Like the fact that I held the straightest line possible made her want to tear my clothes off.
Or is it my desire talking?Because I can remember vividly the feel of her hot skin under my palms when I tear her clothes off.
Nope, not imagining it.
She was in awe in front of her hero, turned on and hungry for more.
And that look aroused me more than anything I have seen in any woman's eyes.
I have always seen girls as distractions.Didn't let them skin-deep.You need focus when you're racing down a mountain at 130 kph.
But you also need drive.
And I have to admit, I've been lacking that lately.When wins come easy, it's hard to push yourself.Same medal, whether you win by two hundredths or two seconds.
I close my eyes and visualize.
Not the gates.Not the rhythm.Her.
The way she looked at me, like I wasn’t just fast, but fearless.I crave that more than I should.Like proof I’m still worth chasing.
I visualize Katharina: her eyes, that look hinting arousal.Lips wet but pulled tight with restraint as she hides her excitement.Her voice, just a little raspy.Her fingers twirling her hair, her body flirting with me before her mind can stop it.
Because my skiing, my brilliance turns her on.
Maybe that's the spark I needed.
It´s risky, but I'll take spark over autopilot.
They call my name.I nod, buckle my boots, and stride toward the line of racers waiting for their start.Step into the skis Roman, my tech, prepared.He pats my back.I chase Katharina's look in the back of my mind and prepare to conquer the mountain.
The final minutes always stretch too long.I hum Tyrolean melodies under my breath—quiet enough not to irritate the guys in front of me.Just enough to calm the noise.
Then I'm in the start gate.Last racer of the day.I can hear the crowd cheering for the ones before me, but I know who they're waiting for.
Their guy.
This is Austria, after all.
I set my poles firmly in front of the gate, ready to launch.I've got a full second lead.I could cruise and still win.A clean, solid run would be enough.
But no.I want to see that look in her eyes again.
Hell, maybe if I really nail it, she'd lose her restraint and decide to taste the candy again.
I grin to myself, but chase the thought out of my head immediately.
Control.
Three beeps.
One high-pitched.
Go.
I launch.
The upper part is easy.Tuck position.Body low.No need to fight for balance—only for speed.I let the skis glide.Loose edges.Wind slicing past.I chase hundredths.The crowd roars.Confirmation that I'm building the lead.
