Robyn Grady - New Year's Wish

She rested her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers over his chest. He felt each exhalation of her breath against his skin, and she sighed a little.

Did she regret this?

“I guess that proves it.”

“Proves what, gorgeous?” he asked, almost afraid of her answer. He wanted to lie here with her in his arms and just pretend for a moment that he didn’t have to let her go.

“That you’re not a dud,” she said.

4

HER BODY TINGLED, and she felt more alive than she had in the past year. She pushed herself from Carter and leaned back on her elbow so she could watch him. God, a man shouldn’t look like this. Not when he was lying next to her in bed. He was all sinew and muscle and, despite his reputation for being debauched, he was in very good shape.

He’d said he was retiring from snowboarding but there was no evidence of that in his lean, hard body.

His eyes were half-closed; he had one hand on her waist, idly gliding up and down her side. His hands were large but sort of soft when he touched her. The confidence and the courage that had brought her up to his room and into his bed were still there. Buzzing around in her mind, which was a little fuzzy from the drinks she’d had and the sex.

God, she’d had no idea sex could be like that. Could be that good. She understood now why so many people were tempted to miss their training schedules for it.

“Was it a surprise for you?” she asked a bit tentatively. Maybe this was the way it always was for him.

He fully opened his eyes, turning his blue-gray gaze on her. “What?”

“The sex. Or is it always like that for you?”

“Damn, gorgeous, the things you ask,” he said. Scrubbing a hand over his eyes, he grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed and bunched it up under his head.

“If I don’t ask I’ll never know. And you are a player,” she reminded him.

He arched one dark eyebrow at her.

“Not going to try to deny it, are you? I heard about many of your hook-ups over the years.”

“Why would I when you wouldn’t believe me anyway?”

“I don’t know. Actually, I really don’t know you,” she admitted. She traced the tattoo of Nagano on his hip. She’d skied there at a world-cup competition twice. She traced the path down his hip and noticed that he let her, just kept still while she ran her finger over his skin.

She didn’t know what to do next. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said this wasn’t her kind of situation. And let’s face it, most etiquette books didn’t cover what to do when a woman ended up in bed with a bad-boy snowboarder. In fact, her mom would have probably said don’t end up there. She was practical like that.

He sat up and caught her hand in his, bringing it ever so slowly to his lips. He kissed her palm and then looked her straight in the eye. She saw the sincerity his gaze and something else. Something she couldn’t really define.

He leaned closer. She closed her eyes because it felt too intense. The room smelled of sex and Carter. That spicy aftershave she’d noticed that lingered in the air after they’d had a conversation.

“It was special for me, too.”

“Why do you think that is?” she asked, opening her eyes and almost smiling. She wanted to hear that she was different from the other women. Carter had exceeded her wildest expectations and made her realize that the safe dates and bed partners she’d had in the past weren’t the norm.

He laughed again. “Give me a minute to wash up, and then we can continue this conversation.”

He got out of the bed and padded naked to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a warm washcloth for her to use. He took it back into the bathroom, and while she was alone, she glanced around the room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the desk. She notice her tiara with the year on it on its side near the bed.

She placed it on the nightstand before scooting up and getting under the covers. As she leaned back against the headboard, she realized he might not want her to stay.

This would have been easier if she’d taken him to her place. Then she maybe she wouldn’t feel so awkward.

He strode back into the room with all the grace and elegance of a tiger.

She forced a smile and what she liked to think of as her game face. The expression she used in the press room after a bad run, or when she’d had to go in front of the media and act as though it hadn’t mattered that her career in skiing was over after her fall.

Watching his muscles moving with each step he took, she realized he was a perfect specimen. Not like her body, which was broken and bore fresh scars. She envied him his healthy body. Tamping down her roiling emotions, she shook her head. She wasn’t going down that path tonight.

Instead, the sheet falling to her waist, she drank him in.

“Dammit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked in alarm.

“You make me want to start all over again.”

“Start what?” She wasn’t following him.

“Sex,” he said. “I’ve just had you but I want you again. Want to take my time and make sure that I haven’t missed one glorious spot on your body.”

She arched one eyebrow at him. “I don’t think you did. But first I want to hear why you think I’m special.”

He rubbed a hand over his chest and came to sit next to her on the bed. “Gorgeous, you’ve always been special to me.”

That was a nonanswer if she ever heard it, but it was New Year’s Day. He was her little gift to start out a fabulous year, and she guessed from his tone that discussing their past wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

She sighed, but the drinks and her emotions were catching up with her. She traced his tattoo and thought of all the risks she’d taken in her life and how they’d paid off for her. Carter Shaw was the biggest one. She’d come to his room for a night of pleasure and hopefully to jar herself out of the sameness that her life had taken on.

That was it.

It was hard, though, because she was a planner, and to face any situation knowing that she didn’t have a proved strategy made her edgy and scared.

* * *

IF SHE’D BEEN any other woman, he would have been happy to climb back into that bed and have another round of mind-numbing sex. But this was Lindsey. His gorgeous Nordic angel who’d always been different. And tonight was no exception.

She kept touching him in that innocent way of hers that turned him on, but more than that, she seemed to touch him as if she wasn’t thinking about it.

“Tell me about this tattoo.”

That she’d changed the subject kind of let him off the hook and also disappointed him the tiniest bit. He wanted her to demand some answers from him, not let him keep skating by on the surface. But she saw him the way every other woman did. She was different to him but he wasn’t different to her.

It hurt for a split second before he shrugged it aside and shifted to lie next to her. He pulled a couple of pillows closer and propped them under his head.

“What about it?”

“When did you get it?”

“On a trip to Japan with my dad when I was a teenager.”

“How on earth did you convince them to give you a tattoo...or did your dad okay it?” she asked with a smile.

Carter thought of his old man and how, back then, he’d been sort of his enemy. Now that he was an adult they got on well, but growing up, his dad had seemed like this guy who had never really lived or ever done anything daring. The exact opposite of everything that Carter wanted to be. His mom had died in childbirth, and his dad had never recovered.

“No, he didn’t approve. But I was on my own, spoke decent Japanese and looked like I was eighteen. I knew from the moment I’d seen the mountain that I wanted it. I wanted to snowboard down it, learn its paths and twists and turns. Try to capture some of its wildness.”