing him as my hands wander all over his freckled skin. Then down to his cock, caressing him through his jeans. Rhys moans at my touch, then sucks in a breath as I open the button.
I range kisses on his chest, taking my time with lowering his zipper. His hands grasp my shoulders, flexing and releasing, his big body pressing mine against the sink.
Flicking my tongue over his nipples, I pull his jeans down, then fill my hands with the hard cock poking out of the waistband of his black boxer briefs.
With an impatient grunt, he shoves the boxers off and kicks free of his clothes. Legs splayed, he stands, reminding me of a warrior, and I need to taste him.
I lower to my knees, using his jeans as a cushion. He slides his hand through my hair, his gaze glittering with heat. “I love you on your knees for me.”
He’s leaking for me. I swipe my tongue over the head and wrap my hand around him, using my other hand to cradle his balls.
His hand fists my hair as he eases into my mouth. “That’s it. Just like that. You’re so good at this.”
