If only those scummy journalists knew.
“My point is,” Mom continues. “Don’t let ‘it’s complicated’ get in your way. I’ve known Mabel since she was nothing but a clump of cells growing inside my best friend. She may have thought she was panicking when the two of you woke up married in Las Vegas, she might call you her frenemy and rib you any chance she can, but that girl only has eyes for you.”
I cut a giant chunk of croissant off with my fork and shove it between my lips, taking the time to think while the buttery softness melts on my tongue.
“So you’re saying I should tell Mabel I’m in love with her? Even if I think it will send her running for the hills?”
“I think that everything happens for a reason. I think that Mabel has always looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars just for her. I think you need to give your wife a little more credit. And I think that sometimes in life, whether it be on the slopes or in love, you have to decide for yourself if the fall is worth the risk. Is she worth the risk, Ryder?”
As I stuff another chunk of croissant into my mouth, I know that there is only one answer to that question.
Mabel is worth everything.
The Opening Ceremoniesof the Winter Games are one of my favorite parts of the entire two weeks. They remind me of being in elementary school on Halloween, when all the kids would dress up in our costumes and the teachers would lead us in a parade around the playground for the entertainment of ourparents. Except here, the costumes are all matching red, white and blue pants, snow jackets and beanies and we’re being paraded around for the entertainment of the entire world. The order in which each country’s team enters the stadium for the Parade of Nations differs every Games, but per tradition, Greece is always first—an honor bestowed upon them because the Games originated in Ancient Greece—and the host country is always last. This year, Team USA was right in the middle of the pack, entering after Bulgaria and before Thailand, and Mabel and I had the honor of being co-flag bearers, leading our country while waving the Stars and Stripes.
I may have a lot of opinions on the state of the world, my country, and the idea of patriotism in general, but walking through the Winter Games stadium with Mabel by my side, representing our country and our team together in front of the world is something I will never forget.
Something else I will never forget? When, in the middle of the stadium, Mabel stood up on her tiptoes and put her lips on mine, claiming me on the world stage. The kiss itself was chaste enough, but I did find myself feeling dizzy when she tugged my bottom lip between her teeth, winking at me when she pulled away. And yeah, maybe there were a fewtears shed that I tried and failed to subtly wipe away, but who could blame me? I was leading my country to the start of the Winter Games with my dream girl at my side, my ring on her finger, and the taste of her lips still on mine. I am literally living out all of my dreams.
Especially now that we’re back in the Village heading to our room. I’m two steps behind Mabel, watching her hips sway side to side, her every curve hugged by the tight leggings she has on.
“I don’t care how uncomfortable these stupid beds are. I cannot wait to lie down.”
“Sleeping the day away wasn’t enough, Marshmallow? You’re already ready to call it a night?” I ask as Mabel swipes the key card to our little room, which is blissfully warmer than the frigid temperatures we had to endure during in the open-air stadium. I like the cold, snowy air as much as the next guy, but I’m looking forward to being able to feel my toes again.
“Who said anything about calling it a night?” Mabel winks, slowly pulling at the zipper of her anorak jacket as the door clicks shut behind me. My mouth instantly goes dry. It doesn’t matter that she’s only revealing more layers of clothing underneath, watching her pull the zipper tooth by agonizing tooth down over the swells of her breasts, her flattummy, all the way to where the bottom of her jacket rests on the top of her thighs is the most tantalizing seduction I’ve ever seen.
Mabel’s hair is a little messy, flat on top from being tucked under a beanie all night, and the ends are wild and knotted from the wind. Her skin is flushed pink from the cold, the tip of her nose redder than Rudolph’s. She slips off the jacket and pulls the Team USA crewneck over her head, revealing a blue, long sleeve-thermal that molds to her curves like it’s been painted on, and when she takes a few steps backwards and falls back on the bed, sitting up just far enough to lean on her elbows, my cock swells so rapidly that I feel immediately lightheaded.
“God, baby girl, you are fucking stunning,” I rasp. Mabel crooks her finger in a come-hither motion, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from coming in my pantsagain.I quickly rid myself of my top layers, and climb on top of her in just my long underwear. Definitely not the sexiest I could be, but Mabel doesn’t seem to mind. When I’m hovering over her, she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips, yanking me down into a searing kiss. It’s hard, hot and full of tension, as wild and fierce as her mess of red hair. My cock nestles against the juncture of her legs, my body finding itself right at home in the cradle of her hips.We’ve gone from zero to sixty in no time, and I am ready to take this ride with both hands in the air.
We’re a tangle of limbs and tongues and teeth as we kiss, grinding and bucking and seeking friction through our clothes. Everything feels frantic and uninhibited as we yank at layers, breaking our kiss only long enough to pull shirts over our heads. I barely even look when Mabel unhooks her bra and tosses it to the side. I just press my bare chest against hers, my chain resting like ice between our heated skin.
“Ryder,” she gasps when I drop my mouth to her neck and bite down.
“Mabel,” I growl, grinding my erection up and down the valley of her pussy. I need to get these damn pants off of her, but, fucking hell, I can’t bring myself to stop touching her long enough to do it. I kiss and suck my way over her collarbone and down to her breast, where I flick her little diamond nipple with the tip of my tongue.
“Ryder, wait. Should we slow down? I don’t want to rush you, baby.”
Dropping my forehead between her luscious tits, I let out a long sigh. She smells like honeycrisp apples and sweat, and it takes everything in me not to ignore her question and lick a path down to her pussy so I can suck on her clit. But I’m a grown manwith some semblance of self-control, so I roll on to my side and prop myself up on my elbow, and Mabel does the same. It isn’t until Mabel snaps her fingers in front of my face that I realize I’ve been staring at her naked tits for who knows how long.
So maybe I don’t have that much self-control, but I’m trying.
“I appreciate you checking in,” I say, twirling a lock of Mabel’s auburn hair around my finger. “But I don’t need to slow down. I don’t want to slow down. I want you, only you, desperately. Now, if you’re in, I would very much like to make love to my wife.”
Mabel crinkles her nose, the movement making her freckles dance on her gorgeous, flushed face.
“I so want to be grossed out by your use of the phrase ‘make love’, but that was seriously romantic, Rye Bread.”
“Get those pants off, Marshmallow. I’m taking you to pound town. Better?”
“Oh dear god, please go back to making love.”
We’re both in a fit of laughter as we wiggle out of pants and find ourselves tangled back together, grappling for dominance until I concede, falling on my back and letting Mabel straddle my thighs. She’s gloriously naked, all pale skin and freckles and messy red hair teasing the pink tips of her pointed nipples. One day I’m going to take my time with her.I’m going to trace every arch and line of freckles with my tongue, committing every delicious inch of her to memory. But today is not that day. My every breath is labored, shaky, and when she settles her weight onto my thigh, letting me feel the slick heat of her pussy on my skin, I let out a pathetic whimper.
“How do you want me, Ryder?” She asks, and I gently grip her hips. She starts to rock forward and back at an agonizingly slow pace, her pussy leaking arousal all over my thigh while the swollen bud of her clit grazes my skin over and over.
“When I imagined this, you and me, it was always just like this. You on top, where I can see every inch of you, using me to feel good. Is that okay?”
