The bus slipped through the iron gates just as Maya spotted the sign, smug, white, bolted to stone.
CALLOWAY PEAK.
The road curved hard and then it was there. Like someone ripped a page out of Haute Monde and dropped it in the mountains.
Glass and pale stone cut low over the water. The lake so still, it didn't move. Mountains held the clouds down. Fire burned behind the glass in the main building, thin smoke vanishing into cold air. A climbing wall carved straight into rock.
"Okay," Elena said behind her, face pressed to the window. "How the fuck have I never heard of this place? My mother has a spreadsheet of every luxury retreat within five hundred miles."
"Guess she's losing her touch," Maya said.
"I'm adding it to my escape list."
"Your what?"
"Places to go when my family gets unbearable."
Maya turned. "You have a list."
"A long one."
"Of course you do." Maya laughed.
Maya glanced over. Jake's eyes were shut. His thumb traced slow circles on her knee.
"You asleep?"
"No," he murmured. "I'm dying."
"Then tell your hand that."
"Force of habit." He grinned without opening his eyes. "My brain's not in charge right now."
Elena snorted behind them. "You two are vile. I hate this for me."
Jake squeezed Maya's knee. "Wake me when we park. I need energy for Terrence to talk shit."
"Terrence?"
"Halstead wide receiver. Pain in my ass. You'll like him. He's annoying. And he never shuts up."
"Charming," Maya said. "Can't wait."
The bus hissed to a stop. Maya stayed seated a beat longer, watching the chaos unfold, bags swinging down from overhead bins, bodies pushing into the aisle. Riley's voice from the back: "If you leave your fucking protein powder again—" Outside the window, other buses pulled in behind them, different colors, different logos, same athletic confidence.
Maya stepped off into air that smelled like pine and woodsmoke and the cold bite of the lake. Cold enough to wake her up.
Elena appeared beside her, a matte-black Leica already up to her eye. "Documenting. For my escape-from-family vision board."
Maya stared at the water. "This is insane."
"I was going to say ridiculous, but insane works."
Maya laughed.
Jake's hand settled at the small of her back, steady through her jacket. "You good?"
"It's... it's just a lot."
"Yeah." He stood with her, looking at the lake. "Come on. Before Riley claims the best suite and I have to commit murder."
"You'd kill your best friend over a room."
"Yes. He knows the risks."
She let him tug her toward the main building, their shoes crunching on the gravel path. The doors parted with a soft hiss and the lobby's warmth hit her, heated stone floors, citrus scent, the low murmur of other arrivals.
Jake guided her to a row of black readers mounted on the wall like dark mirrors. People tapped their phones and kept walking. Maya did. Her phone buzzed.
Ridge House Seven. Lakeside.
She tapped it. The full schedule loaded.
Behind her, the football team had found the printed menus. They were using them as frisbees.
Riley appeared at her shoulder, menu in hand. "Bespoke," he read over her shoulder. "Like we know what that means."
"I know what it means," Elena said without looking up from the reader.
Riley looked at her. "Do you though."
Now she looked at him. "Yes."
Riley smirked.
Jake tossed his duffel at Riley's chest. "Take this. I'm walking her over."
Riley caught it, eyes still on Elena. "Yeah. Sure."
Jake's hand settled at Maya's back. "Come on. I'll show you where they hid the smart kids."
Ridge House Seven was a two-minute walk up a stone path. Maya fished the keycard from her back pocket and tapped it against the reader. The light flashed green and Jake pushed the door open, gesturing her inside. He followed her up. They stopped at the door at the end of the hall.
The door opened onto a view of the lake. A king-size bed against one wall. Linen robe folded at the foot. A wide stone table in front of a wall of glass, mountains filling the frame. A small vase of white flowers on the nightstand.
Jake dropped her bag by the table. The lake spread out below, the main lodge small.
"This is beautiful," she said.
"Yeah." He came up behind her, close enough she could feel the heat off his hoodie. His hands found her waist. "It is."
She turned. He hadn't been looking at the lake, but at her.
"This window looks down at the quad," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Coach B can see if you're slacking from up here. It's creepy."
She laughed. "Good to know."
He laughed too, but he didn't look away.
"What," she said.
He turned her to face him, thumbs pressing lightly into the fabric of her sweater. "Nothing." Then he leaned in and kissed her.
She kissed him back, fingers curling into his hoodie, and he walked her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed.
Maya pulled back, breathing hard. "What's that for?"
"Because I've been wanting to do that all day." His mouth found hers again, slower now. Savoring.
She pulled him closer and he deepened the kiss. The heat of it traveled all the way down her spine.
His phone buzzed.
He groaned against her mouth. "You've got to be kidding me."
She laughed as he pulled back, fishing the phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen.
"It's Riley. He probably forgot what I told him to do with my bag."
"He's going to be pissed."
"Probably." Jake silenced the call and flung the phone towards the mattress. Then his hands were on her again, pulling her flush against him. She felt him through his joggers, hard and unmistakable.
He kissed his way down her body. Jaw. Throat. The edge of her sweater. Then he sank to his knees, mouth on the bare skin above her leggings, and Maya's hands fisted his hair.
"Lie back."
She did, scooting up until her head hit the soft pillows, legs still off the edge. He stayed on his knees between her thighs and she felt powerful. Seen and still wanted.
His phone vibrated. He ignored it. His hands slid up under her sweater. "Let me see you," he murmured against her stomach, and she arched into the words.
"Sit up."
She did. He tugged the sweater over her head, gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge until she was open for him.
Goosebumps rose across her ribs. She hated how her body showed her nerves. But the way he looked at her, like she was it, like nothing else existed made her stop caring. Just her, in a plain cotton bra.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
He kissed the stretch marks on her hip, the ones she'd spent years hiding. He didn't look away. Just pressed his mouth there, then lower, like he'd been starving for it.
His fingers hooked into her leggings and he peeled them down slowly, kissing his way along her hip, her knee. Every touch deliberate. Patient.
He left her panties on. Pressed his mouth over the thin cotton and inhaled. Her hips bucked toward him.
"That all you're gonna do?"
He laughed against her and the vibration made her gasp. "No. I'm going to taste you first, then make you cum."
He dragged the panties aside. She felt more naked than naked. The glass wall was behind him, the dark lake outside, anyone could see but she didn't care. She felt reckless.
"Open up for me." His thumb traced her and she shuddered. "Because you're mine tonight."
His mouth was on her before she could answer.
The first lick was soft—a single, slow drag that made her spine arch off the mattress. He did it again, deeper. She heard herself moan, loud and unguarded. This wasn't her. She never lost control.
She grabbed his hair to anchor herself. He sealed his lips around her and slid two fingers inside, curling just right.
He stroked her there while his mouth worked her in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds filled the room. She arched into him, hips rocking, hand fisted so tight in his hair she didn't care if she was hurting him.
"Jake—don't stop—"
He added a third finger.
The stretch burned, then dissolved into nothing but sensation, her body pulsing around his fingers as she buried her face in a pillow to muffle the scream.
He kept licking her through it, gentle now, drawing out every tremor until she was whimpering and oversensitive, pushing at his forehead.
"Stop—Jake, I can't—"
He pressed one last kiss to her skin and rested his forehead there. His breath was uneven. His hands trembled where they held her. When he lifted his head, he looked as undone as she felt.
He kissed his way back up her body, mouth dragging over hip, stomach, breast, throat, until he reached her mouth and she tasted herself on his tongue.
She lay still for a second, breathing unevenly.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm—yeah."
He climbed onto the bed and settled over her. His weight was warm. Solid. She could feel him through his joggers, the soft fabric outlining him.
He kissed her, one hand sliding between them, thumb pressing where she was still sensitive. She jerked, and he slowed immediately, thumb brushing her cheek.
"Too much?"
"No. Don't stop."
He dragged his mouth down her throat to her breast, and he sucked one nipple hard just shy of pain,until she felt it everywhere, a hot line of sensation straight to her core. She locked her legs around his waist and rocked against him, the cotton between them suddenly unbearable.
"Take them off."
He went still. "Maya—"
"I want to feel you."
Want and fear crossed his face. "If I take them off, I'm not sure I can— I don't have a condom. I didn't plan—"
"I know." She kissed him. "We don't have to go all the way."
He nodded, then rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed. He pushed his joggers down, the elastic catching for a second before he freed himself.
She couldn't breathe. She was about to have sex with Jake Thompson. He was thick, flushed, curving up against his stomach, knocked the air from her lungs.
He settled over her again, bracing on his forearms. The thick head of him nudged through her slick, circling, pressing, each slow roll of his hips pulling a gasp from her. She dug her nails into his shoulders.
"Fuck," he breathed. Voice breaking. He kissed her instead, teeth scraping her lip, one hand fisting the sheets.
His phone rang from the corner of the mattress.
He kissed her harder. It buzzed again.
"Jake—"
"Ignore it." His mouth found her jaw. He didn't stop. Third ring. Fourth. Silence.
In the quiet, his breath shook against her skin. His arms trembled.
"Jake," she whispered. "Are you—"
"No." Eyes shut. "Just give me a minute."
The phone rang again. He grabbed it and thumbed speaker without moving, his weight still pinning her to the mattress.
Riley's voice filled the room. "Dude. Where the fuck are you? Roll call's on the turf and Coach B is asking for you. Get your ass down here."
Jake didn't look away from her. He rocked his hips once, slowly. His voice was wrecked when he answered. "Busy."
Riley went quiet. "Bro. Are you seriously— right now?"
Her eyes widened. She grabbed his shoulders, nails biting, hips lifting to chase the friction. He huffed a laugh and did it again. This time he caught her clit.
"We're busy," Jake said, voice shot, hips still rolling. Maya arched.
"Oh god," Riley breathed. "Bro, whatever. Just tell her yourself. That's—"
Jake ended the call.
In the silence, all he heard was her shaking under him, breathing unsteadily.
He looked down at her, jaw tight, cock flushed and wet. He found her hand and laced their fingers. She couldn't speak. Just lifted her hips.
He slid through her slick again, circling her clit. "You want me to fix that?"
"Jake—"
"Tell me." His thumb joined in. "Tell me what you want."
She grabbed his face, dragged him down. "You. Inside me. Now. Please."
He groaned, whole body locking. Then he pulled back enough to see her, jaw tight. "Maya."
She rose to meet him. "Don't stop—"
His hand cradled her jaw. Thumb on her pulse. "No condom." The words came out rough. He pressed his forehead to her neck. "When I'm in you, I'm not pulling out. I don't want to." He swallowed. "I should have planned better. I'm sorry."
"So no." He kissed her. "Not tonight."
He kissed her again, slower, memorizing. Then he moved down, settled between her legs, and put his mouth on her. She was still so sensitive she came apart fast, sobbing his name into the sheets. He stayed until she stopped shaking, pressed one last kiss to her hip, and pulled back.
"I have to go get yelled at."
She was still holding him. "Go. Before Riley sends out a search party."
He grinned and kissed her once more before standing. Joggers up. The fabric outlined everything. So did the hoodie. He met her eyes and didn't bother to adjust.
He nodded toward the foot of the bed. "Put the robe on. So you don't get cold."
She glanced at the linen robe, still folded where it had been left.
He was at the door when he turned back. "I'm coming back for the rest of you. And I'll be prepared."
The door clicked shut.
Maya lay still. Then she pushed herself up, grabbed the robe from the foot of the bed, and pulled it around her shoulders. The linen was soft, creased from where it'd been folded.
She pressed a hand to her stomach — right where his mouth had been. Aftershocks still rippled through her.
Outside was dark. She sat in the quiet and didn't reach for the lamp.