Читать книгу Chalet Girls - Lorraine Wilson - Страница 13

‘Think you’ll see your crush tonight?’ Tash elbows me as we make our way over to Chalet Amélie for Sophie and Amelia‘s engagement party. Unfortunately there are some parties it‘s impossible to avoid. Not without offending people anyway.

‘My crush?’ My cheeks flush, burning with embarrassment. Crap, I am so bad at hiding my feelings. Hopefully the dark will hide my blushes.

‘The very tasty Sebastien Laroche, of course, who else?’ Tash teases. ‘Unless you‘ve got something else to confess? Have you got multiple crushes you‘re hiding from me?’

‘Huh, as if.’ I snort.

I’ve got nothing to confess. More’s the pity. I’m starting to wish I had. Not that I dare confide as much in Tash or she’d do her best to set me up with someone utterly unsuitable. I’m just not wired for casual relationships. They seem such a waste of time. I want to hold out for the right man.

‘Sebastien definitely likes you.’ Tash persists, watching me, presumably to gauge the effect of her words. ‘I saw the way he looked at you.’

‘I don’t think so.’ I stare at the ground, at the fresh, powdery snow we’re crunching underfoot. The flare of hope I feel at her words troubles me.

‘Oh, I think you know he likes you. You’re afraid of it, that’s all,’ Tash proclaims triumphantly.

That’s all?

‘Hmm. When did you get so perceptive Tash?’ I grimace.

‘Ha, I’m right, aren’t I?’ Tash grins.

I wish she wasn’t.

‘I expect he likes a lot of girls. He looks the type.’ I bite my lip. ‘I doubt he’s ever serious.’

It’s confusing. On the one hand he’s almost definitely unsuitable, but he’s also my snowboarding idol and a free-riding God. Not to mention he’s bloody gorgeous and I’ve not been able to think about anything else but him since the night of the film festival screening. The skin on my hand still tingles when I think about him holding it. I’ve replayed the way he put my hand over his heart and how it made me feel a thousand times. How mad is that? I find it disturbing that a man can have the power to do that to me.

The gesture was casual and yet at the same time intensely intimate. What does that mean? Probably that Sebastien treats physical intimacy with a casual disregard. So, he’s not right for me.

Desire and fear race through me, competing for dominance, neck and neck. I don’t know which is going to win.

‘Just because he likes women in general it doesn’t mean he can’t like you in particular.’ Tash slips her arm through mine. She’s wearing a short asymmetrical jersey dress with chunky boots and she hasn’t bothered with her coat for the short walk between the chalets. Her trademark cat-like eye shadow makes her stand out from the crowd. She’s cool. Or whatever the cool word is for cool. I don’t even know that.

I’m dowdy by comparison in my best dark indigo jeans and silky black top. I just don’t do glamorous. I feel most comfortable in my sports gear. When I’m skiing I’m in my element, it’s the only time I feel like I truly fit in.

‘Why would he like me, Tash?’ I blurt out. ‘I mean, I’m nothing special.’

Tash stops dead on the path and turns to me. ‘Are you kidding? What do you mean you’re nothing special? You’re pretty, you’re a fantastic skier and a loyal friend. Also you don’t bullshit people. That’s pretty rare, you know. He’d be lucky to have you. Plus you’re really into the things he loves.’

I smile and squeeze her arm. ‘Thanks, Tash.’

I wish I believed it. Growing up with a hyper-critical mother who saw it as her mission in life to make sure I didn’t get ‘above myself’ hasn’t done much for my self-esteem. She once told Dad off for praising me for good test results at school, saying I’d get a big head.

So, no matter how well I did, how many A grades I got or what team I made at school I never got more than a nod and a criticism that I could’ve done better. I should’ve got an A star or made team captain.

‘How long is it since you had sex?’

Tash’s question catches me off-guard.

My cheeks flame even hotter. Thank God it’s dark.

‘I don’t know exactly,’ I mumble.

‘Roughly then?’ Tash is like a terrier with a tuggy-toy. She’s not going to let go of this anytime soon.

I sigh. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, you’ve not hooked up with anyone out here that I know of.’ Tash has stopped on the path again and as we’re arm in arm she jerks me to a stop too. ‘Fuck a duck, you’re never a virgin?’

The incredulity in her tone stings. I bite my lip and look away.

‘Really? I don’t think I know any other virgins.’ Tash seems genuinely astounded. ‘How do you get to your mid-twenties and keep your virginity? Because you’ve had boyfriends, right?’

‘Yes but … where I come from it’s very church-orientated.’ I jerk my chin up. I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. ‘I used to belong to the church youth group. It was one of the few places my parents would let me go and that’s where I met my boyfriend. There was a lot of fuss made about staying pure for marriage.’

‘Really?’ Tash raises her eyebrows. ‘I can’t imagine it, but then I’ve never known anyone religious. At least I don’t think so.’

She makes it sound like I’m suffering from a rare disease.

‘I’m not … well, I used to be, but when I got older I questioned things more. My beliefs are a bit more fluid now. I suppose that’s the best way to describe it,’ I sigh. ‘My boyfriend was more … rigid.’

‘I bet he was, all that time without sex.’ Tash laughs.

I smile and roll my eyes. ‘Well, we did other stuff, you know. Just didn’t go all the way.’

‘So, what’s stopping you now?’

‘I think if I’ve waited this long I should probably save having sex until it’s perfect. I have to wait for the right man. I kind of fell into my first relationship. I said yes to the first boy who asked me out. Looking back, there was no way he was right for me.’

‘But it’s never perfect, Lucy. Life isn’t like that.’ Tash resumes the walk to Chalet Amélie. ‘If you want my advice, you need to get losing your virginity over and done with, preferably with someone you don‘t care about, because the first time is usually crap. If you don‘t sleep with multiple partners, how will you ever really know if you‘re a good match in bed with the guy you ultimately deem ‚perfect‘ to settle down with?’

‘Um, I‘m not sure I like that idea. I‘d rather wait for it to feel … right.’ I squirm beside her, half-relieved my secret is out and half-terrified this will be the catalyst for a change I‘m not sure I‘m ready for. But maybe I‘m hiding behind the excuse of waiting for it to be perfect before I commit to having sex. It means I‘ve never had to put myself out there or risk getting hurt. Also I‘ve never had to expose my sexual ignorance to anyone.

She pulls a face. ‘You might find yourself waiting a long time if you‘re not prepared to compromise at all. Actually, thinking about it, Nate is pretty near perfect but he can still annoy the hell out of me at times. Sometimes you have to adjust what you think you want for what is actually right for you. Or for what‘s right in front of you.’

Anxiety grips me as we approach Chalet Amélie. Any relief I felt at confessing my secret is overshadowed by fear of ridicule or even ending up the subject of a bet.

‘Tash, please don‘t tell anyone.’ My jaw clenches.

‘Of course I won‘t.’ Tash squeezes my arm. ‘I do think we should try and get you laid, though.’

We?

She lets go of my arm and walks ahead of me into the chalet.

‘Tash, no.’ I hurry after her, unease churning in my stomach. I really, really don‘t want to fall prey to one of her schemes, however well-intentioned she might be.

When I leave the fresh, cold night air and enter the chalet after Tash a wall of warmth hits me. I hope she‘s going to drop the subject now we‘re surrounded by people.

We find Sophie hiding out on the gallery and have to talk her into rejoining the party. It seems a shame some idiot from her past gets to ruin her engagement party. All the more reason to be very careful who you sleep with and wait for the right person. I head off to find a drink and bump into Rebecca in the crowd.

‘So, what were you arguing about with Tash earlier?’ Rebecca raises an eyebrow, clearly a seasonnaire on the scent of a secret. She‘s sipping a Kir Royale. I definitely need one.

‘Oh nothing much, it doesn‘t matter. You know what Tash is like.’ I avoid her gaze and look around to find a circulating waiter so I can grab a much-needed champagne cocktail.

I can‘t believe I kept the secret of my virginity all this time and now it‘s been out five minutes I‘m already struggling to contain it. I might‘ve known it‘d be Tash who‘d winkle it out of me. She‘s too canny by half.

Will she keep it quiet? I trust her, she‘s a good friend but not great at either keeping her voice down or being subtle. If she makes getting me laid one of her projects, well …

I reach out for a glass of Kir Royale from the tray of a passing waiter and sip the blackcurrant bubbles with champagne kick, the warmth spreading down into my chest. Mum might think cocktails are the invention of the devil but my family drink whiskey like it‘s a religion, so I don‘t see why cocktails get such a bad rap. It‘s just one of the many things I‘m not allowed to question.

Whenever I questioned anything as a child Mum would say ‚because‘ and her mouth would tighten in a way I learnt to dread. Religion was the main subject off limits, though. I once questioned why God wouldn‘t want me to use the swings in the village playground on a Sunday and Mum and Dad refused to speak to me for days. The worst part was the way they looked at me, as though I was the worst disappointment ever and I‘d been deliberately wicked when really I was just baffled. I‘d just wanted to understand.

I sigh and swig back more of the cocktail. The girls out here would think I was nuts if I tried to explain the strict Presbyterian culture I grew up in. Tash clearly thinks I‘m some kind of alien or perhaps a cult survivor.

‘Salut.’ A voice cuts through my thoughts and I‘m being embraced before I can look up.

When I do glance up Sebastien‘s large, sensual lips are already on my cheek. He kisses me enthusiastically on both cheeks and then directly on the mouth. I barely have time to register the casual intrusion of his lips and hint of tongue before it‘s withdrawn again.

‘Uh, hi.’ I blink. Did that … Is that … Okay, my brain has frozen, speech and thought resolutely refusing to obey me.

‘Where did you get to the other night? Come, come.’ He neither waits for, nor seems to expect, an answer but takes me by the hand and leads me away from an open-mouthed Rebecca. His hand is rough and large compared to mine. The contact is startling but by no means unwelcome.

It doesn‘t occur to me to refuse. Why doesn‘t it occur to me to refuse?

He draws me into a quiet alcove and pulls me down next to him on a small brown-leather sofa. The sofa is covered with the softest faux-mink throw I‘ve ever touched, it‘s so silky beneath my fingers. There‘s not much room, so I‘m pressed up against him, my thigh making contact with his. I‘m achingly aware of his close proximity and the corresponding flare into life of desire, deep inside me. It‘s like he‘s dropped a match onto a pile of dry kindling.

I‘ve never felt a desire this compelling before. Going without sex honestly hasn‘t bothered me that much, but then I‘ve never met anyone like Seb before.

Sebastien rests his hand on my thigh and leans in. I think he‘s going to kiss me but his lips don‘t make contact with my skin. I realise, with a jolt, that I really want them to. Boy, do I want them to. I am so confused. God help me.

‘Have you been thinking about me?’ He whispers. ‘Because I‘ve been thinking about you. Do you know what I‘ve been thinking?’

He trails his hand up and down my thigh, rhythmically stroking my leg. It‘s surprisingly arousing.

‘Uh, no.’ My breath catches in my chest as desire floods me, an overwhelming breach of my defences. I‘m unfurling, coming undone beneath his fingers. Every reason I ever had for waiting is disintegrating and being washed away along with my resolve.

‘I‘ve been thinking about all the things I‘d like to do to you.’ His lips brush my ear and hot breath tickles my skin as he whispers. ‘Very wicked things that will bring us both a great deal of pleasure.’

I inhale sharply, startled by the jolt of sexual electricity coursing through me. I never knew … I didn‘t think … Oh my …

His hand trails higher up my thigh and then gently squeezes my hip bone. A gentle moan escapes my lips and heat sears my cheeks. At the back of my mind I wonder if anyone is watching us but I‘m too far gone to check.

Seb‘s breath catches and the amused desire twinkling in his dark eyes morphs into something deeper, more intense, as though he too is losing control.

Finally his lips brush my neck, my collarbone and the skin exposed at the neckline of my top. My nipples harden, sensitive against my cotton bra. This is fast, far too fast. Yet my body is crying out that this isn‘t fast enough. I want him! Oh, God do I want him.

His lips are now on mine and I forget everything as his tongue explores my mouth, tasting and teasing, thrusting against my tongue in a promise of what else he could do to me. There‘s a buzz between my legs, sharp, intense need flaring into life, spreading through my body like wild fire.

My body‘s capitulation is so quick it scares me. It‘s too fast. I need to find the brake or pull the emergency cord to stop this. I pull back reluctantly.

‘What‘s wrong?’ Sebastien eyes me quizzically, continuing to languidly stroke my hip and making all the little hairs on my arms stand erect.

‘Erm, well, we don‘t know each other. This isn‘t what I do. It‘s …’ I run out of words. I don‘t know what it is. The throbbing need inside me makes it impossible to concentrate on what I’m saying.

‘You don‘t like it? Shall I stop?’ he asks immediately.

‘No, I mean yes. I mean I like it. I don‘t want you to stop exactly, just …’ I break off, flustered and afraid I‘ll push him away.

‘Sorry if I‘m going too fast. You‘re utterly irresistible. My fault.’ He pulls a funny face. ‘Shall we do things the English way? We can be stiff and awkward and pretend to ignore our attraction for each other.’

I narrow my eyes. ‘I’m actually Scottish, not English.’

‘Ah I see. There’s a difference?’

I almost launch into the kind of well-practised diatribe I have to use on idiots, but see Seb’s lips twitching.

‘You’re mocking me.’

‘Not at all.’ He grins, a hint of laughter lines around his eyes. It’s a face used to smiles and laughter. ‘I just want to make you comfortable.’

‘Thanks. You’re right. It’s all a bit fast for me.’ I tense, hoping he’ll understand and not lose interest.

Seb takes my hand and cups it in his. ‘No worries. I’m far too used to getting my own way. It will be good for me to wait. But there’s nothing to be afraid of. Attraction is an amazing thing, it would be wrong to fight it.’

‘Would it?’ I can’t help but smile. He looks so sincere at the utter wrongness of ignoring sexual attraction, but I sense an undercurrent of mockery, not of me but of himself.

A man who can laugh at himself. Hmm, I’m totally done for.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to leave?’ Seb examines me closely.

‘I definitely don’t want you to leave. I just need to go, you know, slower.’ I will him to understand.

Seb shrugs. ‘Really, it’s not a problem. We go slow. Slow can be good too. Can I kiss you?’

I nod and part my lips as his mouth meets mine. I could do this all night. My lips are tingling where they meet his. I once read that the skin on our lips is the most sensitive of anywhere on our body. Now I can quite believe it.

I’m falling deeper and deeper, taken up by desire and Seb’s muscular body pressed hard against mine. His scent intoxicates me, so clean and manly, so enticing I want to press myself even harder into him. I’ve moved little by little and so has he. We’re as close as we can be without me actually climbing onto his lap.

A very enticing proposition. Doubt presses in at the corner of my mind. Why on earth did I say I wanted to go slow? Right now my body would be happy to move at the speed of light, all my senses tingling. Feeling vibrantly alive.

My mind is flooded with images of what Seb could do to me, if I let him. Am I nuts to be holding back? I doubt many women say ‘no’ to him. I have a lifetime of experience of not crossing the line, but this is by far the hardest test I’ve ever faced.

When Seb stops kissing me and pulls away it’s hard to ignore the unfulfilled ache between my legs.

‘Shall we go for a walk?’ Seb’s eyes are dark and his breathing hard.

Maybe pulling back is hard for him too. That’s flattering. As we stand up I remind myself of all the reasons why I have to control myself. I can’t lose my virginity to a one-night stand, however enticing the proposition. And it is enticing. I might not have held out so long if Seb had been around when I was younger. I assumed I didn’t have much of a libido, but it turns out it was merely slumbering, waiting to be roused and coaxed into life by the right man.

‘Maybe we can go and look round the chalet?’ I suggest. ‘You know, I’d love to know more about the film-skiing you do and your trip to the Antarctic. It sounds amazing.’

I watch Seb closely for any signs of irritation or impatience. Normally this is the point in proceedings when I cease to be interesting and men suddenly remember they were supposed to be somewhere else. What’s the point of wasting time on a girl who’s not going to put out?

‘Sure.’ If Seb is disappointed he hides it admirably and puts as much enthusiasm into his tales of snowboarding as he did into kissing, a grin splitting his charismatic face.

We stay close as we make our way around the chalet and I listen to his stories. I‘m happy to take his arm and snuggle into his side. I can‘t give up the physical contact. It‘s as if he‘s magnetised me, somehow, and I couldn‘t pull away even if I wanted to.

Which I don‘t.

‘Have you seen the view from the terrace? It‘s too crowded in here. Would you like to get some air, perhaps?’ Seb asks, once we‘ve seen round the chalet.

‘Yes, that would be nice.’ I smile, my face practically splitting in two at the idea of being alone with him. Maybe the champagne cocktails have gone to my head a little. Perhaps they are wicked after all.

Seb‘s grin widens too and he takes my hand, leading me to the way out as he tells me how amazing it feels to be on top of the world and at one with the mountains. We both fall quiet outside on the decked terrace and stand looking down over the twinkling lights of houses in the dark valley far below. As my eyes adjust, I realise that it‘s not totally dark out here. The snowy mountains reflect the pale, white moonlight. The sky is clear and the stars glitter like diamonds. It‘s magical. I could never get bored of this. Never. I‘m falling in love with Switzerland and maybe a certain mountain boardercross champion too.

‘I could never leave the mountains. I hate the city.’ Seb leans over the rail. ‘I have to be able to see the horizon. In the cities there‘s so much concrete everywhere, it‘s stifling the earth. The earth can‘t breathe in the city and neither can I.’

‘That‘s very poetic. I feel like that too. I come from the Scottish Highlands.’

‘Ah, the Highlands. I have been to Inverness and Loch Ness, where you have your famous monster. Have you ever seen it?’

I snort. ‘No, there‘s no monster. Just miles and miles of space to breathe.’

Seb‘s hand rests over mine on the rail. I wish I could believe that this is the start of something, but I know sex isn‘t a big deal for Seb. When I finally have sex it has to be with someone who cares about me, someone I‘m in a relationship with. Sex itself is a leap for me. Casual sex is a leap too far.

‘So why did you leave Scotland?’ Seb turns and fixes me with an intense gaze that pierces through my defences.

It‘s as if he can see me, really see me. All the extraneous things of life – small talk, social niceties, external filters – have been stripped away. He‘s taken the time to look at me properly. Is this what love feels like? I don‘t want to lie to him. I feel I owe him the truth for not running as far away from me as possible. For being different from the other men who‘ve tried their luck with me since I moved to Verbier.

‘I tell everyone I came to Switzerland for the skiing, the snow is unreliable in the Highlands, after all,’ I pause. ‘And that is partly true.’

‘And what is the other reason, Lucy Lu?’ Seb strokes the side of my face.

He’s given me a nickname. Warmth spreads through my chest and my lips curve into a smile.

‘I had to get far away from home. Nothing really bad. My family are good people, but I needed space from them, to escape the life they expected me to live. I know I said there’s miles of space to breathe in the Highlands, but at home I felt suffocated.’

‘So you spread your wings. I get it. Families … pffft.’ Seb shrugs. ‘They are difficult. My family are in France and I live in Switzerland and visit once a month or so. It’s a perfect arrangement.’

I love how animated his face gets. Every craggy feature lit up with joy, amusement or desire, ever changing with his mood. Full of life. I feel a little more alive just for standing next to him, conjured into being more, feeling more by the touch of his hand on my skin.

‘Do you come from a big family?’

‘Yes, I have three brothers. We are very competitive.’ Seb raises his eyes to the stars. ‘My brother Michel got a bronze medal in the last Winter Games and I was placed fourth. I have never heard the end of it. He’s never beaten me in the Verbier Extreme, though. Do you have brothers?’

Seb’s eyes shine with humour, as bright as the starry canopy above us.

‘Yes, funnily enough I’ve got three brothers too. I guess it’s a little different being a sister. My parents are pretty old fashioned, only the males of the family matter.’ I grip the rail tightly. ‘Their only ambition for me is that I marry a local farmer.’

‘They don’t approve of you coming to Verbier?’ Seb moves closer. I can feel the warmth of his body, the enticing pull of his chemistry.

‘You could say that.’ I bite my lip and edge closer to him.

‘Well I’m very glad you did.’ Seb cups my face with his hands, eyes sparkling and my heart skips a beat.

Before I know it I’m standing on tiptoe and we’re kissing again. My arms are around him, pulling him closer and his hands slide down my back, cupping my bottom and squeezing.

Soon I’m being swept away again, by an unstoppable tide of wanting and needing … I’ve definitely been magnetised and I just can’t resist Seb’s pull. I don’t know if I’m in love or in heat.

But still there’s the persistent murmur in my head, obstinately refusing to give in and telling me to stop. I might be ready to make the leap for someone like Seb but I still can’t do casual sex. Not even for someone as divine as him. I haven’t waited this long to give it up for nothing.

I pull back. It’s possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Ever.

I take a deep breath. ‘I think we have to stop, Seb.’

‘Okay.’ Seb exhales loudly as he lets me go. As though it’s hurting him physically to let me go. I know how he feels, my own body is thrumming with protest and unfulfilled need. This is all so … complicated.

‘I do … want you,’ I whisper, gripped by fear that I’ll never see him again. That he’ll think I’m rejecting him.

‘So what’s the problem?’ His fingers continue to caress mine where I’m gripping the rail, making it hard to keep my resolve.

‘I don’t do casual sex. I’m not into one-night stands.’ I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, trying not to think about his seductive fingers and where else they might touch me. Maybe I’m also afraid to see his reaction.

‘It doesn’t have to be casual and we don’t have to stand,’ he murmurs gently, his words sending shivers down my spine.

This is bloody difficult. Seb is so very attractive. He‘s my sporting hero, everything I admire and yet … that still doesn‘t make him boyfriend material. He‘s impulse- driven. It‘s what makes him brilliant on the mountains, but I don‘t want to be tonight‘s impulse. Tonight‘s impulse is tomorrow‘s ‚that Scottish girl I shagged‘.

I‘m smarter than that.

‘But, being serious, I can‘t …’ I break off. It actually pains me to say it, especially as unsatiated desire has me reeling.

‘Can‘t do this ever or can‘t do this tonight?’ Seb quirks a dark eyebrow.

‘Can‘t do this tonight.’ I bite my lip as I step out of reach. My body screams that I‘m crazy. Who cares if he wants to use me and forget me the next morning? Seb would be mine for one glorious night.

But I do care and I can‘t do this. I‘d despise myself afterwards for selling out for a few hours of pleasure.

‘You are a very unusual girl, Lucy Lu.’ Seb looks regretful but not annoyed, thank God. Any sense of irritation and I would‘ve walked away. Permanently. ‘Anyone else and I‘d think you were playing hard to get but you‘re serious, aren‘t you?’

‘I don‘t play games.’ I make my way to the terrace steps, but each step away from Seb is a wrench.

‘So, when can we make love, Lucy Lu?’ Seb asks, a lot louder than I‘m comfortable with.

I turn around to check the terrace is still clear and no one I know is listening. Then I turn back to face him.

‘When I believe this is for real,’ I smile regretfully, and make my way down the steps. When I look back, Seb salutes me and blows me a kiss.

‘See you soon, Lucy Lu,’ he grins. ‘I feel it‘s only fair to warn you I plan to have a truly filthy dream about you tonight.’

I laugh as I walk away. I should go and find Tash or the others. It‘s rude to head off without saying goodbye to Sophie, but if I stay at the party any longer I‘m scared I‘ll cave in and end up going home with Seb.

I barely notice the cold night air as I walk back to Chalet Repos. My skin is still flushed and warm, a heat that intensifies when I remember Seb‘s hands caressing me and how good it felt to kiss him.

He won‘t be the only one having a filthy dream tonight.

Oh crap, I‘m in serious trouble.