Page 62 of The Chalet Girl

Tristan broke the tension to glance back to the till.

‘Great, I’ll take three of the black Monclers for the men and the white Vuitton in small.’

‘Very good,’ Muffie said, as she started to gather the stock. ‘I just have to go to the basement for the XL. Don’t go anywhere!’ she joked.

‘I won’t.’

Tristan looked back at Emme. Cocksure and flirtatious. She met his gaze and rose on the balls of her feet clad in ski socks.

‘You know,’ he said, slowly. ‘On the mountain…’

‘Yes?’ Emme lifted her chin. The atmosphere betweenthem was electric. She had never felt so mischievous. She had never felt so turned on.

‘You know how I wish it really ended?’ He edged closer.

‘Tell me…’ Emme arched her body towards his as Tristan put the Vuitton helmet down on the chair and placed his hand on Emme’s hip. Stroking the contour of her arse, he then drew a circle on Emme’s stomach before sliding his hand into the waistband of her SKIMS. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him. How little she cared that anyone might see through the shop window, or come in through the door. She inhaled quietly and ecstatically, letting out a gentle moan as she felt Tristan’s finger press her pulsating pussy; Emme felt her heart racing out of her chest.

‘Here you are!’ Muffie said with blithe obliviousness as Emme and Tristan quickly pulled apart. ‘One extra-large helmet.’

‘Wonderful, you’re an angel,’ Tristan said sincerely, returning to the counter.

Emme pulled her clothes off the chair, put them on as quickly as she could, and brought the gloves and helmet to the till. She knew the Goldbergh coat and salopettes were beyond her budget.

Tristan opened his wallet and took out his gold card. ‘And whatever the lady is buying,’ he said, gesturing to the lilac two-piece Muffie had placed on the counter.

Emme gasped, already flushed pink.

‘No really, I couldn’t.’

‘Yes, you could. I insist. That Louis Vuitton helmet would look gorgeous on you too.’

‘I can’t, it’s too much.’

‘Really, it’s nothing, it would be my pleasure,’ Tristansaid with a shrug, piercing Emme with the intensity of his gold-brown eyes.

Why me?

She wanted to hate him for being such a playboy, for not being Tom, but Tristan’s touch had been so exquisite, she was lost for words.

‘Really,’ he said again with such assurance Emme knew protesting was pointless.

‘Well… thank you,’ she said, equal parts grateful and embarrassed. Tristan handed his card over to Muffie, who rang it all through while Tristan and Emme fucked each other with their eyes.

‘All of it?’ Muffie asked, a slight huffiness in her voice.

‘Yes,’ Tristan answered, still favouring Emme with a penetrating look. She couldn’t take her eyes off him either, the strength of his gravitational pull more powerful than a lifetime of crushes rolled into one. The sensation of his touch still lingering between her legs.

Tristan broke first when the card terminal beeped.

‘It needs your face ID,’ said Muffie.

Tristan obliged.

‘Can you have my guests’ helmets sent to the Anna Maria please, Muffs? I need to meet a business associate at Vitreum.’

‘Of course,’ she said efficiently, as she wrapped Emme’s goods in tissue paper. Her flirty tone had turned to something a little more put out by being the third wheel in this transaction, but still, TDK was spending a small fortune in her store. She had to be polite.

‘Thank you,’ Emme said, with a grateful nod. ‘It really is too much.’