Master Class [Après-Ski 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Read online

  Après-Ski 1

  Master Class

  In the small, independent European resort of Nevella, Hadleigh’s is the après-ski hangout of choice. Run by six hunky American ex-pats, the club has a very exclusive private side that’s strictly invitation only.

  Tanya Novac and Melanie arrive for a week’s skiing. Melanie—slim, beautiful and full of confidence—sets her sights on their instructor, Ward Shannon. But Ward prefers slightly overweight Tanya, recognizing in her a need to be dominated that she doesn’t know exists. He takes her to Hadleigh’s BDSM club, and they embark upon a steamy Master/sub relationship.

  Melanie can’t accept being second best and forces Tanya to confront unresolved issues from her past. Ward’s feelings for Tanya compel him to re-examine his reasons for hiding in Nevella and giving up on a promising career in journalism. Can Ward and Tanya help one another to fight their demons and find happiness in one another’s arms…

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 48,885 words

  MASTER CLASS

  Après-Ski 1

  Zara Chase

  EVERLASTING CLASSIC

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic

  MASTER CLASS

  Copyright © 2013 by Zara Chase

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-480-8

  First E-book Publication: August 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  MASTER CLASS

  Après-Ski 1

  ZARA CHASE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “Phew, thank god we’ve arrived.” Melanie threw herself onto one of the oversized single beds and sighed. “I thought that bus trip would never end.”

  “They don’t put airports on top of mountains so…duh, if you wanna go skiing—”

  “Sure, I get that part but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Melanie sat up and cast a critical glance around the spacious room. “Hmm, this’ll do, I guess.”

  So it should, Tanya thought, the amount it was costing her. “Glad you like it.”

  “Sure, what’s not to like?”

  Melanie bounced energetically up and down, oblivious to Tanya’s sarcasm. She actually believed it was possible to burn five hundred calories in a half hour’s energetic sex session and was presumably satisfying herself that the equipment was up to the job. She worked hard to maintain her perfect figure and used calorie control as a legitimate excuse to let her raging hormones run the show. Tanya wondered what she was supposed to do with herself when her friend chose some fortunate guy to help her put the bedsprings through their paces.

  “This place seems pretty cool,” Melanie said, flat on her back again.

  “Cool’s about right.”

  Tanya glanced out the window and shivered, glad for the triple-glazing that separated her from the wintery scene outside. There were snowdrifts three feet deep lining the edges of the roads where the plough had pushed it off the carriageway. Heavy clouds threatened more snow to come. Still, that was what they were here for. According to the overcheerful guide on the bus ride up from the airport, the snow was supposed to clear overnight and the slopes would have a fresh coating of powder for them to enjoy on their first morning’s skiing.

  Or not, if the wind got up and blew it away before the slopes could be groomed.

  “Come on, there’s no time to lie about in bed.” Tanya threw a pillow at Melanie. “We’ve only got half an hour before the welcome drinks party down in the bar.”

  Melanie perked up at the thought of alcohol. “And I’m not fit to be seen.”

  Tanya couldn’t be bothered to tell Melanie what she wanted to hear. They’d been traveling for hours and Tanya felt grubby, in dire need of a shower. She didn’t want to think about her appearance, especially since Melanie still looked as fresh as a daisy. It was so not fair. Sighing, Tanya opened her case and pulled out her bag of toiletries.

  “I’ll grab the first shower,” she said.

  It was the logical way to do things. Tanya could shower, wash and dry her hair, be dressed and ready to roll in less than fifteen minutes. She loved Melanie to death, but when it came to her appearance her friend had turned preparation into an art form. She would look even more stunning than she already did when she was finally emerged from the bathroom, and Tanya had learned years ago that there was absolutely no point trying to compete. She had fifty pound
s and six inches on her petite friend. That ought to have made her highly visible, but when they walked into a room together it was like Tanya didn’t exist.

  “Sure, go ahead,” Melanie said, grabbing most of the hangers from the closet and starting to put her stuff away.

  There was plenty of hot water in the rustic bathroom. Tanya took her usual two-minute shower, decided her hair didn’t need washing, brushed her teeth, and applied minimal makeup. With just a towel wrapped around her substantial body, Tanya wandered back into the bedroom and rummaged in her case for something to wear.

  “All yours,” she said to Melanie. “Don’t take all night.”

  “What, me?” Melanie flashed an impudent smile. “When do I ever?”

  Tanya chuckled. “I can’t think of a single time.”

  Her friend headed for the shower, clutching a bulging bagful of beauty preparations. Melanie absolutely didn’t need all that stuff, but Tanya had long since given up trying to convince her of that.

  Tanya pulled on clean, comfortable jeans. She wasn’t made for the tight-fitting variety since her thighs definitely weren’t worth showcasing. She snapped on a bra tough enough to hold the weight of her large breasts and pulled a long, concealing tunic on over it. Her favorite boots were an obvious choice of footwear. The hotel was warm and they had no plans to venture out into the cold tonight, so she’d be okay as she was. A quick brush through her hair and she was good to go.

  Resigned to the fact that Melanie would be a good half hour in the bathroom, if for no other reason than that she would want to make a late entrance into the bar, Tanya fired up her iPad. As a freelance website designer, she could work anywhere she liked and always keep on top of things, which was a definite benefit. She did pretty damned well at it, too. Well, she had until…No, don’t think about him.

  “You’ve come away to forget your mistakes,” she said aloud, laughing as she read a saucy e-mail and even saucier excerpt from the latest novel written by an erotic author whose site she maintained. Tanya got off on vicarious sex, which was just as well because it was the only type on offer nowadays. Besides, no one could hurt her or let her down if her interaction was restricted to lascivious literature and a high-speed vibrator.

  She fired off a quick e-mail to her author. “Are you sure that’s physically possible?” she asked, rereading the description of the hot sex the hero and heroine were indulging in. The woman had her feet on the floor behind her head, for goodness’ sake! “Wouldn’t she have to be double jointed?”

  Tanya was still chuckling at the images conjured up by the athletic woman when Melanie emerged from the bathroom wearing skintight white jeans, white thigh-length boots with four-inch heels, and a slinky red sweater that was at least one size too small for her. She was a natural blonde—of course she was!—and her silky locks fell halfway down her back, shimmering like spun gold whenever she moved her head. Her makeup was perfect, if a little overdone.

  “White boots?” Tanya elevated a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Come on, girlfriend.” Melanie tugged the iPad from Tanya’s hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go knock ’em dead.”

  They took the stairs down one floor and followed the noise coming from the spacious bar. The entire hotel appeared to be constructed out of solid timber, giving it the feel of the alpine lodge it was designed to be, albeit not in the Alps. There was a prevailing aroma of pine forests and eucalyptus that Tanya found soothing. The walls were lined with old black-and-white pictures of people wearing old-fashioned skis.

  “Look at these,” Tanya said, pausing. “I wonder how long ago they were taken. Do you think this is Medina Village, years ago?”

  Melanie shrugged, barely sparing them a glance, and forged on ahead. Not wishing to make an entrance alone, Tanya abandoned the pictures and scurried to catch up with her. Melanie strode confidently into the lounge-bar. Crowds were gathered around the open log fire, and Tanya could hear snippets of stilted conversations, mostly in English, as the new arrivals swapped horror stories about their journeys and the joys of modern-day air travel. What she later discovered was called Brandwieser—a lethal concoction of local brandy and other secret ingredients—flowed freely. It certainly appeared to break the ice indoors just as efficiently as the snow ploughs were doing the job out in the streets.

  Tanya wasn’t surprised when heads turned in their direction and the conversations gradually stopped. She hated being the center of attention, and Melanie’s penchant for grand entrances used to make her want to crawl under a rock. She’d long since learned that no one was looking at her. She followed behind Melanie’s pert little backside, trying not to roll her eyes when her friend flicked her hair over one shoulder and confidently launched herself into the center of the main group.

  Tanya chuckled. Melanie had X-ray vision when it came to men. She could sense where the best-looking ones happened to be located from twenty paces away with the wind in the wrong direction. Nothing wrong with that. Melanie was what she was. Only Tanya and a few other close friends knew that she almost always dressed unsuitably and projected an air of total self-confidence to hide gargantuan insecurities.

  Someone—a good-looking man, of course—thrust a glass of the local witch’s brew into Melanie’s hand. Melanie, bless her heart, immediately handed it to Tanya, and then simply smiled at the nearest man, waiting for him to fetch another one. It happened within a nanosecond. Tanya took a sip of her drink, and almost choked on it. Tanya wasn’t a big drinker, and this stuff tasted as though it could strip the lining of her stomach bare. She told herself to take it slow. She had enough trouble staying upright with wooden planks strapped to her feet at the best of times. She didn’t need to be struggling with a hangover in the morning as well.

  As always, the men seemed fascinated with Melanie, but the women appeared apprehensive, viewing her as a threat. Tanya had seen it too often to let it get to her and glanced around the room instead, interested in her surroundings and in the history of the quirky little principality that was to be her home for a whole week. There seemed to be about thirty new arrivals clustered around the fire. The rest of the bar was filled with what appeared to be a mixture of locals and skiers who’d been here a while longer and obviously considered themselves to be old hands. Three guys and a chick were dressed in the uniforms of instructors. One of them was drop-dead gorgeous and even Tanya—who was off men permanently—couldn’t help staring. Perhaps a little window-shopping would prove to be cathartic?

  The hunk in question was tall, with a waterfall of blond wavy hair, and looked like he’d be more at home on a surfboard than skis. He had a strong jaw that sported a day’s worth of designer stubble, spectacularly rugged good looks, and sheer unadulterated animal magnetism. His piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd, pausing to assess Melanie with predictable interest.

  One of the other instructors called the new arrivals to order. “If you’d like to grab a chair, ladies and gents, we’ll get started.”

  Melanie extracted herself from the group of guys who’d monopolized her and slid into a chair beside Tanya.

  “Who’s he?” she asked, nodding toward the blond hunk. “If there’s any justice in this world then he’ll be our instructor this week.”

  “Doesn’t matter if he isn’t.” Tanya resisted rolling her eyes. “He already can’t take his eyes off you.”

  “You think?”

  Tanya laughed. “Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

  “I think he’s a Yank. I heard him talking just now.” Melanie flashed a dreamy smile that elevated her looks from sensational to knockout status. “He has a rich, deep brown voice with a gorgeous accent that does things to me. I’m in lurve.”

  This time Tanya did roll her eyes. “We’ve been here less than an hour. That’s a record, even by your standards.”

  “Babe, watch this space.” The determined expression that Tanya knew so well flashed through her friend’s eyes. “The guy won’t know what’s hit him.”
>
  * * * *

  Ward Shannon took a seat along with his fellow instructors, crossed one booted foot over his opposite thigh, and ran an indolent eye over this week’s punters. He’d seen the chick in the tight white jeans and sexy boots the moment she walked in the room. So had just about every other red-blooded male in the place, which he figured would make her real happy ’cause that was obviously her intention. She was cute but too wrapped up in herself and definitely not his type.

  Probably not more than five two, she had a perfect hourglass figure, not a spare ounce of fat on her. Ward reckoned that eating out with her would be a goddamned nightmare. Food was supposed to be one of life’s sensual pleasures, not an enemy to be toyed with and discarded for fear of bodily disfigurement.

  His attention wandered to the girl’s friend. Their gazes briefly clashed, and Ward liked what he saw. He flashed one of his lazy trademark smiles her way and gave her his full attention. This one had issues with her body, he could tell that much at a single glance. She was hiding behind baggy jeans and a loose top that failed to completely conceal the full tits beneath it. No silicone there, he thought, and that seemed to be an exception to the rule nowadays. He was willing to bet that her diminutive friend was surgically enhanced in just about every place possible.

  The woman clearly didn’t know what she had to offer, probably because she was fed up with playing second fiddle to her sexy friend. Did she even know that her heart-shaped face was adorable? That her features, enhanced by a flawless complexion, give or take a few freckles, held a man’s interest because they were so healthily and refreshingly natural? Was she aware that she held herself with an almost disturbingly elegant poise that set her apart? Her russet-brown eyes were large and intense. Her long coppery hair tumbled down her back in a waterfall of natural curls that made Ward gag for the opportunity to run his fingers through it.