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Garrett purchased some television ad space, a couple of roadside billboards in Tennessee and North Carolina, and print space in several travel magazines.
Garrett and Langford did an interview and had their photos taken at the resort yesterday, but today is all about the ski slopes.
Now that word is out that world-champion skier Zoey Phillips is working as an instructor at Misty Mountain, my brothers asked if she’d be willing to be a part of the marketing for the resort.
She was apprehensive at first.
With the charges filed against her former coach and the looming trial, she was afraid it could bring negative attention, but Langford assured her that he and Garrett didn’t give a damn what people thought about what had happened during the investigation into the charges leveled against Taut. They are proud to have her image represent the resort.
I stand and go in search of Zoey and coffee when I hear the water running.
I follow the sound to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I open the door and can barely make out her naked form through the steam. The sexy sound of her voice singing a Taylor Swift song greets me.
I pull the T-shirt over my head and drop the pajama pants to the floor as I make my way to join her.
The glass is foggy, but I can see her standing under the spray, washing her hair.
I open the door and slide in behind her. She lets out a yelp of surprise as I run my hands down her slick, soapy sides.
“You scared me,” she squeals as she relaxes against me.
“Sorry,” I whisper into her ear.
“I was getting worried you weren’t going to wake up and we would be late,” she says.
“You should have awakened me before you got out of bed,” I say.
She laughs. “Then, we definitely would have been late,” she says as she glances over her shoulder at me.
I kiss the base of her neck, and she moans.
“Don’t. We don’t have time.”
“I’m just here to share the shower and save time,” I promise her, even as my growing erection presses into her.
“Morris,” she gasps as her hand snakes around and strokes me.
I growl as I walk her to the back of the small shower and press her against the tiles.
She ducks under my arm and turns to face me. “I’m serious.”
“You started it, sweetheart,” I say as I fist my hand in her wet hair.
“You’re the one who raided my shower,” she points out.
“Right,” I say before I take her mouth with mine.
Her hands come to my shoulders, and she rises on her toes to meet my lips. Her breasts graze my chest, and I tear my mouth from hers to lick a trail down to one rosy bud and take it between my teeth.
She jumps in my arms as I bite down, and my tongue darts out to soothe the peak before I suck it into my mouth again. I give her other breast the same attention before she grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me up and back to a kiss.
I walk her backward out of the water spray and against the shower wall. She looks up at me, a teasing look in her eye as she bites my bottom lip. Then, she takes my cock into her hand and begins to slowly, torturously pump my flesh.
I plant my hands above her and lean my forehead against the cool tiles above her head.
She slides to her knees, and I have to brace myself as she wraps her lips around the head of my throbbing erection and leisurely sucks it into her mouth. Her eyes never leave mine as she takes me deeper.
Damn, this woman owns me.
