A/N: The weekend continues. And this is most definitely rated M.
A/N #2 (10/15/12): This has been "moved" into Invincible's main story. FYI. Track that one for updates on this relationship!
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
Santana grinned as she snapped the bindings down over her boot. "It's a ski resort. Did you think we wouldn't ski?"
"I had hoped." Shelby struggled to slam her heel down hard enough to snap into her second ski, but it eventually popped.
Santana was on her snowboard, wiggling enough to rock back and forth impatiently. "You said you've skied before. What's the big deal?"
"I was twenty-five."
"And?"
"And I'm not exactly in the same shape I was when I was twenty-five."
"I find that hard to believe." Santana pulled her mirrored aviator sunglasses off the top of her head and slipped them on. "Come on."
"I'm going to break myself!"
Santana laughed and kicked herself toward the bunny hill. She would give Shelby the courtesy of not watching her complete lack of coordination while she got her bearings. Not that she would admit it, but she was a little shaky, too. A couple weekend trips in middle and high school were her only experience.
"The bunny hill? What, scared of the real deal?" Shelby had caught up with her.
Santana felt her competitive streak prickle. She and Shelby had a very balanced relationship, but now and then they would square off in a battle of who was better/stronger/faster/wittier/funnier/had the bigger lung capacity. Shelby was smiling mischievously. Now would be one of those times.
"In your dreams," Santana said, scoffing. "Thought I should give my old lady an easy start. Don't want you to fall and break a hip."
"Take that back."
"Prove me wrong."
"Fine. Let's go." Shelby pushed herself forward with her ski poles, still awkward with the rhythm required to move across the flat snow.
Santana kicked after her, not saying anything as she passed her, but waited patiently for her to catch up so they could get in line at a chair lift together. They jostled one another playfully on the ride up, pausing halfway to kiss.
"Remember to keep your tips up," Santana said as they neared the top.
"I know what I'm doing," Shelby said, readying herself.
They both slid off the bench relatively well and stopped a few feet away from the main traffic so Santana could clip her other foot in. "So, are we racing? Or what?"
"I believe that's our only option." Shelby adjusted her beanie and scarf as she waited.
Santana slid up alongside Shelby, both of them looking down the slope. It was the easiest run at the resort, aside from the bunny hill. "Then count it off."
"On your mark. Get set. Go!"
Santana bent her knees and hopped forward, immediately wobbling. It took a few seconds to find her balance but the skill came back to her quickly. She zig-zagged down the hill, only making it a point to stay ahead of Shelby, who was one zag behind her.
She had forgotten how much fun snowboarding was, and just as she started to get lost in her experience, she heard Shelby's distinctive yelp. Santana hit the brakes on her board, almost falling over from the quick turn. She leaned on its edge to look back up the hill just in time for a lone ski to slide right to her. Shelby and the rest of her equipment were twenty feet up, sitting in the snow.
Santana grabbed the ski and held it up. "Yard sale!"
Shelby's hand was in the air, and though it was impossible to discern because she was wearing mittens, Santana knew which finger she was holding up.
"Hip okay?"
The other mittened hand went up and Santana laughed as she bent down to unstrap herself, hefting her board under one arm and Shelby's rogue ski in the other to walk up the hill.
"Shut up," Shelby said as she grabbed her ski from Santana and tossed it to the snow to step back into it.
"I didn't say anything," Santana said melodically.
"Let's keep it that way. Bye!" Shelby turned and pushed down the hill, leaving Santana with her snowboard in her hand and far behind.
"Hey!" Santana shrieked. "Oh that bitch," she said to herself as she threw her board on the snow and strapped her feet back into place as fast as she could to head after her.
The adrenaline and irritation that she had allowed herself to be tricked her made her pick up her speed, and around every bend she expected to catch up with Shelby, but she never did. In fact, she didn't find her until she was at the bottom of the run, and Shelby was standing by the fence, waiting.
"'Bout time. I think it's almost Spring."
"You played dirty!"
Shelby was grinning. "Did you forget who I am?"
"But you cheated!" Santana was livid. She did not like being tricked. She liked losing even less.
"No, no, no, honey," Shelby said with a laugh. "I capitalized on your known chivalric tendency. Thank you for catching my ski, by the way."
"Yeah, you're welcome," Santana huffed.
"Aww," Shelby said with a pout as she shuffled to Santana to wrap her arms around her waist, the angle awkward thanks to their equipment. "Don't be a sore loser."
Santana smiled a little and ducked her head to kiss Shelby's cheek. "Rematch, now that I know what I'm actually up against?"
"You're on."
"If it makes you feel better, I think I pulled a muscle in my back when I wrecked that second time," Santana said as they shed layers of winter gear in the foyer. She had been the victor in what had become a best-of-seventeen-runs competition.
Shelby pulled off her beanie, smiling a little. "It might."
Santana rotated her arm a few times and twisted at the waist, trying to crack her back dramatically. "I can already feel it tightening up."
"I think you dropped something," Shelby said as she dealt with the static in her hair left by her hat.
"And what's that?" Santana asked with a smile.
"A hint, maybe?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Santana grimaced and held the back of her neck.
Shelby rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen to grab a couple bottles of water from the case on the counter before heading upstairs. "Yes, I will give you a massage. But only if you shower first. You stink."
Santana gasped in offense. "I do not!"
Shelby leaned back around the corner of the stairwell. "You look like you do. Shower."
Santana grumbled as she followed Shelby upstairs to their room, snatching a bottle out of her hand as they went. It wasn't until she peeled off her undershirt that she noticed how much of a sweat she had worked up beneath all the layers. But she didn't stink.
"You gonna join me?" she asked.
"No, you go ahead. I want to check in with Puck and Quinn and need to check my email. I'll hop in after you."
"At least come talk to me if I'm not out before you're done," Santana said as she closed the shower's door behind her.
Santana finished without Shelby coming in, so she tied the belt on her bathrobe to venture out and find her. Shelby was sitting on the foot of the bed, eyes unfocused, chewing on her thumbnail.
Santana's heart dropped immediately. "What's wrong? Is Beth okay?"
Shelby jerked back to attention, plastering on a bright smile. "She's fine! She's fine. They went sledding today and built a snowman. Quinn emailed me pictures," Shelby said, nodding toward her open laptop on the desk in the corner.
Something still felt off, but Shelby would never lie about her daughter's wellbeing, so Santana chose to let it go, for now. She leaned over the desk chair, scrolling through the photos: Quinn and Beth being pulled on a bright red plastic sled; Puck holding onto Beth as they rode down a hill; Beth in her purple snowsuit that made her look triple her actual size, pushing a clump of snow along the ground; Puck jamming arm sticks into a full-sized snowman; Beth crying as the big snowman lay in pieces on the ground, apparently having toppled over; Quinn holding her and obviously trying not to laugh as she cried. Santana was glad they were getting to spend time with Beth; she couldn't imagine having a child and giving her up, but she would forever be grateful that their decision led to Beth being part of her own life.
"I miss her," she said as she closed Shelby's laptop and turned to lean against the chair.
"Me, too." Shelby stood with a sigh. "I'll go shower. Meet you downstairs?"
Santana knew she was still hiding something, but as much as it drove her crazy, she knew Shelby would always tell her when she was ready. They had had enough arguments for her to learn that no amount of nagging would get it out of her.
"Sure," Santana said with a smile.
She went back downstairs to flip through the leather-bound room service menu. It was more like an all-in-one delivery menu, since it came via car and in take-out containers, but who was she to nitpick? The food was amazing. She called in dinner and went to the living room to wait, noticing the fireplace. She poked at it a few minutes trying to figure out if it was real or not until she found a palm-sized remote control sitting on the mantle. Guessing, she pointed it at the fireplace and pushed the "on" button, not sure if it or the television or some other gadget would come to life. When flames shot up, she smiled triumphantly and sat on the couch, holding her bare feet toward the fire to warm them.
"Nice." Shelby's voice right next to her ear startled her, having gotten lost in watching the flames dance.
She felt hands squeezing her shoulders and she shivered, the promise of a proper massage on the horizon. "Thought it might be romantic."
"I think you might be right." Shelby pressed a kiss to Santana's cheek, straightening just as their doorbell rang. "Dinner?"
"Yeah," Santana moved to get up, but Shelby put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll get it."
Shelby returned a minute later, paper bag in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other, looking adorable and ridiculous with her wet hair and bathrobe. "You're really laying it on thick."
"What, now I'm too romantic?"
"I didn't say that," Shelby said with a smile as she set the delivery on the couch next to Santana. "Stay."
Santana laughed. "Me, or the food?"
"Both."
Shelby disappeared and returned a minute later, apparently having found a spare blanket and pillow in a closet somewhere. She dropped them on the floor and left again, this time returning with a pair of wine glasses and bottle opener from the kitchen. She set them on the mantle and picked up the blanket to unfold it and settle it flat.
Santana watched her work, unable to keep from smiling. They were both diehard romantics, and the craziness of their day-to-day lives rarely afforded them the opportunity to indulge each other. "Fireside picnic?"
"Of course," Shelby said, flashing a smile as she moved the glasses to the hearth and retrieved the dinner delivery before easing herself down to sit on the blanket to unpack the various containers. "What did you order?"
Santana slid off the couch to sit across from Shelby, tossing the bag aside when it was empty. "Comfort food. Let me?" She held her hand out, glancing at the wine. Shelby passed it to her with the bottle opener and Santana set to working on it.
"I better not get arrested for contributing to a minor."
Santana laughed and eased the cork out, setting it aside so Shelby could hand her a glass. "No arrests, I promise."
"I have some handcuffs upstairs, though, if necessary," Shelby said coolly, trading a filled glass for the other empty one.
Santana choked on her sip of wine, almost spilling it as she coughed.
"I'm kidding!" Shelby said, laughing as she rescued the glass from Santana's hand, setting it aside.
"Hilarious," Santana said dryly. "Not that I would object," she added, cocking an eyebrow at Shelby.
"Duly noted. Now," Shelby said, popping open the top of one of the takeout containers, "what's for dinner?" She laughed, immediately passing the box to Santana.
Santana settled the container on her lap and picked up the cheeseburger. "I told you I got comfort food."
Shelby opened the other entrée-sized container, shaking her head. "It's perfect. Though I don't know how well cheeseburgers pair with red wine?"
"Beef is beef," Santana said with a shrug, chomping into the burger.
Shelby tilted her own cheeseburger toward Santana in a mock toast. "And wine is wine."
"I think I need to take you up on that massage offer before you claim you're too tired," Santana said as she returned from the kitchen, having gotten rid of the remnants of dinner.
"Don't worry, I'm good for it." Shelby split the last of the wine between their glasses. "Lie down. And lose the robe."
Santana untied her belt, but hesitated.
"What, suddenly modest?"
"Yeah right. Pull the curtains – I'm not giving the village a free show."
Shelby laughed and got up to draw the curtains over the large bay window.
Santana shed her robe and tossed it aside, smirking at Shelby's failure to mask her reaction upon turning around. "You know the only person I let see the ladies is my lady."
"Lucky me," Shelby said quietly. "Go ahead and lie down."
Santana twisted and turned to settle on her stomach, cheek against the floor, hair pulled to the side. She closed her eyes and waited. It was hard not to giggle – not that anything was particularly funny, but it was just so cliché: wine and a massage on a fuzzy blanket in front of a fireplace in a winter cottage. And she wouldn't change a thing.
She sensed Shelby above her, and then felt her a moment later as she settled against the backs of Santana's thighs. She couldn't feel terrycloth against her and she wondered if Shelby was still wearing her robe. She kept her eyes closed, electing to determine it solely through what she could feel. The thought made her pulse race a little.
"This might be a little cold."
She heard the creak, pop, and snap of a plastic lid. She knew the sound well – it was the travel-sized bottle of lotion Shelby perpetually kept in her purse and used multiple times per day. And then cool hands were pressing into her lower back, slowly gliding higher until fingers wrapped over shoulders, squeezing gently.
A sigh was the most Santana could manage. Shelby's hands moved slowly, zeroing in on the knot below her left shoulder blade. She really had tweaked something today, and the hot pain of it loosening was welcomed. Her massages were always magical, and this was no exception. In fact, it was more so, heightened by the fire, the wine, and…the bare breasts that were pressing into her back as lips grazed her neck. She had a fleeting moment of personal satisfaction that her suspicion was confirmed, and then it immediately vanished with a kiss to the shell of her ear.
Her pulse wavered, caught between excitement and extreme relaxation as she felt Shelby straighten again, her hands moving down Santana's left arm, working slowly until she was massaging her palm and fingers one at a time. She gave the same attention to Santana's right arm and returned to her back, but Santana felt her fingers creeping down her sides as they moved, first to tease the ticklish spot on her waist and then to caress the sides of her breasts.
She felt Shelby mold herself to her back again and lips traveled along her jaw, stopping at the corner of her mouth. Santana turned slightly and puckered her lips, satisfied with how quickly she was kissed. She relaxed her pout and tasted their wine as the tip of Shelby's tongue connected with hers.
Santana was torn between wanting to fall asleep and wanting to flip over and pin Shelby to ravish her. Shelby was resting heavily against her, though, and exerting that much energy just did not seem favorable. Instead she moaned just enough to convey her gratitude and dropped her cheek back to the blanket, breaking their kiss. Shelby continued it, though. It traveled down her neck, first to the left shoulder, then the right. Her arms were lifted and moved to lie comfortably above her head as Santana felt her shift lower, kisses trailing down the center of her back as hands grew less tentative and more suggestive, spending ample time at all her sensitive spots, but mostly along her hips. They slipped between Santana and the floor, the natural line of her body leaving just enough space. Fingertips traced the hollowed curves along her pelvis. They pulled just slightly and Santana pressed her chest down, lifting her hips as was requested. She felt Shelby change the angle of her hand, and then her touch trailed between Santana's legs as she pressed a kiss to the base of her spine.
Santana gasped, the direct contact flooding her senses. She resisted the urge to push her hips down into the touch and trap Shelby in place.
Shelby's hands moved back to her hips, pulling on the right just enough to encourage Santana to turn over. Shelby moved with her, still on her knees, straddling Santana's thighs. Santana kept her eyes closed – it had become her own little challenge, to completely give up her control or knowledge of what was to come next. She remembered there was a pillow somewhere within reach and she felt for it blindly, finding it after a few tries to pull it beneath her head.
She knew Shelby was still hovering over her; their legs had grazed when she stretched for the pillow. She experimented, bending her right knee slowly, feeling it trace along what she knew was Shelby's inner thigh until it found heat and she heard Shelby whimper. As soon as she found her, a hand was on her thigh pushing her leg back down.
Creak, pop, snap. This time the lotion was drizzled directly onto her stomach, and Santana gasped from the coldness. It lingered several seconds before warm hands moved through it, gliding along her abdomen, higher to her ribs, and higher still to her breasts. Her back arched slightly and the touch grew gentler, more teasing. She felt Shelby move and then the dancing red glow of the fire was no longer visible behind her eyelids. She could sense Shelby hovering above her and Santana wet her lips, hoping for a kiss that never came.
Instead, the kiss was delivered straight to her nipple, making Santana moan from the pleasant surprise. Shelby's soft hair fell against her chest, heightening the sensation even further as a tongue flickered and swirled against the sensitive flesh. She reached for Shelby and combed through her hair, letting it slip through her fingers as Shelby moved lower to kiss her stomach, muscles quivering from anticipation. Her tongue circled her navel and Santana felt hands on her thighs, easing them apart slowly.
She could sense Shelby moving back, could feel the familiarity that was her body lying between Santana's legs. Santana bent her right knee and felt it guided over Shelby's shoulder.
Santana held her breath. There was no telling how long Shelby would keep her waiting. She didn't mind waiting hours if she had to. As turned on as she was, she still never wanted this amazing moment to end. Shelby's hands were traveling her body slowly, one gliding along her thigh, the other up her stomach until it grazed the underside of a breast. It made Santana unconsciously slide herself lower, closer, and she felt Shelby's hand find hers as gentle lips pressed a kiss against the source of her desire.
Santana gripped her hand, doing all she could to remain in control of herself and completely out of control of the situation. She focused on her breathing, but then Shelby's tongue was trailing so painfully slowly along her that she allowed herself a moan of encouragement. It had the desired effect as she heard Shelby's quiet moan in response as she used more pressure and gradually quickened her pace, just enough to truly ignite Santana and hold her at the edge for as long as Shelby wanted.
By the feel of it, Santana realized, Shelby wasn't planning on ending it any time soon. She felt as though she was being turned inside out, but so slowly she could barely discern its progress. Shelby was back to teasing her, now that she had her teetering, and Santana groaned when she felt her tongue slip inside briefly. Shelby moaned, too, and Santana knew its tone – she was proud of the effect she was having on her. Santana didn't care. She should be proud. The things Shelby could make her feel should be illegal, and probably were in some parts of the world.
It was a pattern, Santana had determined. Fingernails would drag down her stomach, tongue would slip inside, shoulder would press her thigh back slightly, tongue would glide higher, lips would suckle. It continued until Santana had broken into a sweat, made that much hotter by the nearby fire. She could feel Shelby's back growing slick as well, her heel sliding against her more easily each time her knee was pressed back. She was panting, and writhing, and almost crying when the pattern finally broke, the suckling not ceasing this time.
Santana wanted to thank her but instead all she could do was moan and wait for it. It was so close, hovering just out of reach for what felt like an eternity, and she could feel it building ever more quickly as Shelby pushed the back of her thigh hard, her knee to her chest as she felt nothing but lips and tongue and the easy pressure of the fingers that slid into place deep inside her. It was all perfect and she found her release, body rolling with the pleasure that flowed from her head to her toes, all of it pulsating at her core.
Shelby was moaning, too, that same prideful one as earlier. Santana would be thanking her as soon as she could see straight again – she certainly deserved it. She finally reached for Shelby, tugging her hair gently to get her attention.
"Kiss me," Santana breathed, just beginning to calm.
Shelby was in her arms in a heartbeat and they locked themselves in a kiss that was wet and passionate and full of lust. Santana wedged her hand between them to find Shelby with her fingertips, barely able to reach her. Shelby moaned, this time wanton and desperate. Santana forced her head to the side to break the kiss, and Shelby's mouth immediately connected with her neck.
"Tell me what you want," Santana gasped. "I'll do anything."
She felt teeth against her skin. "Anything?"
"What do you want?"
Shelby seemed to ease their aggressive outburst, and Santana wondered if she was deciding what she wanted or trying to work up the courage to ask for whatever it was.
Suddenly Shelby was off her and sitting on her knees. "Turn."
Santana moved to roll back over but Shelby caught her by the wrist.
"I meant rotate. So your head's by the couch."
Santana wasn't going to question it. Their walls were down and there was zero room for judgment now. She turned and slid backwards until the top of her head was nearly even with the base of the couch. "Like this?"
"Yeah," Shelby said as she crossed the new distance between them to straddle Santana's hips again. She started to lean down to kiss her, but paused. "Don't worry, it's nothing we haven't done before." She quirked a quick smile before pressing a hard kiss to Santana's lips and sitting back up, working herself higher as Santana figured it out. This was nothing kinky or risqué. This was just Shelby's favorite.
"Needed something to hold onto?" she surmised, referring to the couch, as she wrapped her arms under Shelby's thighs to hold her hips. Shelby was tantalizingly close and painfully out of reach.
"No headboard," Shelby confirmed as she slid her hips forward, bringing herself right to Santana's mouth.
Santana groaned at the sensation. Shelby was just as aroused as she had been, and she pressed her tongue against her, tasting every inch until she felt Shelby tilt her hips closer. She zeroed in on the spot that caused that motion and Shelby moaned, leaning forward to support herself on the couch. Santana gripped her more firmly, pulling her closer as she coaxed each moan and whimper and curse out of Shelby. She mimicked the way Shelby had suckled her sensitive flesh and it made Shelby moan her name and reach down and tangle her fingers in Santana's hair, pulling almost too hard. Santana flicked her tongue quickly in response and then Shelby was gone, her hips bucking and pushing against Santana as she moaned. It went on and on and Santana eased her through it, massaging her gently until she finally calmed, reduced to a panting, collapsed heap, her forehead on her crossed arms on the edge of the couch.
She finally opened her eyes, able to meet Santana's through her crossed arms, though upside down. They were surprisingly clear and focused for the ordeal she had just been through. "Again."
Santana groaned. Sometimes they turned each other on to the point of it being obscene. So rare was the freedom to indulge for so long that Santana had nearly forgotten what it was like.
"Whatever you want. Just turn around first."
"But I need to lean forward," Shelby said as she turned.
"So lean forward, genius," Santana said with a snide laugh as she pressed on Shelby's lower back and parted her own legs.
She turned her attention back to what was in front of her – literally – and found renewed enthusiasm in the slightly new angle. She found even more enthusiasm when Shelby's tongue found its way back between her legs, too. She gripped Shelby's thighs, supporting her as her focus started breaking down. Santana's focus was starting to falter, too, and she stopped herself from pitching her hips up by instead parting her legs further. She moaned and Shelby echoed it, control and focus fading fast until Santana had to replace her mouth with her hand. Shelby even didn't seem to notice.
Santana couldn't and didn't wait. It was quick and powerful, and a moment later Shelby followed.
After a few seconds, Shelby rolled off to the right, landing on her back, panting and sweating. Santana was a mirror image as they lay head to toe.
"Christ," Shelby finally said.
Santana managed a laugh and tried to sit up, abs screaming as though she had done two hundred crunches that day. She finally made it upright, sitting alongside Shelby's hip. "You done?"
Shelby looked up at her and smiled. "For the moment."
"You're going to kill me one of these days."
"What, your youthful heart can't keep up with me?"
Santana shook her head and leaned forward, wincing a little, to grab one of the wine glasses and take a long drink. "Dehydration."
Shelby laughed wholeheartedly and rolled onto her side to hug Santana's leg for a minute before kissing her knee and working herself up into a sitting position. "Cheers to that," she said, drinking from the other glass.
Santana rested her glass against the top of her thigh, letting her free hand travel along Shelby's leg, just to touch. "We're so good together."
Shelby sipped her wine again, finishing the glass. "I agree."
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we never happened? Where you would be? Who would be in your life?"
"Not really," Shelby said with a shrug. "I never would have ever allowed a student to come onto me the way you did that day. I figure if I let it happen so easily, it must have been meant to be. So, if it was meant to be, then there wouldn't be a possible alternative to consider."
Santana's heart swelled and she folded her legs so she could slide forward and kiss Shelby. "I love you so much," she said when they parted.
Shelby smiled and gave her one more little peck of a kiss. "I love you, too." A pause. "Why did you ask if I think about what it would be like without you? Do you think about us not being together?"
"No! No, of course not. I just meant I can't imagine my life being any different. I've tried to picture it, the alternative, and there's nothing there for me either."
Shelby set her empty glass aside and entwined her fingers with Santana's. "You had a plan, before we happened. You wanted to go off and become a star, and instead you got stuck in Lima."
"I'm not stuck in Lima. I stayed to be with you. You just started a new life there. One of us had to bend if we wanted to be together. I didn't have a job and a child; it had to be me. I did it willingly. I haven't regretted it." Santana knew Shelby was getting at something. Hopefully it was whatever had been on her mind earlier. Hopefully it wasn't something bad.
"You wanted to move to New York."
"Doesn't everyone want to move to New York? You even did it."
"I did. It was amazing. Tough for me as a teen on my own, but it was great while it lasted."
"I know Broadway was your dream, but can I be selfish for a second and be grateful it didn't work out and you eventually came back?" She pressed a kiss to Shelby's shoulder and turned to rest her cheek against it, savoring their closeness.
"What if it was still my dream? Our dream?"
Santana straightened, meeting Shelby's eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I have an audition."
To be continued...
