The cut of her jaw is too tight, muscles and tendons flexing, and I touch her chin mostly to ease the pressure there. To remind her that she doesn’t need to clench up. To get those eyes back on mine, so I can say, “I think we have.”
I brush my lips over hers, tasting the hot cocoa she drank earlier, but she instantly deepens it, opening her mouth to my eager tongue. The rush of heat that spreads through my limbs makes me rumble, deep in my chest, because I’ve changed my mind. The slick warmth of her tongue against mine has to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. I could easily succumb to it, let myself fall into how good it is, just being inside her mouth.
But I pull back, jaw going tight at the restraint I need to do so. “Take this ride with me, little sister. I’ll keep you safe.”
Her eyes flutter open, and she might be high right now, but I know some of that glassiness in her gaze is on account of me. “Promise?” The question is loaded—more about than just a simple sleigh ride. It’s about life and everything hurtling our way.
And it’s easy to answer.
“I promise.”
She faces forward and squirms her ass against me, making my cock swell.
Rubbing up against me.
But despite my earlier thoughts about not holding back, I just can’t bring myself to ruin the moment by pushing anything. Her arms loop around mine, holding on tight, and it does something to me, having her in my arms. It’s the same way I felt those few times she curled against me to sleep. Like this is something I need to protect. Something I need to be careful with.
I rock back and forth, gaining enough momentum to push off, sending us down the chute and onto the ice covered hill. She lets out a shocked little screech, but it’s followed by a sudden peal of laughter. Down at the bottom, the guys cheer us on, and I feel the tickle in my belly—the one she talked about—that swoop that feels loose and out of control.
It’s not the ride or the drugs that make me feel it.
It’s the girl.
This has been seven solid hours of agony.
The Molly’s good—Rath knows his product better than most—which means that we spend all afternoon looking for excuses to get Story into our laps. Sledding was the easy bait.
She acts like a cat, rubbing herself on the three of us. She seeks skin; pressing her icy hands against our faces and slipping up shirts. It’s the tiniest of touches, but everything is heightened and by the time it’s dark and we’re all sitting around Tristian’s ambitious bonfire, I’ve had a boner for hours.
I’m actually grateful we’re coming down. Or, at least the three of us are.
Story is still stroking the back of Rath’s hand. “You were right,” she whispers, staring wonderingly at his skin. “Everything feels amazing.” She shivers and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her close. We’ve been out here for a few hours and the chill has settled in.
“I can’t believe you’re still rolling.” Rath looks at her the same way she’s looking at his hand. “Your metabolism is fucking insane.”
“Remember freshman year?” Tristian pokes at the fire with a stick, stoking the flames. He always gets this devious glint in his eye around an open flame, like the little imp inside his head is dying to come out and play. “That pledge who got so high they had to tie him down? Handsy little fucker.”
I laugh, replaying the memory. “I wonder if he was actually gay, or if the drugs were just that good.”
“In all fairness,” Tristian says, “the hot tub was a sausage fest that year. When it comes to pussy, options are never good for a pledge.”
Story looks around and then turns back to us, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “The hot tub! Would that feel good, too?”
“Oh,” Rath says, already standing and pulling her with him. “Let’s find out.”
Tristian bends over the box of fire supplies, still muttering about the fire. “If I add some lint and rearrange the kindling—”
“Tris!” I bark. His eyes snap up, and I point toward the house. “Hot tub, dude. Priorities.”
His eyebrows shoot up as he watches Story and Rath jog over to the tub. She stops by the edge and unzips her hoodie, and he springs into action, closing the box. “Oh, right. Good call.”
In the blue light coming from the tub, I see Story shivering in a t-shirt and panties, dipping a toe in the steamy water. While she eases in, cautiously dipping beneath the surface, Rath punches the button on the panel, starting up the gurgling jets.