Snowballs! Winter Fun on the Slopes, page 11
‘Oh,’ Sonia exclaimed in mock outrage, ‘you English men are all the same.’ She winked at Angus. ‘You have put your balls in my pocket and now I am fucked.’
‘Well, I took my cue from you.’ Angus raised just one eyebrow at the stunning Russian playing some form of house-rules billiards with him. ‘You seem to be playing hardball yourself.’
Sonia smiled at him, and slowly moved around the large baize table to stand next to him, seemingly to eye up her next shot. Her hip nudged him out of the way as she bent over the long wooden cue in her hand and expertly potted one of the coloured balls fast and straight into a far corner pocket. It made a satisfying clonk and then a purr as it found its way out of the netting and down under the table. Angus subconsciously winced. She stood up, slowly, as if she was a ballet dancer or Pilates teacher, her back slowly straightening one vertebra at a time, a controlled movement that best showed Angus how lean and strong her figure was. Angus had met Sonia as soon as he’d followed Hugo into the billiards room – she had locked eyes with him as she ran her hand up and down her cue, and he would be the first to admit that for just a minute his trouser-brain was doing the thinking. Sonia was stunning. Soft red curls fell about her naked shoulders, the finest threads of straps held up a wisp of fabric that just about covered her extremely pert breasts, but left her back and its toned muscles on full view. Slim fit jeans and rhinestone-studded cowboy boots finished off her outfit – she could have walked off the set of an American Dream-style film. But her thick, accented English gave away the fact that she was as Russian as a fur-lined Fabergé egg filled with vodka. Hugo, noticing the look of pure carnality Sonia had given Angus, left him to it with a not-so-subtle nudge and mention of ‘Slavic salivation’.
‘Hardball, you said?’ she looked at Angus. ‘I’ll give you hard balls.’
Angus found it hard to concentrate on his next shot, but luckily saved face and managed to get a tricky cushion-bound ball into the pocket next to it. As he stood up he briefly caught sight of Jenna batting off some sleazy old git in the next room. His hand clenched his cue a little tighter, and then tighter again as Sonia started to stroke one of her perfectly manicured hands down his back.
‘Tell me, Englishman, how did you get that nasty scar on your handsome face? If I didn’t think otherwise, I’d say you fit right in here with these gangsters and mercenaries.’
‘I’d rather not say.’ It was his default position, now the scar had been revealed. Although maybe someone like Sonia wouldn’t give two hoots about how he’d got it. If her moral fibre was as thin as her silky top, she’d understand the position he’d been in. ‘It was when I was in Singapore.’
She raised an already arched eyebrow. ‘Are architects renowned for bar brawls or street fights?’ She ran her hand down his arm, feeling his muscle as he clenched his fist around the cue, tighter now as he felt the old memories that he’d tried so hard to conceal come ripping their way to the surface. When he’d admitted to Diane how he’d got the scar she’d made her all-too-obvious excuses and he never saw her again – but there would be no wasted flights or faked tears if he told this stranger.
21
‘Straight from the horse’s mouth, quite literally darling,’ Sally squealed in excitement as she watched Jenna expertly gulp down at least two shots from underneath the icy horse. Jenna stood up and wobbled a bit, ‘Any more Belvedere might lead to Belve-oh-dear later!’ she giggled as she righted herself. Fresh air was needed. Leaving Sally with a refilled glass of fizz and dangerously close to the champagne truffles, she slid open the terrace door and shivered suddenly as the chill of the winter weather hit her. And of course, there it was, the hot tub. Sheltered from the snowflakes that fell all around it, it bubbled and steamed away, looking invitingly warm and large enough for almost half the party to slip into, it seemed. Jenna decided that now was the time to release the kraken and have a dip herself. Carpe diem was one thing though, she thought, but carpe-ing your death of cold for not taking a towel out with you for afters was quite another. She slid the heavy door closed and twisted her way back into the party until she found Bertie, entwined on the plush sofa with Yuri, whispering sweet nothings into his oligarchical ear.
Interrupting them was awkward, but not without its rewards. Both Yuri and Bertie, and then Max, Angus and Sonia, were all keen to get all bubbled up too, and only minutes later the girls were ushered into a warm, marble bathroom, complete with sumptuous robes that were plush flannel against the skin and cream silk on the outside. Towels, fluffy and white, were neatly folded over the chrome radiators and the three of them were invited, by a Filipino maid who had appeared as if by magic, to strip off in the warm before using the towelling slippers and luxury robes to make their way to the hot tub. Luckily for Jenna the number of glasses of champagne – not to mention vodka shots – she’d had outweighed the feelings of inferiority while undressing in front of two Amazonian goddesses and, quick as you like, they were all in bikinis and snuggled into their deliciously comfortable robes and slippers.
‘I may never want to leave here, you know, Bertie,’ said Jenna as she wandered, glass still firmly in hand, down the wide corridor, which was decorated with the most beautiful paintings of the Alps – not those old-fashioned ones that lined every hotel designed in the vintage-Alpine-style, but obviously by a contemporary artist, one who knew how dark shadows could create a deep purple colour, while to the eye you knew it was still a crisp white snow, inviting you up into the peaks.
‘Yes, I can see that it’s been eye-opening for you, darling,’ replied Bertie, ‘and aren’t you glad I made you wax?’
Jenna remembered the pain of earlier that evening, winced, and in the same moment remembered the look of shock on Angus’s face when he had seen her in her room through the half-open door, wearing nothing but Bertie’s skimpy bikini. Too late now, she thought as the girls made their entrance onto the terrace. Angus, Max and Yuri were already in the hot tub, with Max and Yuri puffing on stupidly fat cigars. Angus, she saw, was gazing out over the edge of the terrace looking at the amazing view, lit by the town’s and pistes’ floodlights.
Bertie slipped in right beside Yuri, with Max on the other side. Jenna noticed her looking incredibly smug, as if some sort of cosmic coming together was happening right in front of her. Sonia elegantly removed the soft robe and stepped into the steaming hot tub in between Yuri and Angus. Jenna noticed her speak a few words in Russian to their host before turning back to chat to Angus in her heavily accented English. Jenna, who was the last to slip off her warm and protective robe, made a slightly less elegant entrance, slightly slipping and splashing into the hot tub between Max and Angus, and didn’t unclench her stomach muscles until she was well and truly immersed in the hot, steamy water.
Angus had definitely been enjoying the view. Having been introduced to Yuri at last, he’d declined a cigar and left Max and the oligarch talking international economics and puffing away. The mountains rose up majestically beyond the sheltered terrace, decorated with the lights of piste-bashers. He turned back towards the chalet in time to see the three girls approach, take off their robes and slip into the hot tub, and he felt something else rise up majestically too. He felt himself stiffen further, and not just in his trunks, as Jenna ended up next to him, splashing and giggling in the almost foamy froth around them. He was completely transfixed by her beautiful soft breasts as they bobbed up and down in the bubbly water and it was a monumental task to drag his eyes away from them. Desperately seeking something else to stare at, he focused on the soft tendrils of her hair, curling in the rising steam, and the smile on her face as she giggled with Max about the bubbles underneath them. As Angus watched her laugh and flirt with her old friend he tried to subtly move closer to her too, but was stopped in his tracks. In an instant he knew that the firm grip now around his very erect penis wasn’t Jenna’s, as both her hands were wildly gesticulating some story to Max, and with a feeling of disappointment that no man should have when he realises a girl who could do that with a billiard ball is fondling him, he turned to look at Sonia. It took him slightly by surprise that on the surface she was ignoring him while talking to Yuri and Bertie, but like the hand job version of a duck, underneath the water she was vigorously moving her hand up and down his considerable length, while above the surface she was serene as a swan. It was when she rubbed her thumb over the very tip of his dick that he let his pleasure be real. Fuck it, he thought as the surge of testosterone pumped around his body. When had Jenna ever been interested? She wasn’t even looking at him.
Max was feeling less of the hot tub love. Having felt sure that a shag with Bertie would have been a dead cert tonight, he was feeling less and less like the odds-on favourite as he couldn’t fail but notice the chemistry between his old sparring partner and Yuri the bloody oligarch. And what made it worse was that he wasn’t just rich, or very, very rich, but ripped too. Max, for one of the first times since puberty, felt not a little inferior. Taking another puff of his ridiculously fat cigar, he decided there was only one thing for it. If Bertie was to have her fun, and she most certainly seemed to be having it with that Leningrad lothario (if the closeness of her chest to his head was anything to tell by), then he would make some hot tub memories of his own. And it’s not like he’d never thought of Jenna in that way. Old friend and muckabout she might be and once a bit chubby and fresh-faced for him, but now, come to think of it, she was looking quite hot and that little black bikini was definitely helping her buoyancy aides become really quite bouncy. And hadn’t she always had a bit of a soft spot for him? Slipping his arm around her even he was surprised at quite how quickly she melted into him, knocking back the last of her champagne and shakily placing the flute to the side of the tub.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘Looks like we’ve been rather thrown together in this sexual soup.’
‘I thought it would be so much more fun,’ she hiccupped, just as she realised that Max was fingering the straps of her bikini. ‘Oh, I see …’
‘No reason why it can’t be fun,’ replied Max, taking his wandering hand one step further and easing his strong, masculine fingers over her shoulder and down towards her bouncing, beautiful breast. ‘I always thought we’d get together one day, Jenksy. I mean, in all these years we’ve known each other, neither of us has ever really had anyone special.’
Holding onto the last of her reserve, Jenna hesitated before saying, ‘Well, I mean we have … don’t you remember … I mean, but I’ve always liked …’ But at that she couldn’t say any more. Max started to nibble her ear while simultaneously sliding his adept fingers into the cup of her bikini top, finding her nipple, and gently starting to rub and squeeze it. Pulling her closely into him he whispered in her ear soothing words – that no one else right now mattered – and she believed him as the touch of his skin, the feel of pressing against his rigid torso was so exquisite after months and months of being alone, not to mention that this was Max, after all. Max, the university love god; Max, the City cad who could have any girl he wanted; Max, who just a minute ago had told Jenna that he’d always thought they should be together (hallelujah!) and that Bertie meant nothing to him (double hallelujah!). She pulled herself closer to him and as his mouth found hers she slipped onto his lap, letting the steamy, bubbling water be the only thing between them. Tracing his strong jawline with exploratory fingers, she deepened his kiss and felt that it wasn’t just his torso that was hard. Letting him pull her closer so her legs were either side of him she felt the huge shaft of his penis rub against her stomach …
What Jenna didn’t know at this point was that, although Bertie was unaware of Max’s moves, happily occupied as she was being taught some very explicit Russian for parts of her body that Yuri was enjoying pointing out to her, it was Angus who now looked on, sick to the heart at what he saw. Sonia was still stroking his face and nibbling his ear, content in knowing she had given someone rather tasty the most amazing orgasm, and although he should have been revelling in the same semi-exhausted state as her, it had only taken a split second for all his feelings of well-being to be replaced with a jealous anger as he saw his best mate pull the girl he was starting to realise he loved onto his lap and start nuzzling her beautiful, bouncing breasts.
22
Just as Angus was flexing his fist, not really knowing how to react to what he saw in front of him, a very drunk and very upset Sally stumbled out onto the terrace, her face streaked with tears.
‘Jenna! Jenna!’ she yelled, half tripping and half sliding over the icy wetness of the veranda towards the tub.
‘Watch the dress,’ sneered Bertie as she disentangled herself from Yuri and for the first time noticed that Jenna was having more than just a friendly cuddle with Max. Before she could ask just what the hell was going on, Sally blurted out, ‘He’s kissed her! Hugo’s kissed that bloody little girl. Oh, Jenna,’ she sobbed as she fell to her knees. ‘Please take me home.’
Angus was first out of the hot tub, pleased to have some action to perform other than bashing his best friend’s face in or shaking the idiocy out of Jenna. He grabbed his towel from the edge of the balcony, wrapped it around himself as the steam rose off his body, and crouched by Sally’s side.
Only an instant later, that instant having been well used in making sure all necessities were covered, Jenna had pulled herself out of the hot tub and grabbed her robe before also kneeling down next to her weeping friend. Trying to make sense of the situation through the heaving, snotty sobs, it was all Jenna could do to understand what Sally was trying to tell her. ‘Hugo had what? Kissed Ulrika? Or was it Slavicka? Surely not, darling, he loves you, you’re engaged …’ Through the comforting and sobbing – with even Max and Angus helping the poor beleaguered Sally to her unsteady feet – Jenna tried to fathom what had actually happened. Far from being concerned for his guest, it all seemed rather distasteful to Yuri. And with a similarly withering look at Max, Bertie flung her own robe around her, flicked her hair out of the collar and let herself be led by her Russian lover along the chilled terrace, past the doors now open to the party inside, to his master bedroom suite, the other side of the chalet. As a security guard nodded them in, Jenna looked up to see Sonia breeze past the guard too. Usually this would have made Jenna wide-eyed with the thought of what could possibly be happening and who she could tell about it in hushed but excited whispers, but right now she couldn’t give a monkey’s what Bertie got up to with Yuri. Or Sonia. Or both of them. Her thoughts were all about getting Sally inside and sorted out, and getting herself out of this ridiculous bikini and off this fricking freezing terrace. With Angus’s help (Max had been a little distracted watching the now be-robed and fur-hatted Sonia follow the lamé-ed Bertie into the boudoir), Jenna led Sally through the party throng. Some faces turned to stare, having seen the mad Englishwoman in the tight dress tearing through the room only moments earlier, others not at all interested due to the fact that their own lives were obviously of much more consequence and interest.
Out of the main reception hall and along the painting-hung corridor they walked, both Angus and Max by now helping the distraught – and quite drunk – Sally stay upright. Jenna stopped by the bathroom door. It was open and, as she glanced in to check that no one was in there, she thanked her slightly more sober self for hanging up her dress on the lovely warming rail.
‘Sally, darling, I’ve got to get dressed and then we can find that lovely snugly fleece of yours.’
‘It’s Hugo’s, the bastard,’ Sally half-yelled through snot-filled sobs.
‘Yes, but you so wisely brought it, darling, so let’s get the boys to find it and I’ll get dressed and we’ll all go home, won’t we, chaps?’ Jenna looked up at Max and Angus – both standing there, still dripping wet, but no less handsome for the rash of goosebumps appearing across their broad chests. Wow, she thought, and added out loud to Sally, in an effort to defuse the situation, ‘And look at these naked hunks next to you. Nice, huh?’
Jenna ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. She slipped the robe off, towelled down, and found her knickers and dress. Popping her clothes back on, her mind boggled. Only a few minutes ago she had been in a hot tub with Max telling her, kinda, that he loved her. Well, implying it really – he had after all said they were meant to be together, hadn’t he? And then Sally – and Hugo – would he really cheat on her? Here? In front of her? Surely not, there must be an explanation, for if all was not right in Sally and Hugo’s camp then Jenna’s beliefs about true love and fidelity would be rocked forever.
With only a quick look in the mirror to check she wasn’t looking too much like a drowned rat, and only pausing to let her hair down and run her fingers through it to detangle the worst of it, she opened the bathroom door to a still half-naked Angus.
‘Took your time, Jenks,’ he growled, as he stood, hugging the shuddering Sally. ‘Max has gone to get changed. I need to. Stay with her.’ Pointing to Sally wasn’t necessary and Jenna harrumphed an ‘of course’ back at him, unsure where his sudden shit mood had come from and even more unsure of why its sudden nature bothered her so much. He continued, ‘Max is phoning a cab because we can’t go out in this weather, we’d all freeze by the time we got anywhere and I don’t think Yuri will spare us the Hummer without Her Majesty with us.’
