Bet on Ice (Boys of Winter Book 9)

by S. R. Grey

  “Oooh, I like where this is going,” I confess.

  And I do.

  This would definitely mean more one-on-one time with Landen.

  Maybe he’ll even kiss me again.

  If this place he’s speaking of is so desolate, there would surely be no interruptions.

  Landen appears pleased that I’m into his change of plans.

  “I knew you were my kind of girl,” he states quietly.

  My cheeks warm.

  I hope I’m not blushing again.

  I know I was earlier when he told me he dedicated the game to me and it made him play better.

  Even if it does embarrass me, I love that Landen just freaking says what’s on his mind.

  It’s refreshing.

  “So,” he continues, “what I’m suggesting is that we take the Ferrari out to that isolated part of the desert and get a little wild on the road. What do you say?”

  “I say hell yeah!”

  Landen starts smiling like crazy.

  And what a smile it is.

  It makes me want to give him more reasons to smile like that.

  I can think of a few that might accomplish it.

  Clearing my throat, I look away.

  Better not get too far ahead of myself.

  It’s just that Landen makes me want to cut loose.

  He brings out my wild side.

  I want to show him that aspect of me in more ways too, like in bed.

  Phew, it’s getting hot in here.

  Good thing he’s distracted, flagging down the waitress and asking for the check.

  My lusty thoughts will remain undetected.

  After Landen pays for dinner, we retrieve his car from the valet and head out to the deep, dark desert.

  When I look through the windshield, I see there’s a big full moon up in the sky. It’s huge and orange, and there are a billion stars around it, twinkling brightly.

  There’s definitely something romantic about this scene.

  And my heart is racing already.

  It pretty much stays the same way as we leave the bright city lights behind and travel to the back roads where the population becomes sparser and sparser.

  Soon it’ll be just Landen and me, the sports car, and this serene desert.

  I love it.

  When we reach what I assume is our destination—a long, perfectly straight stretch of paved road in the middle of nowhere—I’m more amped than ever that we changed our plans.

  This night is amazing already.

  Dinner was great, conversation was fantastic, and now I’m spending alone time with Landen as we’re about to open up the Ferrari on a dark, lonely road.

  I can only imagine what may come next.

  His lips felt so good on mine out there on the ice.

  He felt so good.

  I can’t quit thinking about that kiss.

  I need more.

  As I sigh longingly, Landen, having just pulled off to the side of the road, asks, “What are you thinking about over there? You’ve been really quiet since we left the restaurant. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  Is he kidding?

  “No way!” I exclaim. “Not even close.”

  “Good.” Slipping off his suit jacket, which takes a little work in the tight quarters, he then loosens his red tie and undoes the first two buttons of his shirt. “Though feel free to share what you are thinking about, pretty lady.”

  Er, um, I don’t think so.

  And now my thoughts are dirtier than ever having just watched him ditch his jacket and get more comfortable.

  I’d like to help him out of that dress shirt completely. His muscles look so big and defined beneath the crisp white cotton.

  I don’t say any of that, though.

  But I do share part of where my mind is when I tell him, “I’m just thinking that I can’t wait to see what this car can do.”

  He nods approvingly. “That’s the spirit. And trust me, Cricket, this car can do a lot.”

  I believe him.

  Even as we’re sitting here idling, I can totally hear and feel the power of the engine.

  Tapping the steering wheel, Landen asks, “Would you like to go first?”

  “Wait, what?” I stare over at him incredulously. “You’re going to let me drive your car?”

  “Well, yeah.” He laughs. “That’s the whole idea. It wouldn’t be too much fun for you to just sit over there in the passenger seat while I go wild. The thrill is in driving this car, Cricket.”

  I cringe. “Um, but what if I wreck it?”

  “You won’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He motions to the open road. “Look out there. This stretch here is long and straight. And, as you can see, there are no other cars. Nothing. It’s just you and me and”—he pats the dash—“this fine piece of automotive machinery, raring to go.”

  I quickly acquiesce. “Okay, you convinced me. I mean, how can I argue with that kind of reasoning?”

  “You can’t.” Peering over at me, he asks again, “So, should I go first, or do you want to have the honor?”

  Landen is so confident in me and my driving abilities. It’s quite trusting of him to allow me to drive his expensive car.

  And that just proves to me even more that he really is an amazing guy.

  Breathing in deeply, and then exhaling slowly, I say, “I’ll go first.”

  “Excellent. You’re going to have a blast.” Landen pops open his door. “Let’s switch places.”

  “Yeah.” I snicker nervously. “I guess that would help.”

  Yeesh, if I thought my heart was beating uncontrollably earlier…

  But once I find myself behind the wheel, my nervousness starts to dissipate.

  In fact, I begin to feel incredibly empowered.

  “I can see why you like this car,” I say, adjusting the seat and the rearview mirror.

  “Right?” As I’m reaching down and slipping my stiletto heels off, Landen adds softly, “You look really good over there, by the way.”

  “I feel really good over here,” I tell him, tossing my pumps into the back.

  I do feel amazing.

  I feel so good, in fact, that I come up with an idea for another wager.

  Hey, he did say we could still bet on something, right?

  Well, I have a good one.

  I’m not telling Landen, but if I win, I’m going to insist he take me to his bed tonight, no delays.

  I’m not saying that we have to fuck each other’s brains out—not yet, anyway—but I want to experience him in some kind of a sexual way.

  I think he’ll be cool with that.

  Nah, I’m sure he will.

  He is a man, after all.

  So let’s get this out on the table, Cricket.

  Smiling slyly, I say, “Before we begin, let’s make another bet.”

  Landen laughs. “Shit, you know I’m up for anything you have in mind.”

  I quickly qualify, “It has to be another wager where neither of us shows their hand, meaning we only tell what we want once one of us wins.”

  “Sure. That works for me. So what’s the bet?”

  Putting my foot on the clutch and the car in first gear, I say, “It’s easy and straightforward. Whoever hits the fastest speed out here wins.”

  With that on the table, I peel out.

  My Kind of Crazy

  The Ferrari takes off into the darkness, and Cricket and I are slammed back into our seats by the sheer g-force.

  Shit, this woman is crazy.

  But she’s my kind of crazy.

  I wonder what she’s going to ask for if she wins.

  I know what I want—I want her to be my girl.

  What I mean by that is I want for there to be no other guys in her life.

  I want a chance to woo her properly without competition.

  Not that I don’t think I’d pull ahead of any guy she’d potentially date. I just want her for
myself and undistracted by another man.

  But first I have to win.

  And I don’t know that I will.

  Cricket is fearless.

  We’re flying.

  It’s like we’re in a tunnel traveling at warp speed.

  Everything is a blur, the dark desert endless.

  I glance over at the speedometer.

  We’re going eighty, ninety, ninety-five…

  But right before we hit one hundred miles per hour, Cricket eases up on the gas.

  We stay at ninety-nine, then drop down to ninety-eight, ninety-seven…

  I start smiling.

  Now I know for sure that I am going to win.

  Slowing down to a steady thirty-five, Cricket exclaims, “Wow! That was exhilarating. I think I hit ninety-nine.”

  I confirm, “That sounds about right.”

  Slowing down even more and then easing off to the side of the road, the gravel on the berm crunching beneath the tires, Cricket stops and pulls up on the emergency brake, leaving the car idling in neutral.

  “You’re next,” she says, reaching to the back to retrieve her heels.

  She’s so damn confident. She thinks she’s got this thing sewn up, like I’m afraid to top one hundred.

  Ha!

  I let her gloat, though.

  “All right.” I open the passenger door, smiling to myself. “My turn.”

  “I can’t wait to see how you do,” Cricket says, still humming with excitement. “That was so much fun, Landen.”

  “You did really well,” I tell her as I start to get out of the car. “You were fearless.”

  Before I can exit, though, she catches my arm.

  I look over to see her raising a perfectly arched brow. “Thanks, but did I do well enough to win?”

  I shrug. “I guess we’ll see.”

  Before she can ask for elaboration, I hop out.

  Cricket gets out of the car as well, and as we pass in the back, she gives me a high-five. “Good luck,” she says, “but not too much.”

  That makes me chuckle.

  She doesn’t know what she’s in for.

  Ninety-nine mph is just getting started for me.

  I show her that when, a few minutes later, I’m the one accelerating down the dark road.

  Pressed back into our seats once more, I inch the speedometer up above one hundred.

  Cricket gasps out, “Holy crap, dude, you are so wild.”

  Ha, if she only knew.

  This is just the tip of the iceberg.

  Since she doesn’t sound scared, just wound up, I press the gas pedal down a little more.

  We hit one-ten, then one-twenty.

  But even I have my limits.

  I’m wild, but I don’t have a death wish for either of us.

  I ease up on the gas, slowing down considerably.

  Cricket blows out a breath. “Yeesh, I think you won, Landen. You definitely surpassed my ninety-nine.”

  “I did,” I agree, glancing over at her as we slow to a steady and super-safe twenty-five. “Were you scared?”

  Before she can answer, I pull off to the side of the road.

  While we sit idling, she blows out a breath.

  “No,” she says at last, “I wasn’t scared. Not really. Maybe a little nervous, but I knew I was in good hands.”

  “You were,” I assure her. “And you always will be. I always have control, and I’d never put you in any real danger. I mean, sure, driving that fast, there’s always a risk something could go wrong. But I wouldn’t be unnecessarily reckless.”

  “I know.” Cricket peers down at her lap. “Like I said, I feel safe with you.”

  Chuckling, I ask, “Even when we were going a hundred and twenty miles per hour?”

  She looks over at me, and, God, those eyes. They’re stunning even in the soft glow of the amber dashboard lights.

  I swear, from this day forward, I will forever remember her eyes and the shimmery sparkle of her silver dress in the orange moon glow.

  Softly, she says, “Yes, Landen, even then.”

  I want so much to lean over and kiss her, out here in the dark desert under the big full moon.

  But before I have the chance to do that, she asks, “So what do you want? You won the bet, so it’s your choice.”

  I raise a brow. “Do I get to choose anything at all?”

  She shrugs, her dress shimmering even more. “Yes, I guess so. We didn’t state that there’d be stipulations.”

  I warn, “You know this could be dangerous, right?”

  Smiling over at me, she says, “I know. But I told you that I trust you.”

  Man, I think she really does.

  That makes it real easy for me to then say, “Then be exclusive with me. Don’t go out with anyone else, okay? Give me a real chance, and let’s see where this can go.”

  Cricket is staring at me now, her big azure eyes wide. “Wow. You don’t just drive fast, you move fast too. This is only our first date, you know?”

  “I know.” I shrug. “But what can I say? Maybe I just know when something feels right.”

  “And you think this is right? You think we are right for each other?”

  I admit, “I do, Cricket. I really do.”

  She shakes her head. “Man, I don’t know. This is a lot to take in.”

  “Not really. And remember”—I wink over at her—“I did win the bet.”

  “Yes, you did.” She bites her lip, contemplating for a minute or so. At last, she says, “Okay, let’s give it a try. I agree to date you exclusively.”

  I knew she’d give in.

  Or at least, I hoped she would.

  “See,” I tease, “that wasn’t so hard.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She smiles at me. “I feel good about this—us—too.”

  Reaching over, I cup her cheek. “You won’t regret it, Cricket. I promise.”

  “You sound so confident,” she murmurs.

  “I am.”

  “And why’s that?”

  Leaning in, I press my lips to hers and tell her, “Because I am going to treat you so fucking well you won’t ever even think about another guy.”

  Sweet Release

  Hmm, that’s a tall order.

  Landen just told me he’s going to treat me “so fucking well” that I won’t ever even think about another guy.

  Well, so far, he’s right.

  His mouth feels so good against mine, and his kisses are amazing.

  The best part is that this time, there’s no one around to interrupt us.

  I can’t believe he wants me to date him exclusively.

  I can get into that, though.

  I think I just did.

  Mmm, yes.

  His excellent kisses continue.

  Still, a little part of me is worried.

  I like Landen. I like him a lot.

  But are we moving too fast, declaring exclusivity after only one date?

  Is this crazy?

  It probably is, but I don’t care.

  Not right now.

  This right here—his lips on mine, his hands winding in my hair, tugging desperately—feels too damn good to regret anything.

  Tilting his head, Landen captures my mouth from a different angle.

  Everything about him is perfection, from his rock-hard body to his tender and soft touches.

  He is a dichotomy that makes me want him so much more.

  And I mean right the hell now.

  We’re going to be exclusive, right?

  Why not just go for it?

  Groaning and gasping, I crawl up onto my knees in the passenger seat.

  My goal is to climb over onto Landen’s lap, but I can’t.

  It’s not my dress that’s in the way—the shimmery ruched fabric has enough stretch. It’s the stupid tight quarters of the Ferrari that’s affording me very little maneuvering room.

  Breaking apart, I state breathlessly, “Okay, this car is awesome and all, but it’s cl
early not made for this.”

  I motion to our bodies, and that makes Landen laugh.

  “Here,” he says. “Hold up a sec.” Sliding his seat back as far as possible, he hits a lever that raises the steering wheel up and out of the way. “Come on over now.” He pats his lap invitingly.

  Even though there’s barely any illumination and his pants are dark, I can tell he’s aroused.

  I want that.

  Hiking my dress up high enough to flash him my panties, and making him catch his breath, I climb over the console and straddle him.

  “What now?” I ask.

  “This,” he growls, his mouth covering mine.

  It’s like we can’t get enough of each other.

  I breathe him in, tasting him, my hands clutching at his wide chest, tangling in his silky dark blond hair, and then finally reaching down and grasping his rigid length.

  Yes!

  As I stroke him through his pants, Landen’s hands do wonderful things—rounding over the curve of my ass, lifting me up, trailing his fingers along my inner thigh.

  I undo his belt and unzip his pants, gasping, “I need your hand a little higher.”

  I know we can’t do all that much in the car, no matter how far back the seat goes, but my body is crying for some kind of sweet relief.

  As is his, based on how fucking hard he is.

  I slip my hand into his boxer briefs and realize it looks like I’ll be collecting on this bet after all, even though I didn’t win. I wanted something sexual to happen, and here we are.

  Landen’s fingers begin to inch closer and closer to where I want and need him so badly.

  But he’s moving oh so slowly.

  “Tease,” I moan.

  He stops for a second, pretending to be aghast. “Me, a tease? Never.”

  I growl, “Then touch me for real, damn it.”

  He does.

  And holy hell!

  The man knows what he’s doing—making me so hot I’m about to explode.

  It’s a slow burn, a torturous building.

  And I love it.

  Leaning my forehead against his shoulder, I gasp and continue to stroke his impressive length.