Player on Ice

by S. R. Grey

  Shit, I do.

  I really do, especially as I’m watching her cute, hot pink bikini-clad ass bopping up the wooden patio steps. I swear it’s like she knows I’m gawking. Why else would she turn around and shoot me the bird.

  This woman.

  I shake my head and wave at her. But that just infuriates her further. Good.

  She plops down on a chair that’s partially hidden by the patio wall and a bunch of those ubiquitous freaking planters, so I can’t see much of her now.

  “Damn.” I turn back to face the turquoise water, and that’s when I realize I’m sporting some pretty impressive wood.

  Cara is going to be the death of me if I don’t eventually get to have her. Or maybe I just need to get laid in general. Too bad Cara’s the only female on the island. Well, besides the housekeeper. But she’s about seventy, so yeah, no. That’d exceed even my top-range cougar limit.

  So we’re back to Cara.

  Too bad she’s not an option. With our off-the-charts sexual chemistry, kindled by our never-ending fighting, I just know sex with her would be amazing. We could fuck and fight, fuck and fight. She’s like a hockey player’s wet dream. Well, she’s this hockey player’s wet dream.

  Consumed with thoughts of Cara, which I really need to put a stop to, I close my eyes and drift off to fantasyland.

  But suddenly, out of the blue, I’m awoken by a bloodcurdling scream from up on the patio.

  What the fuck?

  Next there’s a loud barrage of “Help, help!” cries.

  God, no! That’s Cara!

  I fly out of the chair and race up to the patio. But it’s like a nightmare getting there. The sand is thick and deep, slowing me down.

  “Jaxon, please, hurry.”

  “I’m coming, Cara. Hold on.”

  I finally get through the sand and clamber up the wooden steps to find Cara standing in the middle of the patio, her bronzed body shaking.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, since I see nothing amiss.

  She points to a corner of the patio. “Look over there.”

  I peer down. There are two side-by-side planters, but nothing looks out of the ordinary.

  Oh, no, maybe poor Cara has sunstroke.

  “Uh, those are just planters,” I say slowly, like I’m talking to a toddler.

  “I know that,” she snaps, waving her hand impatiently. “Look between them, you fool.”

  “Fool?”

  She blows out a breath. “Okay, I didn’t mean that. But look again, Jaxon, to the right of the big terra-cotta pot. Do you see it now?”

  I look, see nothing off, and murmur a questioning, “Um, no?”

  Cara grows impatient. “Jaxon, look closer. How can you not see that a poor little lizard is stuck in some kind of a-a…trap.”

  She spits out the last word like it’s poison on her tongue.

  And finally I see what she’s referring to—there’s a small green lizard stuck, struggling in the gloppy glue of one of those infernal traps.

  “Damn it all to hell,” I grind out as I crouch down to get a better look. “I knew this would happen. That’s why I got rid of those things. Or so I thought…”

  “Where’d a trap like that even come from?” Cara asks as she moves to stand behind me.

  “The groundskeeper put a bunch of them out the day he was here.”

  “But why?” she queries.

  “Apparently, he thinks the lizards are pests.”

  Cara’s spitting mad now.

  “That’s bullshit, Jaxon. And even if they were, they’re God’s little creatures and have a right to be here too. In fact, they were probably on this island before anyone ever built anything.”

  Wow, she sure is passionate. I wish I could tell her to release that passion on me. But that’d probably end with another one of her self-imposed exiles. And I don’t want that.

  So I just agree, “I’m sure they were.”

  Cara’s not done yet, though.

  “Didn’t you inform the groundskeeper that we don’t believe in inhumane things like glue traps?”

  We’ve actually never discussed it, but I find it endearing that she knows we’re on the same page—which, of course, we are.

  “I did,” I reply. “But he put them out anyway.”

  Like she’s just remembering what I said earlier, she murmurs in awe, “And you went around and threw them all away?”

  Whoa, what’s that I hear? Is it appreciation for my forward thinking? I think it might be.

  And then I know for sure that it is when I glance up and Cara’s smiling down at me. It’s a nice genuine smile too, not a smirk or a wicked grin.

  “I did,” I confirm. “But I must have missed one.”

  “Still, that was very sweet of you, Jaxon,” she quietly states.

  Not being a smartass at all, I reply with a sincere, “Thanks.”

  Nodding to the lizard, who is peering up at us with frightened, beady eyes, she says, “Do you think you can save him?”

  “I think so, sweetheart.”

  Wow, that’s like the first time I’ve used that term of endearment in a non-snarky way.

  I have to laugh. Leave it to a lizard to bring us together. Perhaps I should thank the groundskeeper.

  Filing that away as something to consider for later, I get to work on the task at hand—saving the trapped lizard.

  “We’re going to need some oil,” I tell her.

  “What kind?” Cara asks.

  I glance around and spot the bottle of baby oil that’s over on the ground by her chair.

  Gesturing, I say, “That one should do.”

  I guess our reprieve from arguing is over, since we get into a heated debate over what kind of oil to use. She thinks the baby oil is no good.

  “His skin might burn once he’s back in the sun, Jaxon.”

  “He’s a leathery reptile,” I counter. “He spends his whole day in the sun.”

  “Yes,” she agrees, “but he doesn’t do so with baby oil slathered all over his little body.”

  I roll my eyes. “I wasn’t planning on slathering him in it, Cara. I was just going to use a drop or two to help free him.”

  She huffs. “I just don’t know. I thought it’d be okay for me to use baby oil today, seeing as I have such a good base tan, but look at me now. I’m already a little pink.”

  She leans over to where I’m crouched.

  Great.

  Here I am trying to be her gentlemanly knight in shining armor, and she’s directing my attention to her shapely breasts, which are totally spilling out of her skimpy bikini top…and in my freaking face!

  Fuck gentlemanly.

  Perv that I so clearly am, I say, “Can you lean in a little closer? I can’t really tell.”

  Not catching on to my wicked ways, she complies and her absolutely luscious tits are so close now that if I were to lean forward, even an inch, I could wrap my mouth around the nipple that’s peeking over the edge of her bikini top on the left side.

  But no, wait.

  I shake my head.

  Now is not the time for making moves. We have a situation here, and a golden opportunity for me to be a hero. If I play my cards right, I could have those delectable mounds in my mouth every single night, along with some other surely equally delectable parts of Cara.

  She’ll want to reward her knight in shining armor, right?

  So I restrain my urges and just stare at her skin. “Yeah, it’s a little reddish.”

  “See!” She straightens victoriously, adjusting her top. Damn. “Baby oil won’t work for the lizard,” she declares.

  “Okay, okay. What do you suggest instead?”

  “I don’t know. Let me get my phone. We can google it.”

  We do exactly that and discover we’re going to need more than oil for this operation. To free the lizard in a safe manner for all involved, we’ll need vegetable oil, dish soap, and a deep plastic bowl.

  After Cara finds those items in the house, I s
pread them out in front of us. But before I can dive in to the rescue operation, she stops me.

  “Wait, there’s one more thing.” She hands me a thick pair of gardening gloves and smiles kindly. Not wickedly or like she’s up to something, just a cute caring smile.

  “You don’t want to get bit, Jaxon.”

  “No, that wouldn’t be good.”

  I slip on the gloves, appreciative of her thoughtfulness. “Where’d you find these, anyway?” I ask.

  She points to around the side of the house. “The groundskeeper keeps a supply box over there. I noticed it a long time ago. Anyway, I figured there’d be gloves in there.”

  “That was some smart thinking,” I say. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Jaxon.”

  We share a smile, and then I take a deep breath and get started on freeing the lizard.

  It goes really well. The oil, of which I use only a dab, helps to free his little feet. Of course, he then attempts to run away.

  “Wait, you’re not done yet, little buddy.”

  I grab hold of him and place him in the plastic bowl so we can clean him off. It’s like a coordinated operation now. We’re a real rescue team.

  Cara hands me the dish soap so I can clean off the excess oil from our little friend. I keep the gloves on, even though he doesn’t try to bite me. I think he knows we’re trying to help him.

  But still, better safe than sorry.

  After we rinse off his feet with a trickle of water from the hose, we let him go, proclaiming the operation a success.

  That night, I call Noel. He’s none too happy to learn of the groundskeeper’s actions.

  “Don’t worry,” he tells me. “I’ll make sure he knows not to ever again put out any kind of lizard trap.”

  I’m glad, but what’s more important is Cara will be pleased. I like seeing her happy, and I like doing things for her. She may drive me crazy, but it’s time to admit that she really does mean something to me.

  I just need to figure out exactly what.

  Who Needs Food When You Have Love?

  I can’t deny that Jaxon saving the lizard melts my heart.

  He’s not a bad guy after all. He’s a sweet and caring man.

  I think I’ve always known that in my heart. But if that’s true, why do we fight so much?

  “I don’t know,” I murmur to myself as I’m blow-drying my sun-highlighted hair.

  I’m up in the bathroom that’s connected to my bedroom, readying to head back downstairs.

  After the successful lizard-saving operation, Jaxon suggested we indulge in a celebratory dinner. I agreed but wanted to shower and change first. He said he would like to do the same.

  But he’s clearly beaten me, seeing as the savory aromas of burgers on the grill are wafting up to my bedroom.

  I sigh.

  That man sure can cook, which is another plus in his favor.

  “Wait.” I stop and stare at my reflection in the mirror. “Why am I counting up all the good things about Jaxon Holland?”

  Better not answer that.

  No. I stop myself. Not this time. I am going to answer the question, damn it. It’s high time I admit I have feelings for Jaxon, like real feelings. I just don’t know if I should act upon them. For obvious reasons—can you say Mr. Hockeypants?

  As I shimmy into a bright yellow, crisscross-backed sundress, I accept that the only thing holding me back is the same as before—my secret blog identity.

  If I just tell him, it’d no longer be a concern.

  But what if it doesn’t go well?

  Then we’re back to square one.

  See, this is where I always stall. I’m scared to death of his reaction. And I’m afraid of the fallout.

  “We’re getting nowhere here,” I grumble as I leave my room and start down the stairs.

  Little wonder that by the time I’m walking into the kitchen, I’m chewing my lip, consumed by worry and confusion on how to proceed.

  Since not much goes unnoticed by Jaxon, he glances up from where he’s plating burgers, catches me nibbling at my lip, and says, “Is everything okay, Cara?”

  “Yes, yes.” I wave my hand like I’m sweeping away his concern. “I’m just overthinking crap is all.”

  He raises a brow. “Care to elaborate?”

  Is he nuts? “I don’t think so.”

  “All right, but you know overthinking shit isn’t always bad. Not if you can reach a resolution on whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

  I realize that’s the problem—I never reach a resolution. I just overthink, overanalyze, and end up back at square one.

  Fuck it.

  I’m going with my gut from now on.

  “You know what,” I proclaim, smiling like a loon. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “Wow, you look rather happy all of a sudden,” he says.

  “I am, Jaxon,” I confirm. “I am.”

  “Does this mean you reached a resolution?”

  “I sure did. I decided to stop with all the overthinking and just go with what my heart’s been telling me to do for a long time now.”

  Ooh, he looks really curious.

  “What does that mean?” he asks, our eyes meeting.

  I take a deep breath, and then I blurt out in a rush of words, “It means I’m tired of fighting the inevitable.”

  His eyes bore into me, and I swear he already knows what I mean. It’s like he knows I’m referring to him…to us.

  Swallowing hard, he steps out from behind the counter, looking gorgeous, as always. His hair’s a little damp, making it appear darker than its usual sandy brown shade. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a royal blue tee, which shows off his bronze skin perfectly. Jaxon’s tan, like me, but so very buff, so freaking hard.

  I watch as his defined leg muscles flex when he takes a purposeful step toward me.

  When he’s less than a foot away, he stops and rasps, “So what is your heart telling you to do at this very moment, Cara?”

  I stare at his bare feet, tan like the rest of him. Then I glance up, chuckling nervously. “Uh, it’s telling me to do a lot of things.”

  He whispers, “Name just one.”

  Just as softly, I respond, “Well, right now, my heart’s telling me those burgers can wait.”

  He cocks a brow. “And…?”

  “Hey, you said I only had to name one.”

  He shrugs. “I lied. Tell me one more.”

  It’s time to be more honest with him than I’ve even been with myself.

  I take a deep breath, and say, “My heart’s telling me I should kiss the heck out of you right now, since you’re so freaking close.”

  “Shit, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I agree. Your heart is abso-fucking-lutely right.”

  I let go, in more ways than one. I take a freaking step forward and kind of fall into Jaxon. I trust him now, and I trust me. I’m also trusting that fate will let this all work out in the end.

  But damn, even if it doesn’t, this is still good. I’m about to have a fabulous experience, I’m sure.

  And fabulous it is when Jaxon lowers his mouth to mine.

  Yes.

  Our lips meet hungrily, and his hand snakes into my hair, where he tightens and tugs in synchronization with the dance our tongues decide on.

  At one point, I gasp into his mouth, “Unh, Jaxon,” and he swallows my words like he’s devouring the essence of me.

  Pretty soon he’s just straight-up devouring me, pulling up my dress, hoisting me onto the counter and urging me back.

  I lie back and let him take the lead, which he does.

  Swiftly, he slides my panties down my legs. He’s like a man who knows what he’s doing now…and knows what he wants. He’s not going to let this get derailed.

  It’s intoxicating, this unbridled Jaxon. I guess he’s letting his heart dictate his actions as well.

  Good. I want wild abandon tonight on both our parts.

  “More,” I moan against his mouth whe
n he resumes kissing me.

  He stops long enough to rasp, “Oh, I have more for you, sweetheart. Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours.”

  He winks and disappears down my body.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I say all innocently, like I don’t know.

  But then the games stop when I feel the heat of his tongue pressed to my clit.

  “Oh, God…”

  It’s so good that I just about melt into the counter and fall apart right then and there. This has been such a long time coming. Jaxon Holland is actually down between my legs, doing sinfully delicious things with his mouth.

  And then he adds a finger.

  Gah!

  “Does that feel good?” he asks, his lips vibrating against my swollen clit as he pauses.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

  I think I get my point across since he chuckles, and then resumes what he was doing. And doing so well.

  When I come apart, I scream out his name. I keep coming and coming, even when he stops. But when he sees me still shuddering, he shoves a finger back inside roughly, the way I need it now.

  “Fuck, Jaxon…”

  “That’s right, baby. Keep coming for me.”

  I finally stop, but now I’m so open and ready for him. I’m like putty in his hands. And I want him to mold me.

  “I want all of you, Jaxon,” I cry out. “Please.”

  He nods and has me wrap my shaky legs and arms around him so he can carry me into the living room.

  When he lets me down in front of the sofa, I stand on uneasy legs, like a newly born fawn.

  Shakily, I raise my arms so he can lift my dress up and off of me. And then I regain some strength, enough to tug his shirt over his head while he’s taking off his shorts.

  When his cock springs free, rigid and hard, I just freaking stare and stare.

  “Babe,” he says, chuckling, “it’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

  “Not up close like this,” I remind him, a little breathless…and a lot impressed. “Plus, I’m kind of surprised you don’t wear boxer briefs or some kind of underwear.”

  He laughs. “Back home I do, but I’ve been going commando around here.”

  “Mmm, maybe I should try that too,” I muse.

  “I highly encourage it, Cara.” Jaxon drops to his knees. “It’ll make it easier for me to do things like this at a moment’s notice.”