Story Excerpt

We should’ve had an easy eight-minute glide to the summit. Instead, the gondola stalled, the sun baked the cabin, and two gorgeous ski bunnies decided “truth or dare” sounded better than small talk. And not just any bunnies, my stepsisters. Clothes came off. Smirks turned to kisses. One dropped to her knees while the other climbed into my lap, and suddenly the only thing moving was our mouths and hips. The lift’s PA said thirty minutes; we made every second count. Public risk. Filthy dares. Wet mouths, warm holes, and fogged windows. By the time the car finally jerked back to life, we were scrambling for clothes and promising a round two.