They spent most of the rest of the afternoon skiing together and then Bryan convinced her to join him at the top of the mountain for the last run of the day down a blue trail. Callie initially declined, but she really did want to see the view from the summit and knew she would enjoy the challenge of skiing a more difficult course. As they rode the ski lift to the top, Callie looked out on the breathtaking view of the valley below. Even in Vermont, she’d not seen mountains this imposing; they seemed unreal, magical. Unlike the lifts back east, these lifts were enclosed to protect the rider against the biting cold, and their sliding doors made them resemble tiny subway cars.
It was so cold at the top of the mountain that Callie was thankful that she had worn her heavy duty gloves and hat. Callie skied the blue trail with very few mishaps; though there was one bad moment when she planted her pole and her hand sank wrist-deep into the snow. She regained her composure very quickly and aside for some balance checks and skidding, her performance was not nearly as bad as she feared. Through it all, however, she looked forward to a long soak in the hot tub that evening.
Callie paused in the doorway of the penthouse suite and nervously smoothed the sleek bottle-green silk jersey dress down over her hips. It was New Year’s Eve and she was looking forward to a romantic evening with Bryan at the resort’s party. Storm Crow was playing during the early part of the evening, so she had to enter the party alone.
Though she was nervous about attending yet another party with still more strangers, she thrilled with the anticipation of seeing the look on Bryan’s face when he saw her in this dress. She had purchased it several months previously on a rare shopping excursion with Tonya to Birmingham. The dress had hung like a rag on the hanger, and initially she hadn’t understood Tonya’s enchantment with it. But once she tried it on and realized that it caressed the curves of her body like a lover, she appreciated her friend’s enthusiasm. With no inkling as to where she would wear such a garment, she’d purchased it. It couldn’t have been more perfect for this occasion. She hoped to leave an indelible imprint in Bryan’s memory for the long months of separation that lay ahead.
According to Bryan, most of those in attendance would be the movers and shakers behind the music industry, producers and studio executives. B.T. apparently wanted them to know that Storm Crow was in good shape despite their recent troubles. Before Brodie’s death, B.T. had been poised to negotiate a new deal for Storm Crow and thought they’d had a good chance of getting the money and other perks they demanded. Of course, the other executives had begun circling around the moment they thought there was a possibility of snagging the band for their own stable. B.T. knew their record company would hear about the interest the other executives were showing and would quickly come to the bargaining table. He was certain that with a good showing here, they’d be back on track to making a good deal.
Bryan had teased her that given her background and financial acumen, she would probably feel more comfortable with this crowd than he did. An avid reader of business magazines and journals, she recognized a few of the men as giants in the entertainment industry. As she looked around the room, she quickly realized that there were also movie and television executives present. She wondered what B.T. was up to. Bryan had told her that B.T. wanted him to do commercials and movies, but he’d declined. Clearly, that old boy wasn’t taking no for an answer.
As she continued to study the guests, Callie realized that this was indeed a party for the industry’s power brokers. Most were older, overweight, and balding, but had the requisite nubile young things on their arms. Regardless of whether they were music executives or talent, it seemed everyone in this business went for the stationary synthetic breasts and bleached hair. It quickly became apparent that she would be the only black woman present. There were a few black men in attendance, but they too had queued up for the Barbie parade. It would be enough to give a black woman with her own unaltered breasts an inferiority complex if she hadn’t seen the way Bryan’s eyes lit up each time he saw her.
She let her thoughts drift back to the previous evening when, almost numb with exhaustion and truly aching in places she didn’t know she had, she’d joined Bryan in their private outdoor hot tub. Each chalet had a small patio with an eating area and a Jacuzzi. The patio was open on one side only, and the top was open to the sky. The layout granted a limited amount of privacy without detracting from the view. She couldn’t wait to tell Tonya about the indescribable decadence of sitting outside in a Jacuzzi in the snow. Warm to her bones, she had leaned her head back against the rim of the tub and let the snowflakes fall down onto her face like icy little kisses. By the time she’d indulged in a sinfully delicious hot apple pie cocktail, she was almost purring in contentment.
Gradually as some of their soreness eased, they’d moved their swimsuit-clad bodies closer to one another. Eventually Callie had positioned herself between Bryan’s legs and leaned her head back against his shoulder. He put his arms around her waist and as usual when they were in close proximity their hands started to wander and they began kissing. Soon they were far steamier than the hot tub. Though they desperately wanted to make love, they’d had to acknowledge that physically they simply were not up to the task. This was her last night in Whistler, however, and Callie had no doubt as to how the evening would end.
Tonight was the first time she’d seen the band in formal attire. She wondered what type of elfin magic Naysa had worked to get the band to wear tuxedoes. The stylist often lamented that she had no idea what they paid her for since they never took her advice. Callie gave Bryan a lingering look. In jeans the man was, as Tonya would say, a walking wet dream in a Prada tuxedo, he was simply devastating. The jacket hung off his broad shoulders and tapered to showcase his slim hips, and the tailored fit of the trousers left no doubt to his vibrant masculinity. He had left his hair loose, and had already unfastened his bow tie and the first few buttons on his shirt. The combination gave him a rakish look that was almost criminally sexy. Now as she stood waiting for him to notice her, she shivered with excitement at the thought of being in his arms again.
Bryan locked eyes with Callie from across the room. He’d been watching for her all evening, and could scarcely believe the vision she made standing there in the doorway. Her hair was pulled up into an elaborate upsweep, and the dress hugged every luscious inch of her body from her neck to her feet. He nodded his head toward her, appreciating the conservative lines of the dress, until she began to walk towards him, and he noted that it was slit almost to her hip on one side, emphasizing the long, sexy length of her legs.
Bryan had a momentary lapse and forgot he was performing as he watched her approach. He’d always known that Callie was a sensuous creature, but usually she muted that effect with low-key, modest attire. But tonight she seemed to be reveling in her femininity. Even her beautifully manicured feet looked erotic in strappy little silver high-heeled sandals. He could feel all the blood drain from his head and he stared in wonder as she moved sensuously toward him. Without breaking eye contact with him, she paused near the stage and with a languid gesture, reached over to pick up a champagne flute from a passing waiter and took a long sip from it. When she lowered the flute, Bryan watched, mesmerized, as she licked away the residue on her lips with a slow flick of her tongue.
Realizing that he had no idea what he was playing anyway, Bryan brought the set to a close. He never noticed that his bandmates were watching the suggestive little byplay between him and Callie with amusement. It was clear to them that Bryan was beyond sprung and didn’t care who knew it. Twist was appalled by Bryan’s behavior. Though he’d never admit it to anyone, Bryan was his hero, and he’d never thought he’d see the day when Bryan would totally lose it over a woman. Usually Bryan didn’t allow anyone to touch his guitar or his microphone, but he walked past both, leaving them for the roadies to remove. Twist shook his head, vowing that he would never fall for one woman. There were simply too many available to attach himself to just one.
Blissfully unaware that his friends had placed him firmly in the “whupped” category, Bryan moved quickly to Callie’s side. Now he could see that the dress was literally backless from her neck to the curve of her magnificent bottom. Bryan whistled to himself. No wonder every man present had gone on point when she entered the room. Despite the presence of all the silicone-enhanced bottle blondes, most of the men were craning their necks to check Callie out. Bryan moved in closer, making eye contact with several of the onlookers, sending the message that Callie was with him. They quickly looked away, tacitly understanding the unspoken hands-off signal.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a goddess in green?” he whispered into Callie’s ear.
“Goddess, Bryan? Don’t you think that’s laying it on a bit thick?”
He brushed his hips against her backside, ensuring that she felt his arousal. “No, that’s laying it on a bit thick.”
Callie rolled her eyes at the crude double entendre.
“I know a vision when I see one.”
As Bryan moved in closer, his hands automatically moved to her waist. “May I have this dance, sweet baby?”
With that, Callie moved into Bryan’s arms and they began to dance, their bodies swaying in accord to the jazz band that had replaced Storm Crow on the stage. They had never danced together before, and as always when she was in his arms, the room and everything in it ceased to exist for Callie. Bryan danced with the same elegant grace he lent to all his movements, and it seemed as though they were floating on air. She snuggled in closer, resting her chin in the curve of his neck.
Bryan stroked his hands up and down Callie’s bare back, thinking he’d never get enough of the feel of her skin under his hands. As she nuzzled closer, he enjoyed the sensation of her coily hair against his neck. Her light, womanly scent set his mind to wandering lasciviously. Smoothing his hands from her waist to her hips and back again, he luxuriated in the silky feel of the fabric against her even silkier skin. He made another pass over her hips, then paused with sudden realization. “Callie, what are you wearing under this thing?”
Callie gave a nervous little laugh, then whispered, “Chanel N
o 5.” At Bryan’s stunned expression, she continued, “I couldn’t wear anything else. The dress is too clingy, the lines would show.”
Bryan caught his breath as his body tautened with immediate arousal. He instantly grabbed her hand and began moving towards the door, but Callie dug in her heels and wouldn’t move.
Callie pouted, “It’s not midnight yet, Bryan. I want to be here for the balloon drop.” She pointed toward the vaulted ceiling of the penthouse, where nylon mesh held thousands of gold and silver balloons.
Bryan paused, eyeing her sexy pout with wry amusement. “You did this on purpose, you little tease. You knew the minute I saw you in that dress I wouldn’t be able to wait to get you out of it.”
“Come on Bryan, it’s only a few minutes until midnight. We’ve never danced together before,” Callie reasoned, batting her eyes at him flirtatiously.
With that, Bryan capitulated and they began dancing again. Callie’s dress was so thin that she could feel the movement of each muscle in his long torso and her body responded with with even greater excitement, a fact that was made evident by the bold display of her nipples through the thin silk. They moved closer to the glass wall of the penthouse, enjoying the view of the city lights below. When the clock finally struck midnight, Bryan pulled Callie to him for another mind-numbing kiss, leaving her so bemused that she didn’t even see the balloons dropping around her. This time when Bryan reached for her hand, she followed him eagerly.
* * *
When Callie and Bryan entered their chalet, she was surprised to find it lit by candlelight. Presumably the steward had returned to their rooms after she left, tidied up a bit, and left champagne, truffles and at least three dozen pink roses. Callie turned to look at Bryan, who only gave her a mischievous grin.
“Champagne?” he asked, moving towards the low console.
They slowly sipped the champagne, eyeing each other over the rims of the glasses. Bryan looked as if he wanted to devour her. Despite her longing to be consumed, the predatory look in his eye made her nervous.
Bryan seemed to sense her trepidation and moved behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist while he removed her champagne flute from her hand with the other. After setting down the glasses, he began to slowly kiss and then stroke her neck with his tongue. Gradually he smoothed his hands from her waist to her stomach and then up to caress her breasts. Her nipples puckered in his hands as he swirled them gently with his fingers.
Callie’s response was immediate and fierce. She pressed back harder into him until she felt his masculinity twitch against her buttocks. As she began to grind her luscious bottom into his hardness, she heard him gasp against her neck. The moisture pooling between her legs signaled her intense arousal, and she began moaning as her body greedily sought what it craved. Suddenly, it became too much, and Bryan took her hand to lead her into the bedroom. When he steered her over to the bed, Callie automatically moved to remove her shoes. Bryan halted her with a roguish shake of his head.
He slowly moved his hands across her shoulders, slipping the dress down to her waist. He fondled her bare breasts with their tiny, dark nipples. Then with a shimmy of her hips, Callie shed the dress and it lay at her feet in a pool of green silk. She stood proudly before him, wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto heels. Bryan slid his hand down from her breasts to her womanhood cloaked in a nest of curly black hair and slipped his fingers between her swollen lips, stroking her to a fever pitch. A low groan escaped his throat as he felt the wetness that streamed from her body. Her womanly scent, already nearly unbearable in its power to stimulate him, intensified with her arousal, and his nostrils flared as he sought to inhale as much of it as possible. He couldn’t wait; he had to taste her now. He laid her down on the bed and lifted one slim leg and ran his callused palm down to her foot. He began placing slow, drugging kisses along the arch of her foot, up to her calf and finally to the apex of her thighs.