Forbidden on Ice - SR Grey

by Grey, S. R.

  Moaning, I grab Blake’s hard-as-steel ass.

  He catches his breath, his lips faltering, but only for a beat. Catching up to me quickly, he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down to my hips.

  I want him to move a little lower, maybe even lift up my dress and touch me where I ache for him. It’s crazy how much this man turns me on. I’m so ready for him to take me to bed and do unspeakable things to my body.

  But no, this isn’t the night for that.

  This is a new start, not a potential one-night stand like last night was shaping up to be.

  I’m glad, actually.

  I no longer want simple.

  I’m not looking for a one-and-done deal, not anymore.

  I want more from Blake Cavaletti.

  I wouldn’t risk Noel finding out if I didn’t think he was worth it.

  That’s why I want to put in the time and see where this goes.

  So, even though my body is screaming for me to find out just what Blake has in his pants—and from what I can tell, it feels like a lot—I reluctantly pull back.

  “Is something wrong?” he rasps, his gaze smoldering, his hands still on my hips, squeezing lightly.

  “No,” I reply a little breathlessly. “Everything is right. So very, very right.”

  “So why are we stopping?” he asks.

  I groan, “Because this is so right. That’s why.”

  He cocks his head. “How do you mean?”

  “It’s just that I don’t want to move too fast and risk screwing up a good thing. You have to admit, what we have feels really freaking great.”

  “It does,” he agrees. “And I understand where you’re coming from.”

  “You’re not mad or upset, then?”

  He chuckles, a low, sexy timbre. “No, not at all.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, great.”

  His hands stay on my hips, and mine move up to his shoulders.

  We smile at each other.

  And then, because someone has to say something at some point, I breathe out, “We have so got this, don’t we?”

  “I think we do, Noelle. I think we’re going to be just fine.”

  “We’ll move slowly?” I verify, though more for me than for him. “You’re cool with that?”

  “Yes.” He nods. “I absolutely am. We’ll go at whatever pace you want.”

  “Okay, good.”

  Though we just agreed to move slowly, I can’t seem to take my hands from his shoulders.

  Nor do his hands budge from my hips.

  Can we stay like this forever?

  I’d like to, but we can’t.

  Blowing out a breath, I finally say, “I guess we should go to dinner, yeah?”

  “We better,” he says, giving me one last squeeze, “before we change our minds.”

  Close Call

  I have a great restaurant picked out, a fancy steakhouse that serves the best filet mignon I’ve found thus far in the city. I can’t wait to share it with Noelle.

  But the whole drive there I have this really weird bad feeling. I’m worried something is about to go wrong.

  Everything is fine at the moment. Noelle and I are having a good time on the way to the restaurant, chatting easily about how our days went.

  I tell her I met a new teammate, Landen, for lunch, and she talks about how happy she is that her tuition is paid off.

  “Only one more semester to go,” she says. “I should finish with a 4.0.”

  “Impressive,” I reply.

  I’m not joking, I am impressed. Noelle is beautiful and smart—what a combination. I feel like I hit the jackpot.

  It’s all good, until we walk into the restaurant and step up to the hostess station. That’s when things start to go sideways, just as I feared they would.

  Landen, the guy I met for lunch, comes rushing over to us. There’s grave concern on his face.

  “Hey,” I say, taken aback by how concerned he appears, but trying to play it cool. “Imagine seeing you here.”

  Landen states grimly, “Yeah, imagine.”

  I have no idea why he sounds so serious, but I brush it off and introduce him to Noelle.

  “I’d like you to meet someone,” I say.

  After an introduction, Landen nods at Noelle and murmurs a quick, “Hey, nice to meet you.”

  Weird thing is the entire time he’s talking to her, he’s making eye contact with me. It’s like there’s something he desperately needs to tell me.

  Maybe he’s shocked that I moved so fast and am already out with Noel’s sister?

  No, I don’t think that’s it.

  But something is up, so I go ahead and ask, “What’s going on, man?”

  “Uh…” He clears his throat. “It’s just that… Can I speak to you alone for a minute?”

  I glance over at Noelle to see if she’s cool with that.

  She shrugs. “Sure. I don’t mind, Lars. I’ll just wait here.”

  Landen, turning to her, says somberly, “Actually, maybe waiting outside or in the ladies’ room would be a better option. Someplace out of sight for sure.”

  Huh?

  I don’t like this one bit.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I snap. “Why would Noelle need to hide?”

  Leaning in, Landen hisses, “Because Noel’s here, dude, that’s why.”

  “Shit.” I shut my mouth.

  Noelle echoes my sentiment with an annoyed, “Crap.”

  Now I get it.

  This is bad. My uneasy feeling that something was going to go wrong has been realized.

  Noelle and I glance at each other worriedly, and Landen says, “Yeah, he’s in the main dining room at a table with a bunch of guys who just got into town.”

  I grind out a frustrated, “Fuck, this is so not good.”

  “No, no it’s not,” Landen agrees.

  Noelle and I are about to be busted and we haven’t even done anything worth getting called out for.

  Talk about bad luck.

  Grabbing my arm, Noelle says, “Blake, we really need to get out of here. Noel will flip if he sees us together. The one thing he’s always been adamant about is me not dating hockey players, especially not one of his freaking teammates.”

  My brow creases. “I know Noel wouldn’t like us dating and that he’s über-protective of you, but I had no idea he explicitly asked you not to date a hockey player.”

  Shrugging, Noelle says, “I thought that was implied.”

  I wave it off. “It doesn’t matter. And you’re right. We should get out of here before he sees us together.”

  She nods frantically. “Yes, let’s.”

  Landen is peeking into the dining room while Noelle and I hash it out, but the second he sees we have things resolved, he steps back over to us.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” he begins, talking very softly. “Noel is preoccupied at the moment. This is the perfect time for you guys to take off while you have the chance.”

  We heed his advice, waving a quick goodbye before we get the hell out of the restaurant.

  Out at the car, Noelle stops by the passenger door and blows out a relieved breath. “Phew. That was close.”

  Opening the door of my Lamborghini for her, I agree, “You’re not kidding. It was a little too close.”

  “So,” she goes on, sighing as she gets into the car, “what should we do now?”

  After I’m inside, I turn to her and say, “We still need to eat, right?”

  She shrugs. “I guess.”

  I raise a brow. “You’re no longer hungry?”

  She makes a face. “I am, a little. But after that close call, I think I’m too hyped to eat.”

  My appetite is blown too, so I say, “All right. What would you like to do instead? Do you have any ideas?”

  “Actually, I do.” Smiling over at me, she says slyly, “How do you feel about dancing, Blake?”

  “What, like at a club or something?”

  “Ye
ah, uh-huh, a club would work,” she teases.

  “Hmm…” I think it over. “Maybe I could get into that.”

  She blows out a breath. “Blake, please say yes. We wouldn’t have to stay too long. It’s just that I’ve been doing nothing but working at that stupid internship this whole summer. And now, after this close call with my brother, I really could use an opportunity to blow off some steam.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to convince me.” I start backing out of the parking space. “That sounds good. Just tell me where to go.”

  Laughing, Noelle says, “A man who is cool with taking orders from a woman. I like it, Blake. I really do.”

  She can like it just fine…for now.

  I’m cool with her telling me over the next several minutes to make a right here, now go left.

  But it’s only for this situation.

  Once I get her into the bedroom, I’ll be the one in charge.

  Dancing The Night Away

  Blake makes the turns I call out, and we soon reach the club.

  As we’re walking into the old warehouse industrial dance space, I tell him, “This is where my best friend, Cara, and I like to come sometimes to shake our asses.”

  “Hmm…” Blake gives me a lusty smile. “I bet you look good doing that, Noelle.”

  Snatching up his hand, I tell him, “Well, you’re in luck. It looks like you’re about to find out.”

  A short while later finds us out on the dance floor, having a great time. It’s not super crowded since it’s early, but we’re having fun nonetheless. I think I could have a good time with Blake just watching paint dry. He’s that good of company.

  Also, as I promised, I am indeed shaking my ass off.

  I notice Blake is thoroughly enjoying watching me do so.

  But I like watching him too.

  The guy actually has some pretty good moves.

  Hmm, that makes me wonder just how he uses that strong, hard body in bed.

  Gah!

  I have to tell him, since he’s been so honest with me. It’s crazy, I feel like I can share everything with him.

  Leaning in, I whisper in Blake’s ear, “I like the way you move, Cavaletti.”

  Spinning me around till my ass is pressed into his crotch, he places his hands on my hips and murmurs, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Sandlund.”

  “Unh…”

  I grind back into him, upping the ante.

  Warm, quickened breaths wash over my ear as Blake rasps, “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

  I spin around to face him and quirk a brow. “Did you ever consider maybe I like danger?”

  He chuckles. “I get that impression, yes.”

  It seems we both enjoy pushing boundaries. That’s probably why we’re willing to take our chances with Noel.

  Speaking of my brother, I can’t believe he was at the restaurant.

  What was the chance?

  Then again, hockey players tend to frequent the same places, often together in a group. It’s like they have a damn hive mind, or something.

  In any case, I’m glad Blake and I were able to make a clean getaway. My brother remains none the wiser as to what I’m up to.

  Still, I feel kind of crappy.

  If this ever amounts to anything more, as I already decided, I will absolutely tell Noel. I mean, I’d kind of have to at that point.

  But for now, why risk his wrath unnecessarily?

  If this all blows up, Noel would be über pissed at Blake. And that would probably cause all sorts of dissention, thusly affecting the team adversely.

  So, yeah, no, I’m not about to be the cause of a string of Wolves losses. Not when the season hasn’t even begun. I will take this budding romance slowly, just the way Blake and I agreed.

  He and I dirty dance a little more—this man is so fun—and then we decide to grab a drink.

  After leaving the dance floor, we stop by one of the bars and order two light beers.

  Yeah, I’m taking a break from Chablis for a while.

  Once we have our brews in hand, we negotiate our way to a small table in a darkened corner where we can sit and relax. It’s far enough away from the dance floor that the music’s not too loud.

  After we’re seated I notice there are menus on the table, for bar food and the like. My stomach starts to growl, reminding me that I haven’t eaten for hours.

  With my appetite clearly having returned, I ask Blake, “Are you hungry?”

  “Hell, Noelle, I can always eat,” he tells me.

  “Great.”

  Looks like both of our appetites have returned.

  We look over the selections, make a decision, and flag down a passing waitress. In addition to ordering another round of light beers, we opt for fried mozzarella sticks and a small cheese pizza.

  After the waitress leaves, Blake says, “I’m glad you got your appetite back.”

  “Yeah, me too. Still…” I make a face. “No fish tacos for a while.”

  He raises a brow. “Maybe you should just stay away from food trucks in general.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I think I will. At least, I’ll be sure to avoid the sketchy ones.”

  Once our waitress returns with our drink and food order, I grab a mozzarella stick and blow on it. Once it cools to a non-nuclear temperature, I dip it into the small cup of marinara sauce that came with the order.

  Before I take a gooey bite, I say to Blake, “I still can’t believe Noel was at that restaurant.”

  He shakes his head as he plates a piece of pizza for himself. “Shit, I know. Talk about bad luck. Knowing he was there had me so fucking amped up. This club has been a great idea for us to let off some steam. Good call.”

  I nod. “Thanks, and I agree. I’m feeling much more relaxed now too.”

  Gesturing to the pizza and greasy appetizer, he says, “Though this isn’t exactly the romantic dinner I had planned for us.”

  Breaking a second mozzarella stick in two, I wrap the cheese around the fried outer portion and reply, “Maybe not, but it’s turned out to be a lot of fun. This may not be lobster and wine, Blake, but I’m having an amazing time.”

  “Me too, Noelle,” he says softly.

  “You know,” I go on, contemplating the events of the night, “I’m actually kind of glad it worked out this way.”

  Blake’s about to take a bite of pizza, but stops and raises a brow. “How do you mean?” he asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just that I like how this club is more laid-back than a fancy restaurant. And”—I raise a suggestive brow—“I really like dancing with you.”

  Blake gets it immediately. “Ah, yes. You like my ‘moves,’ or so you say.”

  “I do,” I murmur. “You move like a man with skill in, uh, other areas.”

  “Shit, Noelle.” Blake smirks. “Maybe someday you’ll find out if that’s true.”

  Holy hell, this man and his honesty!

  He just tells it like it is.

  He sure is confident too.

  I like that.

  Oh, do I ever.

  It makes me feel brave.

  Playfully, I kick at his foot under the table.

  “Ow. What was that for?” he asks, laughing.

  I roll my eyes. “It’s for being so smug.” I then admit, “I like that about you, though.”

  “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I really do.”

  With a huge smile plastered on his face, Blake grabs another slice of pizza.

  I love that we’re getting along so well. It’s been a smooth continuation of our connection from last night.

  Blake really is so damn fun and easygoing. He’s also super sexy and hot, definitely a lethal combination to my heart.

  But I don’t care.

  It’s been so long since I’ve had any kind of boyfriend, or really any guy in my life.

  I’m ready for this change.

  And I can’t think of a better one than Blake.


  Contingency Plan

  We stay at the club till really late, dancing the night away and talking into the wee hours of the morning.

  Good thing tomorrow is Saturday.

  At about three o’clock, I drop Noelle off at her townhouse. I walk her to her door, but she doesn’t ask me in.

  That’s fine. I don’t expect her to.

  We do kiss a little on the doorstep, but I don’t push for more. Despite all our flirty talk and suggestive dancing, I too would like to take things slowly.

  I like Noelle too much. It makes me want to enjoy the burn, the lead-up, the freaking anticipation. I think we also realize this could turn out to be more than just a sexual thing. I know I see it that way.

  The only obstacle in all this perfection is Noelle’s damn brother.

  That sure doesn’t stop us from spending a ton of time together over the next couple of weeks. We see each other almost every day, even if it’s just to meet for lunch near her internship, which is winding down, or to simply take a drive.

  I tell Noelle on one of those drives that I like cruising around the city and its outskirts, checking things out with her.

  I let her know that I want to learn all about Las Vegas so that it feels like home.

  “You know,” I say, “because I’m here to stay.”

  “Are you, Blake.”

  I reach over and put my hand on her jean-clad knee. “I am, babe.”

  We’re driving, but not in the city, not today. No, this late afternoon finds us out in the desert, in my Porsche.

  Noelle keeps telling me she’s curious as to how fast it can go.

  Ha!

  It’s time for her to find out, here in no-man’s land, where the roads are long and straight and there are no people anywhere.

  After I give her a warning to “hold on tight,” I get the Porsche up to about 120.

  She’s not scared in the least. In fact, she asks if she can give it a try.

  “Hmm, let me think about it,” I murmur.

  “Blake!” she admonishes.

  I never let anyone drive my cars, but for her I can make an exception.

  “Okay,” I say, slowing down and pulling into a large gravel turnout. “Just be careful.”

  Laughing, she volleys back, “Okay, Dad, I will. Not that you set a great example, Mr. 120.”