HOT ICE: Complete Sporting Romance Series

by Lily Harlem

I stared at the scar on his lip. Wondered what he was going to do next. Wondered what I was going to do next. Neither of us could do what I wanted to happen. That was against our rules. We’d set them out clearly enough the evening before. We’d got each other out of our system. That box was ticked.

  “I wish you’d told me,” he said with a frown.

  “About what?”

  “About the financial problems the Vipers have and that was my contract issue, not that you hated my guts.”

  “I don’t hate your guts.” I paused. “But what would it have changed if you’d known about the team’s money, or lack of money?”

  He swallowed, his nostrils flared and then he lowered his head. “In New York, outside your hotel room.” He licked his lips, breathed out. “I would have understood, and when I just couldn’t fucking stop myself from kissing you, it would have been like this.”

  He closed his eyes and touched his mouth to mine, holding my head secure as he gently, slowly, eased the tip of his tongue between my lips, sought my tongue and set up a sultry dance.

  I released his neck, curled my hands around his forearms and felt as if I was floating. The stroke of his tongue was dreamy, the movement of his mouth was making my knees weak. I would never have thought a guy built like an ogre could kiss with such tenderness, such delicate attention to every tiny whispering touch of his lips.

  When he eventually pulled back, I gasped for breath. The same way I had when he’d ravaged me.

  He was breathing a little fast, too.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You can slap me now if you want.”

  “I don’t want to slap you,” I managed. “And don’t apologize, just kiss me like that again.”

  He smiled briefly and then did just that, capturing my lips in a kiss that was so much more than a meeting of mouths. It admitted that we couldn’t fight this desperate need for each other anymore. We’d surrendered to it. The white flag was waving even if just for the here-and-now on Honeysuckle Key. We had to be together, like two souls who’d been searching, two bodies, two halves. This was meant to be.

  He spread the kiss from my mouth to my cheek, tipped my head and explored the patch of skin just below my right ear.

  I shivered as desire wound through me. The way he held my face, as though he owned me, sent new darts of excitement whipping through my soul.

  “I felt it the minute I saw you, sweet cheeks,” he murmured. “This attraction, this feeling of I-want-you, I-have-to-have-you, you-will-be-mine.”

  “You weren’t even nice to me.” I slid my hands up his arms to his shoulders.

  “Self-preservation. Who’s allowed to get the hots for their boss, huh? Who’s allowed to have visions of the woman who signs their paycheck naked, legs spread, pussy damp and breasts heaving?”

  Oh God, is that what he’d been thinking in the locker room?

  “It’s complicated,” I managed. “I’ll admit that.”

  “Story of my life.” He extended my neck a little more and dropped honeyed kisses to my collarbone.

  I ran my hand over his short, sharp hair.

  “I joked around, teased you,” he said. “It’s worked in the past to get the girl, but not you, eh?” He untangled his fingers from my hair, stopped kissing me and traced the strap of my bikini top from where it rested on my shoulder down to the frill on the cup. “You’re a different kettle of fish.”

  “Ick, don’t mention fish.”

  He kind of smiled, but he seemed to be concentrating on the way the red dotty material covered my breasts rather than what I’d said. He dipped his finger beneath the cup and stroked my breast, not quite catching my nipple.

  I inhaled deeply, wishing he’d touched me lower on my breast and caught that tight nub that was becoming greedy for attention.

  “I wanna fuck you again. No rushing, just taking my time,” he said, his breath washing down on my chest. “Do all the things I’ve been thinking of doing and then some more I haven’t fantasized about yet, but know I will when we get started. I want to do it slow, so slow you’ll feel like time has stood still, and when I make you come, it will go on and on and on, forever. It will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

  Oh fuck. Had he been taking lessons from Henri? That was the kind of thing he used to say. Was it? No, this was much better, because Dustin was saying it in a way that made me feel as if I was the only woman he’d ever uttered those words to. He made me feel special, precious, as though he’d just been handed a ticket to Heaven and I was it.

  “It’s breaking our rules,” I managed.

  “Fuck rules. They were made to be broken.” He straightened to his full height and released me. A serious, I-mean-business expression etched over his face. “You going over my shoulder again, or are you walking?”

  “Walking,” I said quickly, “I’ll walk.”

  He took my hand and marched us in silence across the sand. I was wet between my legs, but I had no idea what was seawater and what was arousal.

  He was going to make me come in a way that made it last forever? He’d been thinking of doing things to me. When had he thought about that? In between calling me sweet cheeks, saving me from muggers or swimming in the sea?

  I didn’t care. I just wanted some of his promises and I had no doubts that he could deliver. His ego was big, but as I’d found out, that was well justified.

  He stamped across the deck and stopped to rinse the sand from his feet. I followed, did the same, and quickly realized the deck bed was out for whatever he had planned. In fact, he paused to shut the patio doors and flick the lock before he tugged me into the bedroom he’d been using. I was at a near jog by that point and wondering at how he’d thought sanely enough to lock out the world.

  “I thought you said slow?” I said.

  “It will be, when you get on the bed.” He spun around and dragged me close. “Fucking hell, woman what have you done to me?”

  “Nothing intentionally.” I rested my hands on his chest and was delighted when I felt his hard cock nudging my stomach, straining against those awful green trunks.

  My bikini top slackened then slipped down. He’d unclipped it at my nape.

  “I missed out last time,” he said, cupping both of my breasts. “I didn’t get quality time with these puppies.”

  “Puppies? I—”

  He cut me off with another one of his lethally slow, seductive kisses that made cognitive thought a thing of the past. Screw it, he could call my breasts puppies every day of the week if it meant I could have this sensation.

  He massaged and squeezed, getting it just right and catching my nipples between his fingers, pulling, stretching, the exact amount to make me groan into his mouth.

  “I need you on the bed,” he murmured against my cheek. “Be there naked by the time I get back.”

  He left me and stalked from the room. I missed his body heat and his touch, and stared at the space he’d just inhabited.

  “Naked,” I murmured. “I can do that.”

  It only took a second to strip off my little bikini bottoms and I kicked them away and crawled onto the plus-sized bed. I’d never slept in this guest room at the front of the house. The furniture was mainly wicker, the headboard made of bamboo slats. There was a large potted plant near the window and the curtains were white with a leaf pattern similar to the real plant.

  I stretched out flat on my back, pointed my toes and raised my arms, pushing them over my head and arching my spine feline style. The sheets were silky and cool, the pillow deep. I could just make out Dustin’s cologne on the slip.

  “Mmm, perfect.” Dustin was back at the door. “You look ready for a damn good seeing to, sweet cheeks.”

  I grinned and relaxed my posture. It no longer bothered me, sweet cheeks, especially when he said it with such a sinful glint in his eyes and with such a tenting in his trunks.

  He walked to the bedside table and set down a glass containing ice cubes. “Just so we’re clear,” he said. “
Are we using condoms for this?”

  “No, no, I…”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I will if that’s better for you.”

  “No, I want to feel you, your dick, flesh against flesh.”

  He half smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Didn’t wanna be presumptuous though.”

  “Because that wouldn’t be in your nature at all, would it?”

  “Sassy minx,” he said, opening the bedside drawer. “You’ll pay for that.”

  “I hope so.”

  He pulled out a handful of silk scarves, various pastel colors. “What are they for?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Are they yours?”

  “Nah, I found them last night when I was looking for something to read.”

  “Oh.” I wondered if they were Giselle’s, but more likely just forgotten by one of Mom and Dad’s guests over the years.

  “They gave me an idea,” Dustin said. “As soon as I saw them, just one of the fantasies I told you about.” He climbed onto the bed and straddled my chest with his legs.

  His shorts were damp on my body, his legs as solid as trunks against my ribs.

  “Keep your hands up, like that,” he said, sliding a pale lemony scarf beneath my wrists.

  “What are you doing?” I had a pretty good idea, but still, I liked hearing his voice when it was dripping with lust and rough with determination.

  “Tying you down. You’ll be glad I did.” His gaze caught mine. “Can you cope with that?”

  “Yes, I trust you.”

  “Really?” He acted surprised.

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

  I jerked a little as he tightened a knot that secured my arms above my head. I twisted and glanced up, saw that he’d threaded the scarf through one of the bamboo slats.

  “They’re only made for this,” he said, “these headboards. Not exactly comfortable to rest back on, only good for tying sexy ladies exactly where a guy wants them.” He tipped forward and kissed me. “Close your eyes.”

  Heart racing, I did as he’d asked. Soft material pressed down over my face. I was sure it would be taking away my vision if I were to open my eyes. But I didn’t, I kept them shut, happy to fall into a world that relied on my other senses.

  He was breathing hard, obviously excited. He smelled of the sea and of man, salty and fresh, a little of hot flesh, too.

  Another kiss pressed against my lips and I drank in his flavor, wondering in that moment if I would ever get enough of this badass player of mine. He could become addictive.

  He broke the kiss and his weight lifted. I tried to follow what he was doing and moved my head, straining for any clue.

  There was a clink of ice on glass, then he scooped my right breast into his hand. A sudden chill on my erect nipple had me catching my breath. The cold seemed to dart right to the center of my chest. I wanted more, but at the same time it was too much.

  He lifted it away and then the suckling heat of his mouth caressed my taut nipple. But only for a second because then the ice was back, circling around my twisted stalk. The weight in my breast felt as though it had increased. I moaned a little, then bit my bottom lip.

  “So sexy,” he murmured, switching to the other breast. “You’re so responsive to ice.”

  “Figures,” I gasped as he tweaked my nipple and then rubbed the cube over it.

  He set his mouth over the cold flesh. I tried to reach his head, urge him on, stroke his hair, but as soon as I tried I remembered my harnessed wrists. I jerked my shoulders but moved nowhere.

  He chuckled. “Oh, frustration so soon.”

  “No, I…I wanted to touch you.”

  “You’ll get your chance. Right now this is all about me touching you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I was tied to Dustin “Speed” Reed’s bed, naked and desperate for him. This was all about him touching me, so he’d just said. My pussy was damp, my internal muscles contracting around nothing and my belly was coiled with anticipation.

  What girl wouldn’t be feeling like a loaded spring?

  He slid the ice cube all around my breasts, not just the nipples but also the outer curves, my sternum and the heavier side slopes, tracing patterns, figures of eight and spirals.

  I was hot and cold at the same time. My flesh was goose bumps and hypersensitive. He’d made my breasts his main focus, the area of my anatomy most turned-on.

  I writhed and arched for his touch, lost in my own dark world and focusing on him.

  I heard a crunch and then his cool lips touched mine. He’d eaten the cube that had slipped over my flesh and then fed me the lingering watery flavor.

  “Ready for more?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Again the chink of ice and then my navel chilled. He kissed my breasts as he made a slippery snaking trail of cold across my belly to my hips and then back to the indent of my stomach.

  I tugged at the silk around my wrists, wanting more, needing him to take this thing lower.

  He huffed a little, as though sensing my frustration. “Getting impatient?”

  “No, I…” My words trailed off as he eased the cube into the thin strip of hair above my slit. “Yes.”

  “I’m a generous guy,” he said, “when it comes to pleasure.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  The ice touched my clit. Not briefly, but a hard, solid pressure.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, tipping my hips up and then away. “Dustin.”

  “I’m gonna make this sweet little go-button of yours deliciously cold and then so burning hot you’ll think you’re on fire.”

  Even though I’d wriggled he’d held the ice in place. He’d shuffled downward, too, between my legs, shoving at my inner thighs with his elbows until I was spread open, the tendons in my hips aching the sweetest amount.

  “So pretty,” he said. “You should see yourself.”

  I squirmed and canted my hips, ready for the ice to move.

  He took the hint, set it on a ride down through my folds, every crease and crevice becoming moist and cool. It was like no other sensation I’d ever felt.

  He tucked the ice into the first dip of my entrance and placed his lips over my clit, then sucked long and hard.

  Now I was glad to be tied down. I’d have hit the ceiling, I was sure. The heat of his mouth pulling me in was like a wild injection of lust into my veins. Hot and cold combined and made me shiver and jerk, thrust my hips for more, pull back because of the burning pressure.

  He forced my legs down, stretching me wide, and flicked my clit within the suction of his mouth.

  “Oh, oh, oh…” I managed and then squeezed my lips tight together. I was spinning, lost in what he was doing.

  His fingers were busy again. Moving that cube around, touching it to the smooth patch of skin between my pussy and my anus.

  An orgasm was beckoning. The pressure was building into a deep, profound climax that was getting ready to detonate.

  I didn’t know where the ice cube was now. It was just his fingers and his mouth on me. Where he’d learned to work a clit with such skill I had no idea. I wasn’t even sure what he was doing, all I did know was that I didn’t want him to stop. It was too damn good.

  A sudden filling in my pussy tipped me nearer to the edge of bliss. My stomach was tight and my chest heaving. I wasn’t sure how much more my spine could bow.

  It was there, the topple into ecstasy was inevitable.

  I clenched my fists, held my breath and let pleasure rip through my body, giving into it absolutely. He stayed with me, finger-fucking me, drawing my clit into his mouth, rippling his tongue over it as it pulsed. He was pressing on my mound with his palm too, and that seemed to capture my orgasm, hold it there, extend the mind-shattering, consuming delight.

  “Oh, oh, fuck, yes,” I cried, thrashing my head from side to side. “Fuck, keep going.”

  I was dizzy, everything felt s
urreal. I wrapped my legs around his back and banged my heels against his torso.

  My pussy was throbbing, clamping his fingers. I could feel and hear the moisture weeping from me. It felt as though every muscle in my pelvis was thumping, pounding, my asshole contracted, my inner thighs were tense against his shoulders.

  “Ah, ah…” I panted. “I need… Fuck… Dustin… Stop.” I was losing myself. That was it. The sensations were so powerful my body had to have a reprieve.

  He lifted up, releasing my clit but keeping his fingers wedged high. I tried to look at him but of course my world was dark behind the silky scarf.

  “You come so beautifully,” he said. “Who would have thought my uptight boss lady could be so wanton?”

  “Only…wanton…because of what…you’re doing,” I managed.

  He chuckled and stroked his thumb over my clit.

  A full body tremor shook its way through my torso and limbs. “Oh God,” I groaned.

  Suddenly his face was over mine. I could smell myself on his breath and feel his heat on my lips and cheeks.

  “If only you could see yourself,” he whispered. “You look amazing, a beautiful, trusting allowing herself to be pleasured. How does it feel to have given yourself up so totally?”

  “It…it feels amazing,” I said, lifting my face for a kiss.

  He gave it. Still massaging my pussy, he licked over my mouth, my teeth and then tangled his tongue with mine.

  I groaned, it was completely uninhibited and I reveled in feeling so comfortable with him that my basic instincts could surface unimpeded.

  Eventually he pulled from my pussy.

  I was hot, wet, sweaty and panting, and when he tugged at the blindfold I blinked in the harsh light of the room. I’d been lost in my black world, had folded in on myself, shrunk into a mass of sensation and been swept along on a whirlwind of desire, desire that had been stoked and fed by Dustin.

  He grinned down at me. His pupils were wide, his lips damp and his cheeks held a red flush. “You okay?”

  “Never better.”

  He grinned in a way that held more than a smidgen of male pride. But that was okay, he should be proud, that was one hell of a way to make a girl come.