“How considerate of you, Miss Berger.”
“It’s my job,” I nod.“So, we’re clear?No ties.No relationship besides being friends.Sex only after you win?”
“I like the idea,” he adds, setting the folded shirt down.
He says it like it’s nothing.Like he’s just joking.
But there’s that curve at the corner of his mouth, not smug, not even cocky.Just calm.
He’s letting me set the rules.Letting me pretend this is control.
“At least you’ll get some additional motivation,” I break the silence.
“You mean knowing that you’d give me such a ride if I nail my run?”he asks.
“One hell of a ride,” I nod and leave the room.
In the hallway, I stop and breathe in and out a few times, trying to steady my heartbeat.
I hoped that when we hooked up, it would break the spell of the tension.
But me remembering his controlled movement between my legs only makes it worse.
I knocked on his door, looking to sort things out.To set terms.To return to professional.
To get control.
And I found his cheeky grin and mischievous eyes undressing me with pleasure and without restraint.
Not demanding.Not needy.Just patient.
Like he’s already decided this thing between us is inevitable, and he’s willing to wait while I write the terms he’ll later rewrite anyway.
It’s stupid in his situation.It’s reckless.
And it makes me squeeze my thighs to suppress the desire.
Gosh, I hope he wins in Schladming.
***
Schladming, Austria, January 23
Thomas
Night races are always something, and I’m still not used to them.
Slalom racers know the evening chill, the thrill of the crowd, the artificial lighting that messes with your vision, and the strange way the surface gets harder instead of softer with every following bib number.
Night giant slalom is rare because a piste with artificial lighting along such a long course is hard to find.But this is Schladming, the Austrian cathedral of skiing.
If Kitzbühel is my hometown, Schladming is skiing’s hometown.
I guess kids around here are born with ski boots already crushing their little feet.Everything, from the parking lot to the châteaux, is built to accommodate tens of thousands of skiers every day, utilizing artificial snow to extend the season to its limit.
Their night race is a national holiday in this country.
And I finished third in the first run.
