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Medal Up

Page 18

by Nicole Flockton


  “Belle?”

  All right, so maybe he recognized that much. “Hmm?”

  “You are so beautiful.” His husky tone still held the rawness of his earlier emotional storm.

  Oh God. She was going to melt into a puddle and die. Now.

  His thigh edged higher, the whisper of her smooth ski pants against the softness of his sweats somehow evocative of more. A pulse started low in her groin, beating in time with her excitable heart.

  Afraid to speak in case he turned cold again, she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his hands. Large hands, with long, elegant fingers. He took the message, cupping her, pinching her nipple through the fine wool. His muscular back was satin-smooth under her palms. She could feel the definition with the tips of her fingers tracing his broad shoulders and the hollow of his spine. A soft hiss from Bohdan marked her discovery of the dimples at the place where his buttocks vanished under the soft elastic of his track pants.

  His hand went to her waist, pulling up the sweater. She helped him, lifting her arms to make it easier. His gaze was on her chest. He really seemed to like her tiny breasts, squeezing them and taking one into his mouth. Warm and wet, his tongue teased the nipple, and heat shot from her breast to the core of her, prodding that pulse between her legs.

  He focused all his attention on her nipples, biting gently and licking, stimulating and soothing in turn. Her body reacted with bursts of warmth and a shivery chill that swept her skin with prickly heat. His hands wandered down, delving under her ski pants, fingering the little bow on her underpants before flattening against her belly to slide farther down under the smooth fabric.

  The touch of his fingers on her pulse point jolted her into a sudden awareness.

  “I haven’t . . . I don’t know what you like.”

  He stilled for a moment, his fingertip curling into the slick softness between her thighs. “You do not want this? I will stop.”

  Her body ached for more, her breasts and down low in her gut where liquid heat was building. Panic bit into her chest, speeding her heart.

  “No. Don’t stop. If you help me . . . Tell me . . . ”

  His eyes were dark and somehow tender. “I will help. If you wish it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay. We do this. Wait.” His accent was thicker than ever, his voice husky with what she hoped was passion.

  He moved off the bed in a swift movement that left her cold and exposed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I need to get condom.”

  Oh God. She hadn’t even thought about protection. So much for being a modern woman.

  He vanished into the bathroom, and she peeled off her ski pants and thermal leggings, leaving only her plain cotton pants. Pink with a bow. Not exactly alluring. She hadn’t been expecting a seduction at this point.

  She had barely dropped her clothes onto the luggage rack with her jacket when he loped back into the room. He went to the door into the hall, checking the lock, fumbling a little with the chain, a metallic clatter against the timber door. Tucking her knees up, she coiled her arms around them while she watched him.

  Was he nervous too?

  He came back to the side of the bed, a couple of small packets in his hand. He’d left the bathroom light on, so she could see him clearly now. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed and his skin even paler than usual. As if he knew, he averted his head, carefully laying the foil packets on the bedside table.

  “It is okay if you change your mind.”

  Belle shook her head before realizing he couldn’t see her with his head bowed.

  “I haven’t changed my mind.” This was harder somehow. More cold-blooded. Being swept away by passion was all very well, but she appreciated him checking.

  Still with face turned away, he dropped his sweatpants, leaving him in close-fitting undershorts that showed his arousal.

  “You are cold? You would prefer to be under the covers?”

  She took the hint and dived under the brightly colored doona, holding it up to her neck.

  A half smile curved his lips. “May I join you?”

  Heat washed up her face; she’d made it difficult to climb in. She released her death grip on the doona and pulled it back, inviting him in.

  There was a lot of him to fit into the narrow bed. She wiggled over against the wall, and he laughed as he pulled her back against him. His big body enveloped her, warming her. It was unexpectedly cool in the room. Too cold to be fully undressed for any length of time.

  He rubbed her back to warm her while his body heat radiated against her front. He wasn’t in a rush to resume their lovemaking, his gentle touch soothing and unhurried.

  “You are thawed, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  The glide of his hands changed almost imperceptibly to something sensual, slow strokes that shaped the length of her body, learning it. She hardly noticed the sweep of his hand pushing her underpants down over her bottom until the heat of his touch centered on the crease at the back of her thighs, probing forward, his fingers sliding easily between the slick folds.

  “You want me?”

  Embarrassment choked her voice into a high-pitched stammer. “Y-yes.”

  “It is good, kokhana. It will make things more pleasurable.”

  He took her hand and guided it between their bodies. His underwear had been removed, and she sucked in a nervous breath as he curled her fingers around the thick flesh jutting against her belly. It was firm and silky to touch and oddly arousing. The knowledge that he wanted her? Or simply the tactile sensuality of holding him cradled in her palm? She didn’t know. She only knew that the fierce groan that broke from him at her touch sent a blaze of heat to that sensitive spot between her legs.

  Her pelvis tilted, instinctively seeking out what it wanted. The ache intensified, but he held back, guiding her hand in slow, sweeping motions. “Soon.”

  His mouth sought hers, a soft brush and then a bite of her bottom lip. She opened to him, and he dipped his tongue into her mouth, the tip tracing along the inside of her lips, where it was most sensitive.

  “Please, Bohdan.”

  It came out muffled against the movement of his tongue, and his short laugh filled her mouth with his breath, peppermint and him. He seemed to be everywhere, his tongue building a sensual rhythm in her mouth, one hand between her legs and the other tugging her nipple. Her body was aflame, her mind barely coherent as she writhed against him, seeking more, seeking him. Wanting him to fill the aching darkness inside her.

  He hitched her knee up, twisting her onto her back, and his weight was heavy, holding her body down. He was slippery too. Ready. It meant he was ready. She lost her grip on him for a moment, and there was a crackle of foil, but he helped her find purchase on the smooth latex.

  “Guide me in. Slow. Slow.” His voice was rough and urgent.

  His hand was on hers, holding her back as she would have pushed up to take him in with all the need pulsating through her body. Something hovered just out of reach, promising pleasure, promising more.

  She twisted under him. “Please. Now.”

  “Slow, slow.”

  He eased into her, stretching her, filling her. There was no pain, only a feeling of exquisite fullness. A tightness that was almost pain but not. The ache grew, blending into the rhythmic pulse that drove her upward. She flung her arms around his neck to hold on, afraid to fall. His mouth swallowed the scream as her body flew, shuddering and writhing as sensation ripped through her, unfamiliar and uncontrollable.

  She slowly became aware of him inside her, barely moving. His gaze was on her face, and those silver eyes with their dark center captured her attention. As if her return from the heights was a signal, he began a steady thrust in and out, setting her body tingling. It was still pulsing, almost too sensitive after the first time.

  He was silent, his expression almost pained, never taking his eyes from hers. His hand found her center, a finger pushing down,
barely moving as his thrusts intensified, became jerky. The sensation was a slow climb of pleasure, meeting him at the peak as he groaned in release and buried his face in her throat. She was shaking with reaction, and as she stroked his arm, his hair, he trembled under her touch.

  He pushed away onto his side, one hand gripping the condom. “I go.”

  She watched him walk into the bathroom, steadying himself on the frame of the door before vanishing inside. The toilet flushed, and water ran in the basin. After the beauty of what had happened, it was oddly prosaic.

  She huddled under the doona that had slipped down while they were making love. Having sex? She wasn’t sure what it was. Apart from wonderful. She’d half expected pain, but with all her years of gymnastics and skating, it was probably to be expected that there wasn’t any drama. He’d been so gentle. Caring. It had to mean something.

  Bohdan returned from the bathroom, dragging long fingers through his mussed hair. His eyes widened as they rested on her, and a tinge of color mantled his cheekbones. “Uh . . . I guess you should go to your room and sleep. We have competition tomorrow.”

  He stood beside the bed, shoulders hunched. After a long moment, he reached for his track pants and pulled them on, seeming quite unselfconscious about his nudity. She should have hurried to dress while he was in the bathroom. She hadn’t expected instant dismissal. Maybe some cuddling and love talk. Talk about how she managed to have so much pleasure the first time. That wasn’t usual, from what she’d read and heard.

  She snorted. This was Bohdan. He didn’t do relationships, cuddling, or much talk at all. She darted a glance at the other bed, messy piles of clothes a reminder of his roommate. All the more reason to leave quickly.

  “Do you mind passing me my things?”

  He handed her the bundle of clothes and sat down on the armchair as if he were getting ready to watch a show. She was about to ask him to turn away when he picked up his phone. That was easy. It would take a bomb to distract him from whatever it was he did on the stupid thing.

  It took longer than she’d hoped to get dressed. In the end, she left off the thermal underwear. She was only going up a couple of flights, so she wouldn’t freeze.

  “I’ll head off then.” A glance at her watch showed it wasn’t even midnight. So much had happened it could have been forever.

  When she was ready, she hesitated by the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Usual time?”

  He was on his feet immediately, so fast that he was beside her before she could put her hand on the door handle.

  “Da, yes, usual time.” His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Thank you?

  That was all he had to say? She couldn’t even feel pain. That would probably come later, when the numbness wore off. “I better get going.”

  His finger stroked her cheek. “I am trying to thank you. For listening. For staying. I feel it is better. Here.” His hand shifted to rest on his chest.

  She stared at the bare skin that she’d kissed and stroked only a few minutes ago. “I’m glad.”

  Maybe later she would be. Now, she only wanted to escape. To think.

  Chapter 10

  She didn’t look rested. Bohdan handed Belle her skates and sat down to put on his own. He’d sent her back to her room so he wouldn’t be tempted to make love to her again. They needed to be fresh for today’s competition. But from the look of it, he’d wasted his breath. He’d had the best night’s sleep he could recall having in forever. Did that make him a first-class jerk? What had happened between them was amazing, but he couldn’t figure out what Belle was thinking. The run-through of their program first thing that morning had gone well enough technically, but she seemed disengaged. Had she been disappointed? He’d thought it had been good for her.

  Especially for a first time. That had to be what she’d meant when she’d asked for some guidance in pleasing him. It had been a kind of first for him too. Her trust had dug deep into his gut, bringing up feelings he hadn’t known were waiting to spill out.

  She had pleased him on every level. Not that she needed to work hard to do it. His body reacted at the smallest thing. Her perfume, her smile, the small lift of her breasts when she was huffing at something. Like now. She looked so cute. He could feel himself smiling. Not a good sign.

  Breathe. Focus. This was the final. They had one chance. He couldn’t afford to let what had happened last night distract him. It must be later. Later they would talk.

  She was ready before him, making her way to the edge of the rink for the warm-up. They were among the last to skate in the program, along with the other medal contenders. There had been no real surprises in the competition so far, so it all hinged on this final group.

  He touched her hand, and she turned, her brows forming a V. “Yes?”

  “We are good? You and me?”

  She stared at him. “Of course.”

  “We are friends? Yes?” He hoped she would not hear the uncertainty in his voice.

  Her smile blossomed, warming his chest. “Yes. We are friends.” She took his hand, lifting it to her face, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. The knots in his stomach eased. “We are good friends.”

  She turned slightly to watch the scores of the Chinese pair. He watched the numbers come up. Good but not exceptional. The machine was smoothing the ice for the next group. He stayed where he was, enjoying the sensation of Belle playing with his hand, rubbing it over her jaw, her throat. The kiss on his palm came as a shock, his body springing instantly to attention. With a smile that only exacerbated the problem, she lowered her hand to her side, keeping his firmly in her grasp.

  “You aren’t much on talking about the personal stuff, are you?”

  The question caught him on the raw. But she was right. “Does it matter?”

  “Not usually.” She grinned. “I can do enough for both of us.” She sobered immediately. “But at the moment, I really need some talking to happen.”

  “Now?” His glance flicked to the arena, where the other pairs were stepping onto the ice for the warm-up.

  She shook her head. “Not right now. Soon would be good.”

  He indicated the ice. “After, we will talk?”

  “After is good. If you really want to?”

  Relief flooded his chest. “I want to talk with you.” He had so much to say that he couldn’t last night, so full of unwieldy emotion he’d been afraid he would cry again. There was only so much shame he could bear in front of this girl, this woman.

  She tugged his hand as she stepped onto the ice, her smile wide. “Now, we skate.”

  • • •

  Belle breathed a sigh of something more than relief as she followed Bohdan around the ice, watching out for the other teams doing the warm-up. It was going to be all right. They would be all right. She’d thought long and hard about what had happened. Analyzing what had gone wrong at the cost of several hours’ sleep.

  Bohdan hadn’t done the lovey-dovey afterglow stuff she’d hoped for. But he’d had a pretty traumatic evening, and he wasn’t ever the chatty type. He’d probably gone as far as he could in terms of exposing his feelings for one night. It was his actions she needed to concentrate on, and there had been nothing wrong with the way he made love to her. The way he cared for her. Even the way he looked at her when he’d asked if they were okay. Her strong, silent type could speak with his eyes, and he was as nervous as she was about what was happening between them.

  He had promised to talk. Even seemed eager. It was enough for now. She could put it aside and concentrate on their skating program. Her parents were in the crowd with Simon’s family. The other three pairs were leaving the ice. In a few minutes, the culmination of all their efforts would be proven either way.

  They took up their starting pose and waited for the music. When they had first started training, this had been the hardest thing, staring into each other’s eyes like lovers. Now, it was easy. She saw so much now that she hadn’t been aw
are of before: tenderness and vulnerability behind the stoic expression. It was as if he had removed the mask for her.

  The first notes drifted across the arena, hushing the crowd. His touch electrified her as they went into the first elements. The feel of air rushing past them as they sped around the ice was almost as exhilarating as the look on Bohdan’s face as she landed the first jump perfectly. They were made to dance together, spinning and turning across the ice. The crowd roared as Bohdan lifted her high and tossed her into the triple Axel. She landed smoothly, gaining speed, and he joined her in the triple-double combo jump. They were nailing the required elements, and he’d thrown in some dance elements too. The music was building to a crescendo as she flung herself into him for the lift twist, with the split adding complexity. The reverse lasso brought another roar from the crowd as she and Bohdan segued into the finishing sequence with the classic death spiral, followed by a jump spin, and into each other’s arms for the final chords of the music.

  She could hardly catch her breath from the intensity of the moment. It didn’t matter in the end what their scores were. It had been souls meeting and loving on the ice. What he couldn’t say in words, he’d said in every touch, every look. Never had they been so in accord. He swooped down and kissed her, to the inevitable joy of the crowd, who whooped and hollered their approval.

  Together, they did a circuit of the ice, picking up flowers and stuffed toys, gifts from fans in appreciation of a great program. By the time they reached the holding area, the judges were finished conferring.

  The coach came and sat with them as the scores went up. Belle gripped Bohdan’s hand, their fingers interlaced. This was only the first challenge. The other three pairs still to come were all medal winners from the World Championships. She closed her eyes, but Bohdan hissed at her to open up.

 

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