S.E.C.R.E.T.: An Erotic Novel (25 page)

“How about a free ski lesson to make it up to me?” the man offered. Yes, there definitely
was a slight French accent—or rather, Québécois.

“What if I don’t need a lesson?” I said, feeling a little confidence return.

“So you’re familiar with these slopes?” He smiled an irresistible smile. “You know
the conditions and can spot the black diamond runs, know which lifts take you where,
and which beginner runs turn treacherous if you’re not paying attention?” Who was
I kidding?

“No, actually,” I admitted. “I’ve been circling the base for a couple of days. I don’t
know if I have the nerve to go up.”

“I’ll be your nerve,” he said, giving me his arm.

Theo was a natural teacher, and though I resisted the scarier black diamond runs,
after an hour of easily carving up the Saddle, the cold glacial slope where the snow
is as sharp and crisp as I’d ever known snow to be, we took an express lift to the
Symphony Bowl. Theo promised me a mix of challenging drops with easy ridges to give
my quivering thigh muscles a bit of a break, then a leisurely five-mile run to the
village. I was glad for my nightly running routine in New Orleans. Had I hit the slopes
with no prior conditioning, I’d have been paralytic in front of a fire for the rest
of the weekend.

At the rim of the Bowl, I had to stop. Yes, the white rippled snow, which stretched
to meet a sky so blue it hurt to look at it, was utterly breathtaking. But I also
marveled at how my world had changed with a simple “yes.” Over the last several months,
I had been able to do things that would have been utterly inconceivable a year ago.
Not just the sex with strangers, but volunteering for the Ball, taking up running,
dressing a little sexier, being more outgoing with people, standing up for myself,
and now, coming here, alone, with little idea of how my four days would unfold.
I never would have done these things before accepting the gift of S.E.C.R.E.T.

When this young man balancing skis on his shoulder had approached me in the square,
instead of recoiling from the advance, or questioning it, I tried to accept that this
was possible, that I might be worthy of this man’s attention. An hour later, quite
literally on top of the world, I began to feel transformed. Yet there was still part
of me that doubted the spontaneity. Part of me was still waiting for us to reach a
crest and share a lingering look, and for Theo to ask if I’d accept the Step.

“Beautiful,” Theo muttered, stopping next to me and taking in the view I was admiring.

“I know. I don’t think I’ve seen anything this spectacular in my entire life.”

“I meant you,” he said, and I caught a glimpse of his casual grin, before he pushed
off and dropped over the lip of the Bowl.

I couldn’t help but follow him down, and for a few terrifying seconds I was airborne.
After a wobbly landing, I righted myself and fell into the groove he’d carved ahead
of me. He expertly weaved through the glades, glancing back every once in a while
to make sure I was keeping up. After a hard right turn at an unmarked path, we soon
joined a cluster of skiers beating dusk to the cozy village, now twinkling yellow
and pink in the fading sun.

At the base we skied up to each other, and he held up a hand for a high-five.

“Brave girl!” he said.

“What was so brave?” I asked as our gloved hands made contact. I felt flushed and
giddy from the fast trip down.

“The first mile of that last run was a black diamond run and you just did it. Without
even thinking!”

I felt something like pride mingled with glee.

“A drink to celebrate?” I asked.

We made our way to Chateau Whistler, where I was staying, and crossed the Great Hall,
where everyone seemed to know Theo. He introduced me to the waiter, Marcel, an old
friend also from Québec, who brought us fondue and two hot rum toddies, followed by
steaming bowls of mussels and frites. I was so hungry I began devouring handfuls of
fries, then caught myself.

“Oh my God,” I said, mortified. “I’m eating like an animal. Look at me,” I said, unable
to resist popping another handful into my mouth.

“That’s what I’ve been doing all day,” he said, reaching across the table and pulling
me towards him for a kiss. His hands were strong and callused from gripping ski poles
all day. His hair was tousled and I knew mine was too, though probably not so adorably.
But it didn’t matter. This guy was into me, I could tell. I flashed back to Pauline
and her man in Café Rose, and their intense connection. Now I was having the same
sort of experience. I shyly glanced around the chalet to see if anyone was noticing
this … me … 
us
. No. We were in our own private world, even in public.

We talked for a long time after that, mostly about skiing and the feeling it gave
us, reliving for each other our finest moments from that day. I wasn’t avoiding any
personal questions. They just didn’t seem as important as the way he was touching
my wrist or looking into my eyes. After dinner, when he snatched the bill off the
table and stood looking down at me, holding out his hand, I knew we weren’t going
to say good-night anytime soon.

I hadn’t even realized how bone-chilled I was until Theo peeled my clothes off in
the bathroom of my hotel room, one layer after the other.

“Is there some flesh underneath all of this?” he joked as he pulled off my leggings.

“Yes.” I laughed.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

After he’d flung my clothes in a pile just outside the bathroom, I was completely
naked except for a few impressive bruises blooming on my calves and arms. Those elicited
a long slow whistle from Theo.

“Wow, war wounds.” He turned on the shower and steam started to fill the room. “Time
to warm you up.”

“You’re not making me go in there on my own, are you?” I asked, more shocked by my
boldness than he seemed to be.

He laughed, ripping off his clothes. His body was fit
and athletic. Yes, this man skied all day. All year, probably. I stepped into the
shower and he joined me, and seconds later our mouths met under the gushing water.
He trailed his hands down my arms, guiding my hands up over my head and pushing them
against the wet wall behind us. He used his knees to coax mine open, lifting my body
slightly so my legs were on either side of him. He was firm but not forceful. I felt
like a starfish pressed against the wall. He licked down the side of my neck, his
hardness against my stomach. Then he gathered one of my breasts in his wide hand and
sucked the droplets of water off my nipple. The fingers of his other hand began an
aching descent down my body, until he slipped one, then another, inside. I could feel
my own wetness while the water pummeled us. He locked eyes with me, and I brought
my arms down and entwined my hands in his wet hair. The water was making my feet slip,
so he gently placed one hand behind my buttocks, anchoring me there.

“You like this?”

“I’ve never done this before,” I said.

“Want to try something new, then?”

The steam in the shower was building around us. I could feel all the pores of my skin
opening to him, all of me opening to him.

“I’d try anything with you,” I said.

He lifted my naked body around his hips, and before I knew it he was carrying me,
dripping, out of the bathroom and across the tile and then the carpet to the king-size
bed,
where he laid me down. He returned to the bathroom to shut the shower off and to find
his pants, digging into his pockets, I assumed, for a condom. Then he stood at the
edge of the bed, glistening.

I crawled towards him, taking him into my mouth while he watched. Seconds later, he
ripped open the package and handed me the condom. I unfurled it over him, and then
he gently pushed me down onto my back and licked me expertly, eagerly, my knees splayed
open, an arm flung across my eyes. Before I could even catch my breath, he turned
me over in his strong arms, so my back was to his front, and I could feel his erection
harder than it had been even a few minutes before.

Kissing down the side of my neck, he whispered, “We’re just getting started.” Nudging
my legs apart, he pulled one of my thighs over the top of his, until our bodies formed
an entwined letter S. I felt his hands exploring my back, and then exploring a whole
new part of me. At first it was just a finger, painful at first, but the pain quickly
subsided and gave way to a wide, delicious fullness. I felt my stomach drop the same
thrilling way it did when I skied over the ridge. Then he entered me from behind,
not in the way I was expecting. The feeling was intensely, excruciatingly pleasurable.
He clutched me hard to keep me close to him.

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” he whispered, tenderly combing my wet hair away from my
face and neck.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes. It feels so … it’s a good hurt.”

“I can stop anytime. You sure it feels good?”

I nodded again, because it did, it felt so good, and so intimate, this thing we were
doing. I clutched a fistful of the sheets and pulled them to me as the full sensation
gave way to a wave of intense pleasure that moved through my whole body. This was
something I would never in a million years have thought I’d want to try. But here
I was saying “yes, yes, yes” as he inched inside me even deeper and brought his hand
around and under me, making me wetter and wetter. I came again, pushing backwards
into him, the abandon I felt hard to contain. I needed this kind of release, in this
place, in this room, in this bed, with this man who seemed put here to take me through
this experience.

“I’m going to come. You’re making me come now,” he said, clutching my center with
one hand, bending me farther forward as he bit softly into my shoulder, his other
hand caressing my breasts. When he was done, he subsided with the gentlest tug and
we both shifted onto our backs, his hand across my stomach, to look at the ornate
ceiling that neither of us had noticed until just then.

“That was … intense,” he said.

“I know,” I said, still gasping for air.

I had done something new and it was thrilling, but now I was feeling a bit vulnerable.
This man wasn’t from S.E.C.R.E.T. There had been no Step to accept, just a plunge
into all-new terrain. Theo must have sensed my shift in mood. “You okay?”

“I am. I just … I’ve never done that in my life. I don’t normally pick up strangers
and take them to bed,” I said.
Despite the fact that the men from S.E.C.R.E.T. were technically strangers, the women
from S.E.C.R.E.T. knew them.

“So what if you did? Where’s the crime in that?”

“I guess I never saw myself as that kind of woman.”

“I see that kind of woman as daring, brave.”

“Really? You see me like that?”

“I do,” he said, gently spooning me in a way that was so tender, it was odd to think
we barely knew one another. He pulled a heavy duvet over our bodies and nested it
around us.

When I woke six hours later, he was gone. And oddly, I was fine with that. I was so
happy to have had those moments with him, and to let them pass without feeling loss.
As sweet as he was, I actually wanted to enjoy my last days in Whistler alone. Still,
it was nice to read a note he left on the bathroom vanity:
Cassie, you are lovely. And I am late for work! But you know where to find me
. À
bientôt, Theo
.