That Man 3 Read online

  THAT MAN 3

  NELLE L’AMOUR

  That Man 3

  Copyright © 2014 by Nelle L’Amour

  Nook Edition

  All rights reserved worldwide.

  First Edition: May 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.

  No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebook at the authorized online outlets.

  Nelle L’Amour thanks you for your understanding and support. To join my mailing list for new releases, please sign up here:

  http://eepurl.com/N3AXb

  Cover by Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs

  Proofreading by Karen Lawson

  Formatting by BB eBooks

  To everyone who has dared to do something out of their comfort zone. This book is for you.

  *

  And to my daughters, who I hope will make daring choices in their lives that will bring them closer to the truth of who they are.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Note from the Author

  Playlist

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Books by Nelle L’Amour

  Chapter 1

  Blake

  The shuttle from Friedman Memorial Airport in Hadley to the Sun Valley Lodge, where I was staying over the Christmas break, took fifteen minutes. Leaving my rollaway bag and skis with the valet, I headed inside to the check-in counter and took in my surroundings. The lobby of the venerable resort, built in 1936, was decked out for Christmas with a huge, almost ceiling high lit up tree and a roaring fire in the massive, holly-trimmed hearth. The place was bustling with guests milling around the lobby, hot drinks in their hands. Christmas music was playing over the speaker system. It was a winter wonderland.

  Fortunately, the check-in line was short, and I was able to handle my reservation quickly. As the jolly attendant handed me my key card, a warm breath tickled my neck and a familiar, seductive voice traveled through my ear.

  “Hi, Blakey.”

  I spun around. Fuck. It was Kirstie. Or was it Kristie? I could never tell those two apart. She was dressed in skinny faded jeans, a tight turtleneck sweater that clung to her D-cup boobs, and pink Uggs. Her platinum hair cascaded over her shoulders from beneath a matching pink ski hat.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here.” My voice wavered. Why wasn’t I excited to see her? She was as drop-dead gorgeous as ever and ready to be laid.

  She moved uncomfortably close, trapping me between the counter and her body. Her heavy floral scent was suffocating me. She smelled nothing of cherries and vanilla.

  She licked her billowy glossed lips. They looked bigger than the last time I saw them. “Yeah. My sister and I got in last night. Why don’t we get in some ski time together?”

  “Sure. Let me get settled into my room, and we’ll head to the slopes.” I immediately regretted what I said. I wanted to ski alone.

  “What room are you in?”

  I glanced down at my key card. “Room 606.”

  “Cool. Kirstie and I are right next door.” Well, at least, I now knew which one she was. However, the thought of having the Barbie doll twins a wall apart was unsettling. Too close for comfort.

  “Want me to help you check in?” she breathed, circling her big tits against my ski jacket. Her implants made her nipples so hard and erect I could feel them through the thick down-lined fabric. I squirmed as far away from her as I could.

  “I can handle it. I’ll meet you down here in a half hour, and we’ll head over to Baldy.” Baldy was my favorite place to ski with its elevation of over nine thousand feet and a myriad of blazing trails.

  “Perfect,” she purred.

  She sashayed away and I heaved a sigh of relief.

  *

  My suite consisted of a bedroom with an adjacent bathroom, a living room with a fireplace, and a kitchenette. It was decorated in what I’d call Alpine-themed Ralph Lauren. Mirroring the lobby, the décor was floral, with the king-sized bed, couch, and curtains all done up in a red and pine green leafy print. Wall-to-wall dark green carpet lined the floor.

  I listlessly unpacked my suitcase, putting the jeans and heavy sweaters I’d brought along into a set of drawers. The rest of my skiwear I hung up in the closet. I should have been excited about being in Sun Valley—I’d always had a great time here with all the fabulous activities the charming town offered, not the least being getting laid morning, noon and night, but instead I felt blue. I fucking missed Jennifer and wished she were here with me. All during my flight, I kept thinking about her. Hoping she was thinking about me. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since our gift exchange at the office yesterday. Carefully, I set the last item in my suitcase on top of my nightstand. The little snow globe she’d given me. I gave it a shake and watched the glittery snowflakes flutter over the golden ball that somehow reminded me of my grandma’s matzo balls. The memory of watching her eat one at my parents’ Shabbat dinner flashed into my head. I’d fantasized her sensuous mouth on one of my balls and had almost come in my pants. She’d given the expression “from soup to nuts” a whole new meaning. And then my mind jumped forward to the other night. The night of the office Christmas party—the night we fucked our brains out. It was the best sex I’d ever had. And I’d had a lot. But it was more than the sex. While I could have fucked her one more time, I could have held her in my arms forever. I thought the feeling was mutual. But it wasn’t. To my utter shock, she didn’t want me. She said she’d made a mistake. That I’d taken advantage of her in her vulnerable state. A rebound fuck after her jolting breakup with her fiancé, that two-timing dentist. Dickwick. Plus, she was afraid of having an office relationship. At least, that I could understand. If it didn’t work out and one of us was going to get fired—who was it going to be? Her or me, the big jefe’s son? You guessed right. With his dreams of having me head up his media empire, my father would never fire me from Conquest Broadcasting.

  But then I really fucked up. Big time. Desperate, I told her we could be casual fuck buddies. I honestly didn’t mean it, but she didn’t believe me. She got dressed and left me. Alone in my fuck pad with no one to fuck.

  Never having dealt with rejection, I was fucking devastated. And confused. Selfish, spoiled, alpha me was a player. I left girls and not vice versa. They wanted me and couldn’t get enough of me. But not Jennifer McCoy. I had suc­ceed­ed mag­nif­icent­ly and failed miserab­ly.

  Her reaction to the gift I’d given her—the erotic painting of a kiss by Jaime Zander’s late father that mirrored our own first, unforgettable kiss—had given me a little hope. She was overwhelmed. And not because it was such an ext
ravagant gift. My father always said actions speak louder than words. And he was right. The painting brought tears to her glimmering green eyes because it hit a nerve deep inside her. It made her feel something. The same thing I felt. The electricity in the air between us was so thick you could see sparks flying. It had taken all I had not to haul her into my arms, smother her with another all-consuming kiss, and fuck her senseless over my desk. And then just hold her in my arms.

  She was right—we needed time away from each other to figure things out. Or at least she did. With a weighty heart, I gave the snow globe another shake and made a wish. I wished my tiger would come to the same conclusion as me: we plain and simply belonged together. With a twitch, my hopeful cock toasted to that. But deep inside my soul, I knew a relationship was a remote possibility. I sucked at them. In fact, I’d never had one.

  Donning my ski gear, I clunked downstairs to the lobby in my heavy ski boots, my skis and poles under my arms. Kristie was already in the lobby. She was all dolled up in an expensive hot pink fur-trimmed ski jacket and matching ski pants. Furry earmuffs covered her ears, and she wore a thick layer of pink lipstick in the exact shade of her outfit. I didn’t want that lipstick anywhere near me, but she was all over me before I could say, “fuck off.” I finally managed to pull my lips away from hers without creating a scene. I thought about stopping at the concierge and asking for an antiseptic wipe on my way out. The thought of having to share a chairlift with her was repulsive.

  *

  We took the shuttle and got to Baldy in no time. There was a long line for the lift. While we waited for a chair, my bubbly companion babbled on non-stop about all the fun she and her twin sister had had so far from ice skating to skinny dipping in the heated pool. She boasted how everyone recognized them from their print ads and commercials. For sure, a movie offer would be coming soon. I half-listened, interjecting an occasional “wow” or “cool.” My mind was elsewhere. Focused on someone else. My tiger. She was roaring in my head.

  I was actually glad there was a wait for the lift because I dreaded getting on it with bubblehead. She had no control over her sexual appetite nor did her sister. Up until now, I couldn’t get enough of the titillating twins alone or together—they were perfect hook-up material—but something inside me had changed. Let’s cut to the chase. Some sweet little Midwestern girl with a dimpled smile had shown me there was something more. There was a connection between my cock and my heart. And she was in my bloodstream bringing them together. Making me feel emotions and sensations I’d never felt with anyone.

  After twenty long, cold minutes, we finally got a chairlift meant for two. The temperature had dropped significantly, and the sky had turned an angry shade of gray. It looked like it was going to snow. I followed Kristie into the lift and sat as far away from her as I could. That didn’t last long. After I lowered the safety bar and hung up our skis, she scooched across the seat until she was almost sitting on my lap. I jumped when her hand reached for my fly and pulled it down. Peeling off her gloves, she reached under my briefs and grabbed my dick.

  “Fuck off, Kristie!” I forcefully yanked her hand off and zipped up my fly.

  She looked miffed. “What bug do you have up your ass?”

  “I’m just not in the mood.” My voice was as bitter cold as the air.

  “Fine.” She stabbed the word at me and scooted away.

  Relieved, I took in the spectacular view of the snow-covered mountains and trees through my goggles as our chair made its ascent. And wished I could share it with Jen.

  When we reached the top of the trail, Kristie jumped off the lift. “Fuck you, Blake. Ski by yourself.” She zoomed off.

  For the first time since I’d gotten here, I smiled.

  *

  Usually I zipped down the advanced Black Diamond trail, expertly maneuvering its sharp twists and turns, but today I took my time zigzagging on my skis through the powder-perfect snow. The skier’s high I usually got was not possible with Jennifer on my mind. I longed to be with her on the bunny slope. Teaching her how to ski… holding her as she awkwardly snow ploughed down the little hill… hearing her little gasps and then scream when she lost control… and helping her back on her feet when she tumbled onto the white powder. My heart ached to have her in my arms, feel her warm lips on mine, and indulge in all the après-ski activities made for lovers—from sitting in a hot Jacuzzi under the stars to sharing a blanket on a horse and carriage ride through town.

  The biting wind whipped across my face as I made my way downward. About a quarter way down the slope, it began to snow, and by the time I was halfway down, the flurries had morphed into a blinding blizzard. Distracted, it took all I had to focus and circumvent the obscured trees and other obstacles along the way. I was relieved to reach the bottom. While many avid skiers were going back up despite the storm, I’d had enough. Removing my skis, I caught the next shuttle to the hotel.

  It was three o’clock when I got back to the lodge. Leaving my skis in storage, I headed to my suite, where I disrobed and took a hot bath after calling room service. Not having much of an appetite, I ordered a hot toddy to soothe away the mental pain that was coursing through my veins.

  Soaking in the large steamy tub, I stretched my legs out and studied my dick. It was limp. I swear Mr. Burns was wearing a sad face. He’d never been in this state before. Desperate, yes; despondent, no. Wanking off was not going to solve the problem.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to figure out how to get you back with Jennifer.” Fuck. What was wrong with me? I was talking to my dick. It stirred as if it had heard me. Stepping out of the tub, I towel dried my pal gently. The poor guy. He hung low and lifeless.

  “Call her,” I heard Mr. Burns whimper in my head.

  “I can’t,” I said aloud. I’d promised her I wouldn’t. Unless it was a business-related emergency. Nonetheless, I had the burning urge to break my promise. To hear her sweet voice. To tell her I missed her. Terribly. I’d never missed a woman before. This was a whole new feeling for me. It was as if I’d had been kicked in the balls.

  No, I couldn’t call her. It would be a mistake. We needed time apart to figure things out. Except I’d already done that. I wanted her to be mine.

  With an empty heart, I shrugged on the fluffy terry cloth robe that came with the room. By the time I knotted the belt, I had a change of mind. Fuck it. I was going to call her. I needed to hear her voice. I needed to tell her something important.

  I dashed back into the bedroom to get my cell phone. I thought I’d left it on my night table, but it wasn’t there. Balls. Where the hell had I put it? I frantically searched everywhere—tearing the room apart. I also checked the pockets of everything I’d worn. Nada. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Where was it? Finally, I spotted it—under the bed. It must have fallen out of my ski pants when I took them off. As I bent down to retrieve it, a loud knock sounded at the door. Room service. I ran to the door and opened it.

  “Room service.”

  I gaped.

  “My sister told me you were here.”

  Christ. It was the other twin—Kirstie, dressed in a long fur coat that must have cost a fortune and mile-high black leather stiletto boots.

  “I hope you like your pussy moist and raw.” With a flutter of her false eyelashes, she flung open her coat, exposing her bare body—tit, stock, and barrel. In a breath, she was all over me, gnawing and grappling every ounce of flesh she could find.

  I found my voice and shoved her away. “Kirstie, get the fuck out of here.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” she growled. She was as clueless as her bimbo sister but more aggressive, not letting my words get in the way. She fisted my hair and bit down on my lips. I pushed her away again, knocking her flat against the wall.

  While she stood there fuming, I knew what I had to do. I hurried to the room phone and dialed the concierge.

  “I’m the one who should be calling security,” hissed the presumptuous twin.

  Not responding to her, I told
the concierge to book me the next flight to Boise.

  “We’re sorry, Mr. Burns. The airport is closed due to the storm. There won’t be any flights available until tomorrow.”

  Fuck. I couldn’t wait that long. “Then get me a rental car right away.”

  Good news. There was one available. I slammed the receiver back on the cradle and then frantically gathered up all my belongings, including my cell phone. I threw everything into my suitcase. Before closing it, I yanked out my jeans, a tee, and a heavy Nordic sweater plus a pair of after-ski boots. And a hat.

  Five minutes later, I was dressed and almost out the door. “You can have the room; it’ll be good for you not to share something with your sister,” I told the dumbstruck blonde. She stood wide-mouthed against the wall, watching me as I split.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was heading south on Highway 75, driving through a bitch of a blizzard in the four-wheel drive Jeep I’d rented. With the inclement weather conditions, the concierge had told me the 150-mile trip would take close to four hours. Maybe more because I made one stop in Ketchum to pick up a few things. Thank you, Jesus. The stores were open late on Christmas Eve to accommodate last minute shoppers. God bless American consumerism.

  I’d done a lot of crazy things in my life, but this was by far the craziest. Despite being tethered with chains, the SUV inched along the icy road, sliding and spinning out of control. My hands gripped the steering wheel like iron clamps while every muscle in my body clenched. To make things worse, the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the rapidly falling mega flakes of snow. It was impossible to see ahead or behind me. It was all one big white blur. Only one thing was clear: I was risking my life. But Jennifer McCoy, my little tiger, was worth it.

  Chapter 2

  Jennifer

  It felt good to be home. Our neighborhood in the North End section of Boise hadn’t changed a bit. The people who lived there and the homes they lived in were straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Middle America at its finest. So different from hectic, multi-ethnic Los Angeles.