Ice Hard

by Tracy Goodwin

  “You sure?” Thor stands in the entrance, between the living room and kitchen dining area, with his eyes closed while Nick heads over to me.

  Kissing me, Nick mutters, “On second thought. No—wait a sec. I’ll tell you when it’s safe.”

  Nick checks that Thor is doing as instructed, then tugs the blanket open. Oh my God! He mouths. You’re so hot!

  He then kisses me once more, before whispering, “Best return home ever.”

  My cheeks burn from embarrassment, though I embrace it. This uncontrolled chaos that’s become my life with Nick. Where I do things completely out of my comfort zone and then feel empowered because I did them on my terms.

  After Nick wraps the blanket back over me, he tells his friend it’s safe.

  “Nice to see you, Thor.” I play it casual. Like this guy seeing me half naked as Britney is no big deal.

  Thor’s eyes widen. “Nice to see you, too. Even though I didn’t see much. Of anything. Not that you’re not hot, but I didn’t see that. Any of that hotness, I mean…”

  “Got it. Nice talk.” I head toward the stairs. “I’ll give you some time.”

  “Hey!” Nick catches up to me, whispering, “Call me in five. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

  I nod, then head upstairs, into Nick’s bedroom, leaning against the closed door behind me. Holy mortifying. That must have been the most embarrassing moment of my entire life. At least I can say I looked sexy AF. That’s something. So was Nick’s expression. Pride, desire, and so much more. I can’t wait to experience the more first hand.

  Watching the screen on my cell, I give him six minutes, then call. I hear the ringtone “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer blare from downstairs. That’s Nick’s ringtone for me? Since when?

  “I say you reach out to her. What do you have to lose? You already let her go and regret it. Now, make it right.” Nick answers, still talking to Thor. “Hey, Demon. Yeah, he’s here. Okay, I’ll send him over. Bye.”

  Thor clears his throat. “Do you honestly think I’ll fall for ‘Hot Stuff’ being your ringtone for Damon?”

  “You insisted on AC/DC’s ‘Thunderstruck.’ Who are you to judge?” Nick sounds dead serious and all I want to do is laugh. “Besides, your hockey stick isn’t really an Asgardian hammer, dude. I humor you, so just go with me on this.”

  The call disconnects and Thor yells from downstairs, “Bye, Cami.”

  I open the door a crack, enough to yell back. “See you soon, Thor.”

  “Not too soon, though,” Nick clarifies, his volume decelerating.

  So, I’m in Nick’s bedroom, pretending to be Britney at the VMAs. What do I do? Something cool…and sexy. I hop on his bed, which is a four-poster, and grasp one of the posts like it’s a stripper pole. Keeping it classy. Just when I decide the stripper pole vibe is too much, even for me, Nick bounds through the door—shirtless, no shoes—and claims my mouth with his.

  I unbutton his jeans, then work on the zipper, shoving his jeans down, freeing his obvious erection.

  Nick yanks my hair, looking me straight in the eye with the ferocity of a champ. “I’m your slave, so fuck me hard, Camille.”

  The alpha male is giving me full control. “You. Naked. Now.”

  There’s no pretense between me and Nick. Not anymore. I know what he wants and I give it to him. Shoving him flat on his back against his mattress and mounting him, licking him, sucking him, biting him. Just hard enough to ignite his lust, to fan the flames and make him want me more, until he pleads with me.

  Sitting upright, I unclasp my bra and untie the straps. All the while, Nick’s intense eyes, the tumultuous color of a winter ocean, study my breasts, causing my nipples to harden, causing my core to ache for him. Then he grabs my breasts, cupping them in his hands, squeezing them. I gasp, and I moan. Undulating on top of him. The waves of heat and yearning reaching a crescendo within me.

  That’s when I show him my surprise, or rather guide him, guide his erection to my core, through the hole in my crotchless boy shorts.

  “Christ! You’re killing me.” His words are throaty as he squeezes my hips, thrusting within me. “You are sexy as fuck.”

  So is he. Chiseled, smooth, and rock hard. I ride him, basking in the warmth of his expressions—pleasure and pain—his erection must be painful. That’s when I undulate faster, as my own euphoria escalates, and I cry out. Nick’s palms are clamped on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and he thrusts harder, then deeper until I feel so high that I could touch the stars if I tried. Instead, I stay with him.

  Nick is my anchor. He’s my shore. He’s my North Star. He’s my home. Though I already knew I loved him, it finally hits me just how deeply. When the last wave of pleasure crashes within me, and the tremors cause my body to shudder, I run my nails through his beard.

  His hooded gaze meets mine as I admit what’s in my heart. “I love you, Nick.”

  “I love you.” His voice is breathless and full of wonder. “Holy fuck, I love you.”

  He doesn’t get it, my meaning, not yet. So I add, “You’re my only.”

  That’s all it takes, as his eyes widen, meeting mine. The passion remains, only a gentleness has replaced the feral lust from our love making. “Oh, Camille.”

  Rolling me onto my back, Nick’s legs entwine with mine as he caresses my cheek with his smooth thumb. “You mean it?”

  “More than anything.” I smile. I can’t help but smile. He is my only. Though I’m terrified. Because I love him, and know what it’s like to lose something you love so dearly. I also know what it’s like to want the best for the one you love. I’d do anything to make Nick happy. It’s a weight I now carry. Because he means everything to me.

  If I ever feel that I’m not the one to make him happy, I’ll walk. Not because I don’t love him, but because I do. So very much. And that terrifies me. If I’m not enough…

  Nick traces my lips with his tongue, silencing my doubts. His beard has grown longer than it was at the wedding, and it’s scratchy. Somehow, it feels more exhilarating than our first night together. Because that was a fantasy, and this is real life. Jobs, us, we’re real.

  We’re also fragile. All relationships are. So, I love hard, all the while knowing that this can disappear at any time. Hoping it doesn’t, but dreading it will.

  I haven’t changed entirely. I’m still a realist. Until Nick kisses my neck and fans his warm breath against my earlobe, giving it a gentle nip with his teeth. Then, and only then, do I shove reality aside. For now, at least.

  Reality will inevitably set in again. I just hope I’m prepared for the fallout.

  Chapter 18

  Nick

  “In order of age, there’s Mike, Beth, Ben, you, and Matty.” I turn on to the block where Mike lives. It’s wooded, tree-lined, and all of the houses look the same. Brick structures with steep peaks and front porches. We pass a park to my left and a redhead waving frantically near the baseball diamond. “And your cousin Sally. How many cousins will be here today?”

  “Don’t worry about my cousins. You’ve got my siblings down. That’s what counts the most. And Aunt Jo, who is Sally’s mom. It’s short for Josephine. Also, don’t worry about the wives, girlfriends, and kids. You’ll never remember those.” Cami pats my leg. It’s protective and sweet. “Just smile, and be yourself. Everyone loves you. Besides, you already know Sally. And Tim.”

  I mutter aloud, “Mike, Beth, Ben, Matt, Sally, Tim, and Josephine. Mike, Beth, Ben, Matt, Sally, Tim, and Josephine.” It’s on a loop, one that I keep repeating.

  Christ, I’m freaking out. Beads of sweat form at my brow and my pulse is racing a marathon. This is what happens when I meet Camille’s family, when I fear they’ll hate me. Fear…I’m fearless. Except when it comes to the Benetti clan.

  They know about Pete and will probably expect me to be an asshole, just like
he was. At least I’m starting at the bottom. Nowhere to go but up. I am a glass-half-full kind of guy, I silently remind myself.

  “Aww. You’re nervous.” Cami’s smile is wide as she teases me.

  “Of course I am. I’m meeting your family. What if they don’t like me?”

  Squeezing my leg, she’s steadfast in her resolve. “They will love you. All of them. Besides, my dad won’t be there, so you’re in! No pressure. Just have fun. It’s one big dysfunctional family baseball game. Oooh! Parking spot. Behind the—oh shit!”

  “What, oh shit?” I pump the breaks, my pulse skyrocketing, pounding in my temples.

  Camille points to a red Cadillac parked to the right. “2002 Eldorado ESC with the canvas top and chrome wheels. It’s my dad’s. It’s in mint condition and is his baby. They stopped making them in 2002.”

  “Jesus, your dad is here?” I grip the steering wheel, swallowing hard. Shit! I’m meeting Camille’s dad.

  She points to that open spot and waits for me to parallel park. Once I turn off the ignition, Cami unfastens her seatbelt. “Everything is fine. My dad will love you. You’ll bond with him over your mutual adoration for classic cars and will be the only one of my boyfriends he’s ever liked.”

  “Really?” I cock my eyebrows, studying her reaction, or lack thereof. All Camille manages is a nod of her head. “He’s going to hate me. Shit, your dad is going to hate me.”

  Placing my hand in hers, Camille turns it, then plants a kiss on my palm. “He’ll try to intimidate you—you are dating one of his daughters, after all. Just be yourself.” She kisses my palm again. “This isn’t working. It calms me, why doesn’t it work for you?”

  “Because I’m meeting your dad and he’s going to hate me. Besides, when I do that to you, you usually get turned on. Now’s not the time for me to be aroused, with meeting your dad and all.” A hard-on is the last thing I need when I meet Camille’s dad.

  Camille flattens her palm against my jawline. “You’re adorable. And sexy. You’re intelligent, and talented. You’re good to me. I love all of those qualities and then some.”

  It sounds like a goodbye speech. Suddenly my stomach is doing flips.

  “With all that said, you’re also tough and ruthless on the ice and I need you to be that guy with my dad. Not an asshole, but a show-no-fear, committed man.” Cami’s tone has done a complete turnaround. Once sweet and reassuring, she now speaks in a clinical, play-by-play, take-no-prisoners tone that I’m used to. Hell, I’ve used it on many occasions with my own teams while drilling what we need to do to beat our opponents. Pointing her index finger in the air, Cami continues. “My dad will sense fear. Be that fierce Dominator you are on the ice. Just no boarding my dad.”

  Her attempt at humor falls flat.

  “Okay, Nicholas Alexander George. Listen up. You’re hell on ice. You are analytical, you know people, you use your instincts to your advantage. Do that today.”

  I am the Dominator.

  My balls are back, and my confidence has returned. “You’re really good at pep talks, you know that?”

  “You say that to all the girls.” Camille’s sass is in full form. Even though I know she doesn’t want to see her dad today, though she’s admitted to feeling like a failure in his eyes, she’s putting on a brave front.

  I match her brave front and add, “Only you. You’re my only, remember?”

  Kissing her before we leave the truck, my heartbeat quickens at her taste….Blueberries, the ones I fed her in bed for breakfast. And melon. She tastes sweet, and so sensual.

  “Come on kids!” A thud hits my truck and Cami and I both jump.

  Matty laughs. “Watch the PDA, Cams. Daddy’s here.”

  “Matty’s an annoying little—”

  Cami silences me with one more kiss. “Yes, he is and you’re going to fit in great. I promise.”

  We join Matty and cross the street to the park, which I scan. It seems like her family is the only one out here, and I don’t see anyone who appears to be in her dad’s age-group.

  “Where’s Dad?” she asks, surveying the scene.

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” A tall man with two children, a boy and a girl, ages TBD, hurries to catch up to us. “Hey, Cami.”

  Cami hugs him. “I’ve missed you, Mike.” Mike…eldest brother. I’m silently checking off the names in my head.

  “Aunt Cami! Aiden is running away,” the little brunette with a ponytail and a purple bow the size of her head announces.

  “Macy!” The little boy with dark hair and a Storm T-shirt is not happy. He’s Aiden, I presume.

  On the sidewalk, in front of the entrance to the park, Camille stops dead in her tracks. “Why are you running away, dude?”

  Aiden crosses his arms over his chest. “I hate homework.”

  “So do I.” Camille is animated as she kneels to his height level. “So, how much do you have in savings?”

  The kid mulls it over. “Savings?”

  “Yeah. How are you going to pay for your living expenses?”

  “His what?” Even Macy is confused.

  “Okay, little ones. Real Life 101. If you run away, you’ll need money for a place to live, food, and for utilities like electricity, water, Wi-Fi, Netflix—you know, those things you can’t live without.”

  I cough to cover my laugh. Glancing at Mike, I notice he, too, is trying not to laugh. “Yours?” I whisper to him.

  “God, no. These are Beth’s angels.” Mike shrugs toward a blond woman standing behind the fence, watching us with rapt attention. Now I’ve seen Beth. My list is getting smaller. The only sibling I haven’t seen is Ben, and his name is the easiest to remember. Ben Benetti. I thought my name was bad.

  “So, how are you going to pay for all of that?” Cami studies Aiden.

  The kid smiles, like a lightbulb just switched on. “My allowance.”

  “Dude, if you run away, you don’t earn an allowance.” Cami tickles him. “I think you need to rethink this whole running away thing. Along with your Storm fandom. Nighthawks rule, Aiden. Just saying.”

  The child laughs, and now Macy wants in on the action. “Tickle me!”

  Camille tickles both children until they’re howling with laughter. “Okay, let’s get you back to your mom.”

  Leaning into his aunt, Aiden mutters, “Don’t tell her, okay?”

  “Of course I’m going to tell your mom about this. Our conversation falls under your safety and well-being. Gotta tell her.”

  Aiden scratches his chin. “Then can you ask her to give me more allowance?”

  “You’ll need to do your own negotiations.” Camille laughs, standing.

  “Gotations—what’s that?” Aiden asks.

  “Great question, for your mom. Hey! Meet, Nick. Then off you go!”

  The kids wave at me and run through the gate shouting “Mom!”

  “Tell her all about our little chat.” Cami shouts after them, smiling at me. “See? Off they go. That’s a record. They usually dash off much earlier.”

  “They love you.” Mike pats his sister on the back. There’s a deeper meaning to his reassurance. He feels what I’m feeling right now…probably thinking what I am. That Camille is great with the kids. She lights up when she jokes with them, and they clearly love her. They were drawn to her immediately. It makes me feel…sad. For her. I didn’t really think much about it until now. What she lost, what would have been for her. Kind of insensitive of me, really. I should have considered her feelings more. Not that she’ll never be a mom. She can adopt. If we’re together, we can adopt—

  Holy shit, my mind went there. In record time. It’s too fast. At least that’s what my brain tells me, but my heart…no, it says I’m right where I should be with Camille. That my time may be limited and I need to jump in, or else I’ll never know what cou
ld have been.

  We never discussed if she still wants kids. Just that she’s accepted her prognosis. I didn’t want to dwell, and she seemed eager to forget. Still, it’s gotta be hard for her. Especially when she’s around her nieces and nephews.

  “I thought this was adult sibling day. Kids-free. Dad-free.” Cami scans the park and a group of middle schoolers on their tablets. “Your kids are here. Where’s Kayla?”

  Mike nods in the direction of Sally, who’s holding hands with a woman wearing a hot pink baseball cap and a wide smile. “With my law partner.”

  “Sally and Theo? When did that start?” Cami asks her brother.

  Mike laughs. “It’s new, but they’re—”

  “Perfect for each other. Why didn’t we see it sooner?” Cami turns to me. “My cousin and Mike’s business partner are standing with Mike’s wife Kayla. Sally and Theo, short for Theodora, always had fun at extended family functions, and I even encouraged Sally to ask Theo out once. She didn’t. You played matchmaker, didn’t you, Mike?”

  He smiles at her. “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

  “That’s Mike way of confirming said statement without actually confirming said statement,” Cami mutters to me.

  Kayla looks over at us and winks at Mike.

  Cami rounds on her brother, her eyes wide. “You’re back together? You and Kayla.”

  Nodding, Mike confirms it with a shit-eating grin. “We’re good again. So are Beth and Scott.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” Cami hugs her brother.

  “Oh my God, all this family cutesy stuff. Did you even notice I left and returned?” Matty asks.

  His question is drowned out by Sally’s squeals as she runs over to us. “Cami! We’re both here with significant others, and they aren’t assholes.”

  Hugging her cousin, Camille laughs. “What were the odds of that ever happening?”

  “We would have had better luck winning the lottery,” Sally matches Cami’s sass with her own. “Shush, she’s coming over.”