Can I Tell You Something? (Snowbound Secrets, #1)

by Holly June Smith

I find Cameron stretched out on the chaise with a book in his hand, looking criminally hot in dark sweatpants and a white fitted t-shirt. Nobody else ever sits in my favourite spot, and it’s jarring to see him looking so at home there.

“You comfy there?” What I really want to say is ‘Can I come and sit in your lap and kiss your face and feel you get hard underneath me?’ but I’m not completely out of my mind.

Is this how it’s going to be? Me acting like a sex-crazed maniac every time I look at him? It’s impossible to play it cool.

Can I tell you something?

BOOK TITLE MENTION

His whispers make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, goosebumps breaking out everywhere, knowing he’s about to let me into a secret. Sure, me and every other listener, but right now I’m deluded enough to believe these words are just for me.

Obviously, I listened to the rest of the audio. Then again when I woke up around five and couldn’t fall back asleep. Not only did I listen to him get himself off, but I listened as he described, in exquisite detail, all the things he’d like to do to his holiday housemate. The housemate who happens to be me.

He didn’t use my name, and for all his listeners know, the scenario was entirely fictional, but I know. I knew when he described the chaise, the view, his arrival. I knew when he described my braids, and how much he wanted to wrap them around his fists as he pulled me down onto his cock. And honestly? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?

Cameron, Mac’n’Please, knows who I am, knows I listen to his work, knows I’m attracted to him, and apparently he wants me, too. He’s laying his cards on the table, in the way he communicates best, but something feels off. I know so much about him, and all he knows about me is I’m his best friend’s sister, I’m a lawyer, and I know how to ski. None of that is enticing, which makes me wonder if he’s just using the idea of me for content. That definitely doesn’t do it for me.

Ordinarily the thought of anyone getting themselves off here would have me throwing up then reaching for a heavy duty upholstery cleaner, but knowing Cameron was here yesterday afternoon, alone and horny and thinking of me, is making me feral.

“Why are you being weird?” Ryan interrupts our stand-off, tearing off a hunk of baguette and smothering it with jam. “We all know it was probably Taylor Swift.” “Hey,” Cameron snaps at him. “Watch your mouth, bro. Nothing wrong with a bit of Taylor.”

I learned fast that if I don’t ask Hannah a question on the chairlift, she’ll stay quiet the entire time. It’s not that I think she’s a shy person, I think she just forces herself to keep her mouth shut around me.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she laughs, wiggling her hips as she gets comfy in the chair. “One does not simply have a favourite Taylor Swift song. It changes day by day and mood by mood.”

Me

“Do you have a favourite audio of mine?” Oops. There goes my resistance. “What did you say?” “What else do you listen to?” I try not to smirk, but pretty sure she narrows her eyes at me from behind her goggles. I can practically hear her brain whirring as she thinks about how to respond. As much as it’s fun to play with her, I don’t want to push her even further away. Now seems as good a time as any to clear the air.

“I still can’t believe this is happening. I thought your name was Mac. I assumed it was short for MacKenzie or MacDonald or something.” “Mac is Cam spelled backwards,” I clarify. “Oh. So it is. But you’re not Mac. You’re a real person, and you’re here. In my chalet. I never thought you’d read those messages, far less turn up in my actual life. It’s awkward as fuck.” “I don’t think it’s awkward.”

“You don’t think it’s awkward that your friend’s little sister listens to your audio porn and then messages you to tell you how hard she came? And now you’re stuck on holiday with her, sleeping on the other side of her bedroom wall for two weeks?”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a beautiful woman who enjoys taking some time to prioritise her own pleasure. My work is literally created for that purpose. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She’s so fucking beautiful. The way she blushes, the way her teeth catch her lip, the way she inhales slowly, gathering her thoughts, holding something back. Not for the first time, I wonder what she’d be like if she was completely uninhibited, completely herself.

Could I get her to bite her lip that way while holding back a moan? Could I get her to beg for what she wants? I’d s...

I want to kiss her. I could kiss her, right here, but there’s every chance she’d push me over the edge of the slope and I’d never be seen again. Or she wouldn’t push me, but I’d embarrass her more, and she’d retreat even further. Neither option is good. I have ...

Most of my friends’ parents have been through messy divorces, and I’ve seen plenty of shitstorms go down at work. I’m no expert at relationships, but there’s comfort in knowing my parents are still happily in love after so many years together. I can only hope I find a love like theirs one day.

He’s so relaxed about the whole thing that it makes me think I could tell him. I could tell him I love his audio about co-workers trapped in the back room of a bookstore overnight. I could tell him that the way he takes control in Summer Nights altered my brain chemistry. That his Good Grades series lives in my brain rent free.

It’s uncontrollable, this urge to fantasise about him. I mean, I was already doing that before I even flew out here, now that he’s around all the time it’s impossible to stop.

He finishes dealing, sits back and sips his beer, but when our eyes lock I get the feeling he’s holding back from saying something too.

Part of me is grateful I don’t have to watch what I say in front of my brother anymore. The other part is terrified that without his buffer, I might start saying things I regret and never stop talking.

Ryan’s made no secret of his feelings for Kayla, and the same goes for her. When they reunite on the mountain, it’s like watching a fireworks display. Explosive, magnificent, and then over with only a trail of smoke left behind.

Hints for a Ryan novella?

He once told me they don't check in during the off-season, and I have to wonder what’s going to happen the year he turns up and finds her committed to someone else.

The material………

“What would you prefer I call you?” He leans in closer, the bass of the music, the chatter of the crowd all blending into one as he whispers inches from my face. “Baby? Darling? Good girl? Greedy little slut?”

“More to the point, I wouldn’t let a beautiful woman make her way home from a bar alone on a cold, dark mountain. If you get eaten by a bear, I’d never be able to live with myself.” “There are no bears here.” “Maybe someone else will eat you.”

Heat spreads through my belly, pooling low and deep in my core. I don’t know whether it’s my dirty mind, scrambled by hours spent listening to him talk about how much he likes to go down on a woman, or if he’s really being this direct with me.

He helps me into my coat, his firm hands squeezing my shoulders and stroking down my arms. I feel his touch everywhere. A spa...

“Cameron,” I put my hand on his arm and he stops. “You’re rambling. Are you OK?” “Why am I so nervous?” he laughs. “Oh yeah, because I’m about to throw myself down a dark mountain on a piece of plastic that barely takes one ass cheek, that’s why.”

She brings her hands up to my face and neck, her fingers digging out where snow has packed inside my collar. It’s ice cold, but all I feel is warmth looking up at her like this.

I wrap my hand around her wrist and hold it there by my throat, wishing we weren’t wearing gloves. Too many layers between us.

Even in the darkness, hidden underneath the low branches, I can make out the fullness of her lips...

I’m throwing myself down a goddamn mountain for this woman, but the way she’s looked after me the past couple of days, I couldn’t feel safer. She’s got me breaking my rules, and I can’t seem to stop myself.

“I really want to kiss you, Hannah. Been wanting to do it since I first laid eyes on you.”

Cameron is all man, pure sexual magnetism. Those gorgeous curls, that beautiful smile that literally makes me feel like my underwear is disintegrating. Even if I didn’t know about him from his Mac’n’Please audios, it’s impossible not to look at him and feel turned on.

Plus, there’s the small matter of him being friends with my brother, and the fact he lives on the other side of the world. Am I supposed to kiss him goodbye and pretend nothing ever happened between us? That kiss was unlike any I’ve had in my life, and it’s hard to believe it could be better with anyone else.

“How long has it been for you?” he asks. “Um, a year. Maybe more.” He huffs out a heavy sigh. “That makes me so fucking mad. And also happy.” “What?” “Happy that nobody else is touching you. Mad because your body is gorgeous. It deserves to be touched and worshipped and adored.”

Even if he’s not touching me, I’m tuned into his presence. Those soft waves springing back after a morning underneath his helmet, the furrow of his brow when he looks my way from behind his sunglasses. The fullness of his lower lip, the back of his neck, tan from our days beneath mountain sunshine.

He kept up with me all morning as we worked our way down a few of the easier red runs, but, always cautious my brother could appear out of nowhere, I couldn’t bring myself to do more than sneak a few quick kisses.

The tension between us is thrumming, so electric I could pick him out in a ...

I was obsessed before I even met him. Now that I know he kisses like this, it’s terrifying. I could lose myself in him.

There’s so much to say, but somehow we don’t need to, even if we could. Two years of aural foreplay have led to this moment, and I know now I’ll never be the same.

Waking up alone feels wrong. All I can think about is Hannah’s warm body, in her warm bed. That’s where I’m meant to be. Tucked in behind her where I can smell her shampoo and play with the waistband of her shorts.

“Anyone for sauna?” Hannah suggests after a while. “Sure, let’s go,” Ryan says. No, not you, man. Fuck off for five minutes.

I don’t know if it’s her, or the overdose of festive cheer, or our warm breath hanging in the cold air between us, but this feels like a moment.

I should be able to hold her hand whenever I like, stroke her cheek and tell her what she’s doing to me. I should be able to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder, hold her close to my chest, and rest my chin on the top of her head while she watches the parade.

I’m struck with a vision of my future. My shoes, her shoes, and a bunch of little ones, all in a row.

Christmas day passes like treacle. Chocolate from my shoe for breakfast. Elf on the TV. Leftovers. A dip in the hot tub. A nap on the sofa. And Cameron.