Rekindling Christmas (4 page)

The woman giggled and curled her
body around his friend more. “Oh, screw them.” Another giggle. “I have half a
mind to brush them off, stay here with you, and let you take me a third time.
Maybe in the ass again…hmm?”

Carson
busied himself at the bar, pouring
himself and his roommate a drink as Phillip wrangled himself out of the woman’s
grip.

“Oh, sweetie. Let’s not ruin the
moment. I don’t think I could go another round right now with a firecracker
like you.” Phillip placed light kisses on the corners of the woman’s mouth as
he walked her backwards.

“Let’s try,” Blondie whined with a
fake pout.

“Let’s just hope this week lends
another moment for us. If not, we had fun, right?” Phillip pulled the door
open.

Fingering her disheveled hair behind
her ear, the woman smiled through red, swollen lips. Carson could only imagine
what Phillip had the woman doing with her mouth. “Okay.” Giggle again, with a
hip twist for good measure.

“Bye-bye.” Phillip quickly closed
the door, leaving the giggling nymph on the other side of it. “Damn.” Phillip
did some crotch adjusting and buttoned his jeans as he moved deeper into the
front room. “That girl was
wild
.”

Carson shook his head and crossed to
the couch with the two tequila shots. “Do I want to ask where you picked her
up?”

Taking one of the glasses, Phillip
plopped down on the couch as Carson sat in the single chair near the fireplace.

“The ice machine.” Holding his shot
up, as was the custom, to toast another lay, Phillip waited for Carson to raise
his, then tossed his drink back.

Carson
emptied his glass and set it on the
table. Waiting for the burn to move past his throat, he cleared it then spoke.
“Don’t you think you want to be a little more choosy in the women you lay? Last
thing you want is to end up with some psycho chick you can’t get rid of.”

Slamming his glass down, Phillip
leaned back on the couch with his arms widespread and a grin just as wide.
“Hell, no. That’s what this trip is for. I make sure I don’t give them any thoughts
of happily ever after. Matter of fact, that woman thinks my name is Steve.”

“What?” Carson chuckled. “How did
she come up with that?”

Phillip shrugged a shoulder. “After
I came in her mouth, she swallowed like a good girl then asked me what my name was.
I said, ‘Call me Steve.’”

“You ass.” Carson laughed harder.
“You have the morals of an alley cat.”

“Yes, I do.” Phillip held his hands
up. “I can’t help it if the women like my strut and want a taste. I feel it is
my civic duty to give it to them. Jealous of my nine to your zip?”

“Hell, no. And it’s crass to keep
score. We’re all set for the slopes tomorrow on Dragon’s Mount.”

“Great. Give me a sec to shower and
I’ll be ready to head out to dinner.”

Carson
stood and moved toward his room.
“I’ll see you in fifteen.”

Shoving off the couch, Phillip went
to the open door on the other side of the seating area. “Got it.”

In his room, Carson shut the door
and pondered his reason for coming on this trip. He could have convinced
Phillip to go to another resort that wasn’t catering to singles playing room-hop
for a week. He needed sex. Plain and simple. Since he broke it off with Ashley,
or rather she dumped him, he’d been in a dating slump, and therefore in a sex
slump as well. So why he wasn’t taking up the offers that were being tossed his
way, he had no clue. Except he liked a little more familiarity with his sex
partner and he definitely didn’t want to bed some chick that was okay with calling
him Steve
after
he shot his load down her throat.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Carson
opened his closet to get ready for the evening’s events.

Chapter
Three

“Greets, Ms. McCall, and welcome to
the Village Resort.” An Asian woman in a red jacket, gray shirt, and black
pants greeted her at the door.

“Hi,” Ryanne said and watched as one
of the bellboys in a varied combination of the woman’s uniform—gray jacket, red
shirt, and black pants—took her suitcase from the resort’s shuttle driver and
walked past her to the reception counter and waited.

“I hope your transfer from the
airport was nice. It can be a little hard to see the beauty of the mountains at
night.” The woman smiled and escorted her toward the check-in desk.

“It was only thirty minutes, so that
wasn’t bad, and the roads were clear. I was expecting a slippery ride.”

“Oh, the city does a fantastic job
of keeping our roads clear.” The woman, whose name tag said Natia, rounded the
desk and began tapping away on a computer.

“They should work for my city. I
tell you, one flurry lands in Charlotte and everything comes to a halt and
traffic accidents start piling up.” Ryanne loved the friendliness of the staff
at the ski resort. She pulled out her credit card and handed it to the clerk.

Tap. Tap. Tap
. “Okay, I have you all checked in.”
Natia slipped her a small envelope holding her room key across the desk and
passed Ryanne back her credit card. “Will you need more than one key?” The
woman’s smile did not even waver.

Frowning, Ryanne wondered who else
Natia thought would be joining her. It may be a singles trip, and she may
consider a little bump and grind if the mood hit her, but she was definitely
not
going to be passing around an extra key to her room. “One will do, thank you.”

“Great.” Natia laid a brochure, a
map, and other informational flyers before Ryanne. “Here is your information
packet with the schedule of different events, social gatherings and such.
Dinner is already over and most people are in the lounge. However, if you would
like something to eat, room service is available twenty-four hours. And there
are hors d’oeuvres being served at the evening mixer.”

“Thank you.” Ryanne collected the
packet from the counter.

“In case you need it, our Winter
Rags clothing store is located in the west area on the first floor.”

Grateful for the woman’s keen eye,
Ryanne smiled. With her card key in hand, Ryanne walked with the bellman to the
elevator. A few men exited as she and the bellman got on.

She couldn’t miss the hot glances or
the complimentary comments they made as they passed by her. It normally was not
in her nature to get excited by overt appraisal, but this was a different time
for her. She was meant to let go of the stress and worry of her daily life and
have fun here.

As they rode the car up, she
silently admitted to herself that she was a little excited about the week.
Nervous, too, but the possibility of meeting a nice guy or two had her pulse
racing a little. She wished Karri, her best friend from high school, wasn’t
already married with three kids; Ryanne would have loved having her along on
this adventure. It would have been like college all over again.

Walking down the corridor to her
suite, she groaned with that thought.
Am I being foolish?
She wondered.

If hanging out with guys, partying,
and being adventurous was parallel to her college vacation experiences, then
shouldn’t she be past all of this already?

Stepping into the single suite and
seeing the modern, stylish setup of the room, she knew she was in the right
place. This holiday excursion wasn’t for a bunch of college kids out trying to
find themselves. No, it was for adults with careers and people actively
fulfilling their goals who were game for a little snowbound excitement. And
Ryanne was game.

Tipping the bellman after he
deposited her suitcase and carry-on beside her bed in the room, she was impressed
that the suite was exactly like the brochure depicted. She’d feared that maybe
the e-mail picture that was going around was too good to be true.

Taking off her shoes, she checked
out all the amenities in the suite. A small kitchenette with mini alcohol
bottles in the refrigerator. Two place settings of dishes in the single cabinet
above the microwave. This room was set up for the normal couple vacationing in Colorado. Entering through the archway that led into the bedroom and shower area, she
tossed her shoes in the closet, pulled off her trench coat, and lifted her
suitcase onto the bed.

She wasn’t going to meet anyone
sitting around in her suite. On a mission, she unzipped and opened her case,
deciding it didn’t make much sense to unpack more than her pajamas and
underclothing, since she would need to get more appropriate apparel tomorrow.
She pulled out an outfit that was the least businesslike thing she had: slacks
and a cashmere sweater. It wasn’t alluring or remotely sexy, but it was the
best she could do at this hour.

After a quick shower, she dressed
and swept the back of her hair up in a haphazard roll. She allowed her bang,
too long to hang center forehead, to fall along the side of her face. Adding a
few curls at the ends of her loose strands, she quickly reapplied her makeup,
adding chic smoky-eye colors and plum-raisin lip gloss. She was hoping to keep
the attention toward her face so no one would notice her nine-to-five apparel.
The only saving grace of her outfit was the fact her sweater had a deep V-neckline.
Normally when she wore it, she paired it with a camisole. But without the
modesty piece, it gave a sexy visual of the curves and dip between her breasts
without being slutty.

Heels completed her outfit. As a
tall woman, it was important for her to keep heels in her fashion arsenal. As
her friend Karri, who was also statuesque, would say, “You have to be at least
six-one to ride this ride.”

Shaking her head at the memory of
her witty friend’s words, Ryanne exited her suite in search of a drink and good
conversation.

*           *           *

“Ladies, you have impressed us
greatly.” Phillip whacked Carson on the back. “Isn’t that right?”

Carson
assumed he wasn’t cheering enough
over the three girlfriends standing before them who had just completed their
three cum shot drinks one after the other. When the women together had slammed
down the last set of empty glasses on the table as white cream trickled out of
the corners of their mouths, Carson hadn’t said a word. Watching women get
hammered for the entertainment of men had never been an enjoyment for him.

“Yeah, amazed.” Carson attempted to
add a little cheer to his voice.

One of the women—Brandi? Bunny?Bella?
he couldn’t recall—sashayed closer to him as she used her thumb to catch the
droplet on her chin. Holding her thumb out to him, she teased, “I’d love to
share my cum with you.”

Horny much?
Carson looked from the mixture of
salt, peach schnapps, Bailey’s, and whipped cream in a cloudy bead on the pad
of her thumb then back into the face of the bleached blonde with way too many
layers of makeup and red lipstick. Neither she nor either of her two friends
who’d converged on him and Phillip as soon as they entered the large room even
sparked an interest for him. Whatever happened to the women that enjoyed being chased?
He wasn’t a prude or old fashioned by any definition; he just found it hard to
get aroused by women that gave it up so easily to total strangers.

“I’ll pass. I’m not into seconds.” Carson wanted to step back away from the woman with her cloying floral perfume, but he was
trying to stay on the light side of rudeness.

Brandi…Bunny…Bella…something giggled,
not understanding his meaning at all.

“I’ll take it.” One of the guys that
had gravitated toward them, as the women had been picking up their drinks one
after another and downing them, grabbed the blonde’s thumb and shoved it into
his mouth and made a lot of groaning noises.

Carson
didn’t even attempt to hold back
the frown on his face as he watched the man grab Brandi…Bunny…Bella…something
around the waist.

“I love a woman who loves her cum.
What’s your name, beautiful?”

Come on.
Carson wanted to beat his head
against the wall. Most of the guys at the resort this week were just as amped
up as the women. Looking for any warm spot to stick their cock.

“Tiffany.”

Tiffany. Now Carson recalled.

The guy whispered something in
Tiffany’s ear and more giggling ensued.

“Man, what are you doing?” Phillip
nudged him. “You’re messing up the quintuple orgy letting that one get away.”

Carson
shook his head. “I think you better
gear up to land them on your own, especially since even your ménage looks like
it is dropping to a couplet.” He nodded, indicating the brunette, one of
Tiffany’s two friends, being kissed by a Hispanic man.

“Shit,” Phillip snapped. “You look
for us two more while I keep Lola from getting away.” Turning, Phillip grabbed
Lola, the last woman of the drinking trio, and pulled her into his arms.

Sighing, Carson moved closer to the
bar and signaled one of the bar attendants for a drink. Paying for a whiskey,
he sipped at his drink and stared around the room, attempting to ignore the
crowd of eager women and sex-ready men around him. The music in the room was
loud, in what Carson believed was an attempt to be heard over all the
boisterous conversation. With drink in hand, he started to head back to his
friend, allowing his gaze to skip around the room from one woman to another. It
wasn’t that he didn’t want to get in some sex while he was here. He was just a
little more discriminating than Phillip. And apparently every other male in
this place.