Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(52)

He kisses up my neck. “Do you like this too?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You want me to kiss you and f*ck you like this for the next half hour?”

I let out a little laugh. “You’ll never make it that long. This is our first time together, and the sex is just way too hot.”

“It is pretty hot,” he agrees, pulling out all the way.

I whimper at the loss.

“I can do it, though,” he assures me as he s-l-o-w-l-y slides back in, making me sigh. “I like a good challenge. And when we’re done we can take a break, and then start back up all over again.”

“Oh God, Brent, what are you trying to do to me?”

He stops, buried deep inside me. Our eyes meet and he says, “Maybe I’m trying to make you fall for me?”

What if I already have?





Bliss





Nothing matters in her bedroom. It’s just me and her, one woman and one man, and everything stretching before us of what we could be.

Do I love Aubrey?

I don’t know, but I think I could if I let myself.

And I want to do exactly that. Fuck the rules. Love breaks them all the time, anyway, right?

I make it the thirty minutes I promised her, and then some. While we rest in her bed afterward—me playing absently with her shiny hair, and her with her cheek pressed to my chest—I think about how we got to this point.

“I sure am glad I was so insanely jealous over Al,” I muse out loud.

I feel her lips turn up into a smile against my skin. “I can’t believe you thought my sister and I kept a man at my house that we shared for sex. That’s just gross, Brent.”

I smack her bare ass, to which she lets out a little yelp. “You are a little wild in the sack,” I say. “So it could’ve been true.”

She reaches down and pinches my thigh. “Ow,” I mutter. “That hurts.”

“This, from the big, bad hockey player,” she says.

“Ha-ha.”

“Anyway,” she goes on, “it serves you right. I’d never divide up my time with a guy with Lainey. I don’t like sharing.” She peers up at me meaningfully with those sea-green eyes.

I would normally feel indignant. Like, you don’t own me. I’ll do whatever the hell I want. But that was the old me. I haven’t felt the urge to touch another woman since Aubrey entered my life. Why would anything change now that we’ve had sex?

I smooth her messy hair away from her face and assure her, “You have nothing to worry about with me.”

“What about all your other women?”

“What other women?” I snort.

“Oh, let’s see.” She ticks off the following: “There are puck bunnies, ladies at the strip clubs, regular booty calls.”

“First off, the women at the strip clubs are generally not ladies. Plus, that’s more Nolan’s scene. As for puck bunnies, I haven’t touched one of them in ages, not since the summer. You know that.”

“You didn’t address the regular booty calls,” she reminds me.

“I’m hoping you’ll become that,” I say.

She bites her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is that all we are?”

I raise a brow. “Do you want more?”

I want us to become a couple, but this is her call. Her ass is more on the line than mine if this relationship is discovered. That means if she does want this, we’ll need to keep it on the strictest down-low.

“Aubrey?” I prompt when there’s no answer forthcoming.

“Yes,” she blurts out. “I guess we are more than friends now, right? I mean, after what just occurred.” She gestures to the rumpled sheets we’re lying on, to our naked bodies, limbs entwined.

But, wait. Does this mean she doesn’t want more? Maybe all she wanted all along was some cock. And we now know she could never get that from Al the Cockless Alligator.

Bristling—I don’t like feeling used, not by her—I say, “Us f*cking doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, Aubrey.”

Sitting up abruptly, she wraps the sheet around her body. “What we did felt like more than some random f*ck, Brent.”

I sit up next to her and fold my arms across my chest. “That’s what I’m trying to find out. Was it? For you, I mean.”

Her eyes search mine, and when she sees what I guess she needs from me, she says, “Yes. And I think it was for you too.”

“It was,” I admit.

Shit, feeling vulnerable sucks. But I better get used to it if we’re hitting relationship territory here. I haven’t had one of those since juniors, so this should be interesting.

I’m all set to travel down this new road of emotional intimacy, but then I notice Aubrey is staring at my dick.

I reach down and stroke it a little to give it some life. “See something you like?” I ask.

She leans in closer, her face right above my junk. It’s a good look for her.

“I’m just looking for the tattoo,” she says. “The fifty-one. Where is it?”

“Clearly not on my cock,” I reply, amused.

“You said it was there, though.”