“I’m old, but I’m notthatold. I can handle it,” I tease.
“I’m well aware of how much you can handle,” he throws back, making my dick give a throb of acknowledgment.
“Vox,” I warn. “Donotmake me hard right before we drop in on a double black diamond in avi terrain.”
Vox laughs gleefully, and my chest tightens. I want to hear that sound forever.
When we get off the lift, the trail board at the top informs us that the backside of the mountain is open, and avalanche patrol blasted there this morning to shake any potential hazards loose.
Lucky us.
For terrain this steep, you have to check out with ski patrol before you go down, and you have to check in again once you’re at the bottom. If Grey finds out we were up here, he’d most likely fire me on the spot. But I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore.
“Stone!” Vox yells inside the patrol hut.
“Hey, Voxy! What’s up, man?” the guy in the red avalanche jacket calls to Vox, unclipping a GPS beacon from a wall of devices. “You going on the wild side today?”
“Yup. Last little fun run before the big competition on Saturday.”
Stone shakes his head. “Swear to God, man, onlyyouwould call this mountain’s steepest terrain and gnarliest descent a ‘little fun run.’ Crazy-ass fucker. What pocket do you want this in?” he holds the device up.
“Inside jacket,” Vox answers. Since he still has his gloves on and Stone doesn’t, the avalanche patroller unzips Vox’s outer layer and begins digging around in his clothes.
“You keep grazing my nipple like that, Stone, and I’m gonna have an appendage that matches your name.”
“Vox,for fuck’s sake,” I groan behind him.
“Down, boy,” Vox says with a smile. “Stone isn’t into dick. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
The man’s cheeks flame red, and he tries to play it off. “Maybe I’m just not intoyou,asshole.”
Vox scoffs. “Everyone’s into me.”
He isn’t wrong.
“You going off with him?” Stone asks me, changing the subject.
I nod, and the guy looks back at Vox.
“He knows this is super technical shit, right? You think he can handle it?”
Vox throws his head back in laughter. “Yeah, man. He’s got it in the bag, no worries.”
Stone grabs another transponder. “Where do you want yours?”
“Same place is fine.”
We check to make sure our little green dots show up on Stone’s screen, and then we’re making our way to a near-vertical drop-in on the side of a mountain that’s littered with boulders, moguls, and has never been groomed by a CAT in its entire existence.
There are only a couple sets of ski tracks up here. The patrollers won’t let anyone ski or board this alone. You have to have a group of two or more, or you don’t go.
“Fuck, this is steep,” I say, looking over the edge as I tighten my straps.
“Nervous?” Vox asks.
“A little,” I admit honestly.
“A littlelike the adrenaline makes you feel alive, ora littlelike you might throw up and don’t want to do this?” Vox clarifies.
