Ch 8 - Apres Ski

Teresa slept a semi sleep, because her distraught state of mind wouldn't be calmed even by a sleeping pill. She would feel her heart beat fast and lieon her back to alleviate the pressure but still failed to fully awake.

When her mind showed her Tony, somehow she knew that he was safe, and she was able to breathe. He was with James! If he was with James, then he must be safe!

She would toss and turn more and then Pote's deep voice would accost her and make her heart palpitate again: "It's courage!" the voice would say. And she wondered what he meant.

She strained her senses to remember until the conversation finally swam back to her mind: "Building this business with decency, it's never been done! They see a soft heart and they think weakness!...I think it's courage!"

Pote! He had stood by her for years. He had killed alongside her just a few months ago to ensure James got out of prison and the family was protected. He was her best, most trusted, loyal friend and his fervent opposition to her present dilemma with helping Marcel financially, was putting an edge between them...and it was killing her.

She had thought Pote had never understood her desire to do business in a less violent way. He had been ready to die for her because he was a blindly loyal man, but as his words "You will have to change to become the person you're supposed to be!" kept circling in her head, she slowly realized he had actually known that her ideas, the ones that James had embraced, would not work, and would only hurt her.

At that moment Teresa knew she was fully awake and that she had pinpointed the source of her internal distress. It was not Marcel's troubles; it was not Tony's recklessness, which had still scared her to death; it was not Kelly Anne's prudence in suggesting the split of the businesses; rather it was the disagreement with Pote.


Teresa got up and quietly opened the bedroom door.

Were James and Tony back? The chalet seemed awfully quiet. Then the reflection of the flames burning in the fireplace downstairs hit her and she heard the faint noise from the TV. They are back! James must be downstairs! And she tiptoed down the stairs in her bare feet feeling anxious and impatient to see him.

He was sitting on the couch, sipping whisky, watching the cracking fire, the TV was on but was almost muted. All the lights were out, and she knew that when he sat like that, he was in need of recharging.

He sensed her coming down as he half turned to her stretching his arm out. She took it and sat on his lap. Then took his glass from his hand with the intention of taking a sip, but she realized she needed the burn, so she drank it all. James just pulled the bottle up, which he had left at the foot of the couch, and refilled it. Then he switched the TV off and held her tight for a minute.

The flames from fireplace kept licking their silhouettes in the semi darkness as he started massaging her neck and finally said: "You're so tense…just relax!"

"Is he asleep?", she whispered.

"Yes…the shoulder was adjusted…they gave him sleep medication…his German buddy is also fine!" James also caught himself whispering. He consciously skipped the avalanche for now. Let her think they just lost their way skiing.

"Thank God! I was so terrified!" she almost gave in to a shiver.

A minute later she whispered: "Touch me more!", her head bent over his, her lips grazing his hair.

His hand caressed her back and moved to her front: "Talk to me!...It will relax you!"

She took some time until she finally said: "If my actions…end up betraying the family…"

His hand moved to her lower back again, he hadn't expected her to be thinking of Marcel and his issues now: "You won't…You're not capable… You're just fumbling…"

Her voice didn't sound stable: "Ayuda me …en mi camino! (help me…with my decision)

"Lo hare (I will)", he whispered back.

'And …you'll still love me if I do the wrong thing…", her words sounded full of pain.

James wanted anything but her getting emotional: "You know I will...and I won't let you do the wrong thing…Now have some more", and he put the glass in her hand and watched her drink.

As she smacked her lips, he took the glass and downed it. Then said gently: "The defaulted VC is based in London, a two hour flight…How about I go to London to see what I can dig up?"

"Alone?" she said.

"No…I will take Chicho with me as he knows the man…and all the developments…maybe Marcel will decide to join in too!" James had been making plans on how to proceed. He didn't know whom to side with, Teresa or Pote, because he had no information to quantify the risk.

"You have no gun!" Teresa said.

"I can get a gun there, but I'm not eager to jinx things…as I may not need one!", his hand kept making circles on her lower back and he noticed her shoulders had relaxed a bit. So, he kept talking: "I did a job in London once…for Finch…I was there two weeks plus…I know the city…It's a huge city…but we'll manage...If the asshole is there, or has left traces, we'll find them!"

She murmured a 'thank you' as her hands moved her hair to her back and she pushed her face in his neck and started kissing and sucking softly. Her bum on his lap had been too soft and too warm for some time now, so he gently lifted her and in one fluid movement laid her down on the huge animal fur in front of the fireplace.

"Kelly Anne and Suzie can come back any minute", she mumbled right before his mouth touched hers.

"No, they won't…their movie just started 20 min ago; she texted me!" he said, and his mouth closed on hers as her arms enveloped him tightly.

He kissed her long and hard and then lifted himself up and looked in her big eyes in the semi darkness, just the reflections of the flames coming from the fireplace and playing on her skin. He caressed the side of her chin with the back of his fingers as she took a deep breath and pushed herself to relax at the soft gentle brush.

The serenity and the beauty of the moment were helping. The tension was leaving her body, making her feel drained, but still full of pleasant anticipation.

James's mouth slid down her neck as he pulled her nightie down her body, and she shivered at the mere touch of him. "Do you know what 'apres ski' is?'", he mumbled.

"No", she breathed out.

"I didn't either…but now I realize it's worth the efforts in the cold", he chuckled as he remembered Kelly Anne's smirky face telling him what 'apers ski' was. "It's undoubtedly the best part of going skiing...imagine a snowy resort…a hot fireplace…a dark night…a full glass of whiskey…and the person you love to share it with."

Teresa smiled in the dark and her hands ruffled his hair: "Show me then!"

She took his hand and slid it between her legs.

"What do you want me to do?" he whispered.

She half moaned; half whispered: "I want you to do me like…there's no tomorrow."

He moved his body up and his mouth took hers in a deep kiss as his fingers kept caressing her inner thighs. The moan that escaped her throat again was heartfelt because her brain knew what such intensity of the kiss foreshadowed. Her mind and body were conditioned to crave him, to accept him, to let go of any distracting thoughts and to go with the flow of him. He was like opium for her, and she inhaled it with heart wide open.

A minute later as she moved her hips to meet his trysts, she could feel her blood run hotter and her mind spin. She heard herself saying "Harder, James, harder!". When the climax overtook her, it made her body shake all over and prevented her from holding back the tears that slid down her sides.

She lay next to him, legs only intertwined with his, feeling replete and relaxed. Then she turned her head up and looked at his satisfied face. He smiled at her: "Feeling better?"

She smiled back and nodded. "You know…this was very…ahh…exotic…Who told you about apres ski?"

He chuckled: "Who do you think? Who has skied in the Colorado mountains as a teen… with or without parental supervision?"

"A-ha!" Teresa exclaimed. "Did she suggest I needed some…apres-ski?"

"Yep…she reads you very well!" James said.

Teresa fell silent for a few seconds, then said: "I have been thinking that …ahh…I want us to have a boat!"

"Oh…Are boats exotic?" He was reading her mind.

"They can be!", she smiled and kissed his shoulder. "Seriously James! … I want you to buy us a boat...a yacht to be more precise, so that we can sail...just the two of us ...in the horizon...and you can sail the boat…I'm sure you'll figure out how to do that, right?"

"Sure', he laughed softly.

"I mean …you can pilot anything...and then when we hit the open sea...it will be just you and I!" she exhaled deeply.

"And what are we going to do …in the open sea, Teresa?" he said slowly holding a smirk.

"Things…you know", she looked down: "And if you don't know… I'll come up with some!" she returned the smirk with a kiss.

James needed a refill, so he untangled her legs and arms from him carefully and asked: "Do you want a glass?"

"No, I'll drink from yours…", her voice was low and seductive.

"They say if you drink from someone's glass…you'll know all their secrets!" he teased her as he sat up and refilled the glass.

"I'm sure you aren't afraid…of me knowing yours…or the other way around!" she said and put out her hand so that he gave her the refilled glass.

"Why the tears…at the end?" His question took her by surprise.

She had no answer and shrugged. He was looking at her intently: " So that you know…crying does not mean you're weak. It means you have a heart!"

"How did you know I could pilot a yacht if we bought one?... Or did you just assume?" he said softly.

"I assumed…you must know...you can drive anything!" she repeated and smiled.

"I'm not that young…and eager to explore new things all the time…", he teased her again. "I'll be 50 in a year and a half, love…that's a serious milestone!"

She chuckled: "Hmm...What are you telling me...that things will change?"

"I didn't say that…but one never knows". She looked at him and her hand touched his chest, then glided over his shoulders, smooth and pumped from exercises. He had always been hot, but to her he didn't seem to change with time.

"Stop it, James!" she said. "Age doesn't matter...I'll always love you the same…I find that men are like wine, you know?"

" How so?" He liked the comment because he sensed he knew the answer.

"Well…the older they get, the smoother they become…more skillful, more understanding…", her seductive voice was silenced by him pushing her back on the fur and biting her lower lip.