The Von Trapp Family Lodge outside Stowe, Vermont is one of the most beautiful ski lodges on the North American continent. Guests ski from dawn to dusk, the snow and brisk cold air adding a festive air to the winter wonderland. In addition to skiing, the lodge offers sleigh rides and toboggans for individual use and when guests return to the lodge, exhausted, there's always a warm fire burning brightly in the main rooms. All meals are included in the price of a room and are always served buffet style. The offerings are lavish in display as well as taste. When she was still alive, Maria Von Trapp was often seen joining a few guests at dinnertime. She was as beautiful in her senior years as she had been as a young girl.
JC and Spencer had been frequent guests; one of the Von Trapp grandsons a close friend of theirs. When one of the larger guest suites became available, he contacted JC to see if he and Spencer could get away for a long weekend in Vermont. JC whisked Spencer away so fast she barely had time to pack. They arrived on a late flight and Spencer, overtired, slept the entire hour and a half it took to drive from the Burlington airport to the lodge. When she woke, she was ensconced in JC's arms in a soft comfortable bed, a fire in the hearth burning brightly.
"Did you check us in or are we here and nobody knows?" Spencer asked, blinking and rubbing her eyes.
"You slept through it all," JC chuckled, bending his head to kiss her brow. "The way you usually do," he added with a wide smile.
"You carried me into the lodge and nobody noticed?" She shook her head at the thought. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"Tossed you over my shoulder the way I usually do," he grinned. "And nobody noticed. They're used to seeing you comatose."
"What?" he laughed, then jumped when she pinched him.
"You have *no* couth!"
"I know," he smiled. "You always remind me of that fact. Now kiss me, bambina. It's the least you can do after I had to explain why you were dead to the world."
"What did you say?" Spencer asked as she crawled on top of her husband's body.
"Said you were three sheets to the wind," JC answered matter-of-factly and then braced himself for her outburst.
"You weren't three sheets to the wind?" he grinned. "Uh-oh," he pretended to grimace. "My mistake."
"You!" Spencer sat up, straddling her husband's chest and pummeled him with the pillow. "You are totally lacking in couth! The people here will think I'm a drunk or a... a wino! How could you!"
"Would you rather I told them you were exhausted from jumping my bones?" he laughed as he turned her onto her back and started nibbling her throat. "Would you rather I let them know that I'm married to a nymphomaniac who can't keep her hands off my body? What do you suppose they'd think if I told them I can't keep clothes on you?" he teased as his palms slid over silky flesh and his lips traveled south, her contented sighs spurring him on. He raised his head to look at her and winked.
"Don't stop," Spencer purred.
"Did you hear anything I said?" JC chuckled as he began the slow sweet teasing that was prelude to more intimacy.
"Mmmm," Spencer hummed. "Don't stop doing what you're doing."
"What should I do now, bambina?" he asked as his lips teased her inner thighs, his hands cupping her bottom cheeks.
"Surprise me," she murmured, arching her back as his hands and mouth began to fulfill promises.
Sated and pleasantly tired, limbs entwined, they fell asleep to the soft music piped into their suite. The fire died down but the room remained comfortable and both were curled into each other under the down comforter. Dawn was two hours away when JC woke rested and hungry for more of the warm body pressed against his chest. With an arm around her breasts and the other between her thighs, he sought entrance to her heat. She pushed her bottom back, meeting his thrusts with gentle ones of her own and her sleepy murmurs convinced him that she thought she was dreaming. He found their loving even sweeter because, asleep or awake, she wanted him. Content, he fell asleep with the warmth of her beside him.
Dawn was breaking when he woke again. Quietly, he ordered a carafe of coffee and when it was delivered, he wrapped Spencer's naked body in a blanket and sat on the couch, holding her on his lap while he watched the morning news. He was drinking coffee when she woke and after murmuring good morning and kissing her brow, gave her a sip of his coffee.
"This is nice," Spencer yawned. "We should do this more often."
"We do it all the time, baby," her husband told her as he put the coffee mug down and pulled her into a tighter embrace.
"What do you mean?" she asked when he let her up for air.
"At home," he explained. "Some mornings I get up early and make coffee and sit up in bed with you in my arms. Sometimes," he whispered as his palm found her breast, "I forget the coffee and make love to you instead."
"You do?" she asked as his hand slid south under the blanket.
"I do," he murmured as he pulled the blanket away from her body, gently pushed her onto her back and kissed his way down familiar territory.
"What if you're running late?" she asked when he kissed his way back up to her mouth.
"When I'm running late, I dress first," he told her as he pulled her back onto his lap and nuzzled her throat. "I take you into the kitchen with me and hold you while I drink coffee. Before I leave, I tuck you back into bed."
"You hold me while you drink coffee?"
"Mmmm," he murmured as he buried his face in her hair. "I hold you."
"That's all you do? You don't get fresh?" she asked as her hands reached under the waistband of his sweats.
"I'm always fresh, bambina," he smiled as he caught her hand. "When it comes to you, I'm always fresh."
"Are we going to ski while we're here?" she asked reaching for more of his coffee.
"I'm going to ski," he clarified. "You're going to do belly flops in the snow."
"That's a very rude thing to say," Spencer pouted. "If you would take the time to teach me, I'd be a much better skier."
"Do you remember what happened the last time I gave you a ski lesson?" he asked, struggling to keep a stern look on his face.
"You lost your ski pants?" Spencer said with a straight face and then burst into laughter, remembering the events.
JC grinned, turning her over his knees before she could protest. "That ski run will never be the same," he chuckled, delivering light stinging swats. "I think carving our initials into that tree to mark the spot didn't help, either. And furthermore," he continued as his hand clapped off her bottom, making her alternate between giggles and gasps, "we never did find your panties. Of course, your butt was cherry red by the time I warmed it so you really didn't need them."
"You were very angry," Spencer reminded him as she tried to turn on his lap but he held her in place, his hand kneading her flesh and his mouth eager to kiss the rosy cheeks.
"Couldn't stay angry too long," he remembered. "Was having too much fun keeping your butt rosy the whole time we were here. And if you ever try to yank my pants down while I'm on skis again," he growled, landing an extra sharp swat to her bottom, making her yelp. "I'm going to keep this little tush cherry red till the cows come home."
"Cows?" Spencer echoed then squirmed when his lips traveled over her warm bottom. His lips curved into a smile as she made those unintelligible but satisfied sounds that always filled his heart when he was loving her.
"What did you say about cows?" she asked when she could take a normal breath.
"I said I love you," he smiled at the naked imp, hugging her close to his chest.
"You spoil me," she whispered.
"I love spoiling you," he told her.
"Are we going to ski?" she asked again.
"We're going to go downstairs and eat breakfast and then we'll try out some skis. And I don't want to see you eating dessert, first. Capisca? Understand?"
"I like dessert," she said unnecessarily.
"Eggs or hot cereal, bambina. Then you can have danish or whatever else they have."
"Mmm," she sighed, her mouth watering as she contemplated double chocolate almond muffins with hot cocoa. And hot apple crumb danish and fresh boysenberry tarts and...
He recognized the look on her face. Spencer had the same expression for forbidden foods as she had for their lovemaking. He arched a stern brow in her direction.
"What are you going to have?" she asked with a sassy grin.
"Your butt!" he exclaimed as he flipped her back over his knees and nipped her bottom cheeks. "And I'm going to keep it as hot as the breakfast you're going to eat," he promised, delivering another sharp swat and then covered the heated flesh with wet sloppy kisses.
"Are we ever going to eat breakfast or are you going to spoil me again?" she asked when they could breathe normally once more.
"Maybe, brunch," was the reply. "Or lunch," he murmured. "Dinner, for sure," he promised as he carried her into the shower to spoil her again.