Right.
But still, maybe it didn’t have to be all or nothing. Maybe, after all this, they could be friends.
The laughter between them finally died down, and Walker took off his sunglasses and looked at her the same way he’d looked at her their first day on the ice, a mixture of respect and desire she couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard she tried.
“Okay,” Walker said. “That was some seriously amazing shit out there, Eva. No wonder McKellen brought you in. You can fucking skate.”
Eva closed her eyes. McKellen. The name sent a bolt of guilt to her gut, but she dismissed it. Why should she feel guilty for considering a great job offer? It was her life, after all. Hers and Gracie’s. Walker didn’t have a say in her future, no matter what had happened between them in the past.
Still, she knew she should probably mention it to him. She didn’t want there to be any surprises later.
Eva opened her eyes. “Walker, I—”
“Heads up!”
Too late, Eva spotted the blur of white hurtling toward her face. The snowball hit her with a cold, wet sting that left her gasping for air, even as laughter erupted from her mouth.
“Eat that, ice princess.” Walker sped away, charging fast to the far end of the pond.
“You are so going to pay for that.” Eva scooped up a handful of snow from the edge and zoomed toward him, waiting until he was in range before launching it at his head. Perfect shot.
“Bull’s eye!” she screamed.
For the next hour, they chased each other up and down the rink, sometimes throwing snowballs, sometimes trading hockey and figure skating moves. Eva wasn’t sure when the sun faded and the snow started, but it fell on them now in thick white flakes, soft and perfect and beautiful.
Walker was still smiling, relaxed and happy in a way she’d never seen him. Not even after they’d—
Stop thinking about it. You can’t go there again.
“I don’t know how you do it, Eva,” Walker said. “I’m out here freezing my ass off, I can’t even feel my face, but I don’t care. It’s like you make me forget about the pain. Forget that I’m on the brink of losing it all.”
“It has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.”
“No way.” Eva shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the ripple of emotion his words had sent through her body. “This is what skating for fun feels like. You forgot, okay? All the pressure, all the hard work, the pain… I get it. And maybe I’m helping you tap into that joy again, but it’s been there all along. All you need to do is find your way back to it.”
“Now I’m pretty sure you just Obi-Wan Kenobi’d me.”
Eva laughed. “The Force is no joke. Just ask Gracie.”
He stared at her a long time, so long she wondered if his lips had frozen shut.
“I’m not going back to the arena,” he finally said. “From now on, we work out here. Just us. No pressure.”
“We still have to work hard. We’ve got a month to go, and I have every intention of getting you back on that active roster.”
“Work hard, yes. But have fun, too.” Walker held out a gloved hand.
Eva took it without hesitation, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You’ve got yourself a deal, forty-six.”
For the rest of the week and into the next, they skipped the arena and the cones and the red and blue lines, working instead on the pond, out under the vast white sky, no walls or lines or boundaries in sight.
Something had unlocked for Walker out here. Eva had never seen him so happy to be on skates. At every session, he was getting stronger, faster, nailing every one of the drills no matter how challenging she’d made them. And the best part was, they were having actual fun.
So much fun that she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him about McKellen’s offer. She hadn’t officially accepted it yet, but the man had already made travel arrangements for her and Gracie to visit Minnesota in January. She was looking forward to the trip, to learning more about the facility and the other staff, to checking out what was likely to be her new city.
For the first time in years, things felt like they were looking up in her life.
Eva thought she’d be thrilled to share this with Walker, but every time they got together to practice, she found another reason to hold back. She worried the news would throw him off balance, interfere with his progress on the ice. She worried it would make him feel cheated, that it would damage his relationship with McKellen, that it would serve as a flashing neon sign reminding him that their time together was coming to an end.
Eva was having a hard enough time swallowing that on her own.
“You about ready to call it a day?” Walker skated over to the edge of the pond where Eva had stopped to drink some water. “Looks like a storm’s coming in.”
Eva looked up, wondering when the sky had turned so dark.
“We leave now,” Walker said, “we should beat it back to the city. But it’s supposed to hit us good tonight.”
The wind picked up then, coating them both with fine crystals of snow from the banks at the north end of the pond. The snow was just starting to fall, heavy flakes that would stick and freeze on the roads within an hour, making driving a nightmare.
Walker blinked the snow from his lashes. “Where’s Gracie today?”
“Christmas shopping with my sister. I should probably just have Marybeth keep her overnight.” Eva took out her phone and sent a quick text. Marybeth lived only fifteen minutes from Eva and Gracie’s place, but Eva wasn’t sure how long it would take her and Walker to get back to Buffalo, and if the storm was as bad as they were calling for, she didn’t want her sister driving in it, either.
When Eva looked up at Walker again, he was wearing his wolf’s grin, a devilish glint in his eyes she hadn’t seen since that night he’d come over for dinner—that night he’d kissed her in the living room, peeling back her dress to expose her naked flesh.
Eva forced herself not to flinch. Not to acknowledge the rush of desire blazing through her.
“So.” Walker skated closer, his white breath mingling with hers. “Suddenly you don’t have any plans tonight. Suddenly, you’re all alone.”
“Says you!” She smacked him playfully on the arm and lowered her eyes, unable to take the intensity brewing in his. When she spoke again, her voice felt high and tight. “I happen to be a very busy woman. In demand for all sorts of social engagements.”
“Come home with me, Eva.”
Eva’s breath caught, the white puff before her stopping, then starting again. When she finally looked up and met Walker’s eyes, she saw the obvious desire in them, mixed with something raw and hopeful that made her ache. They hadn’t touched at all since that night at the game—not in the ways that mattered. In the ways that left her skin on fire, her whole body throbbing with need.
Eva had tried to keep him at a distance, tried to put their few stolen, passionate moments behind them so that Walker could focus on training. So that she could focus on saying goodbye.
But when he looked at her that way, the memories of that day on their bench, that day on the suite floor, that night on her sofa… all of them crashed through her, a tumble of heat and desire.
Walker leaned in close, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, his stormy eyes locked on her mouth.
A shiver shook her, head to toe.
“I miss you,” he whispered, hot and needy against her lips. Eva didn’t—couldn’t—pull away. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She didn’t know what else to say, how to make it right. How to make him stop. How to make him stay.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “About how it felt to be inside you. About the way you smell.” His nose was against the bare skin of her throat, her neck. When he spoke again, his hot breath on her ear made her gasp. “The way your breathing changes when I touch you.” He slid his
hand down the curve of her waist, down over the soft mound of her ass, making her gasp again. “Yeah, just like that.”
Walker’s lips brushed against hers, soft and warm in the icy breeze.
“So tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t miss me. Tell me you don’t think of me when you touch yourself at night, remembering all the things we did. Tell me you don’t still want me, and I’ll back the fuck off for good.”
Eva’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, her head spinning, her whole body buzzing. She missed him. God, how she missed him. Everything he’d said was true, and touching herself had done nothing to ease the ache between her thighs, her own touch a pale second to Walker’s commanding strokes, to his perfect, soft mouth.
Things were getting complicated in ways that she’d promised herself they wouldn’t, ways that scared her right down to the bone.
But she couldn’t lie to him. Couldn’t tell him she hadn’t missed him, hadn’t been longing for his mouth against her flesh, the scratch of his stubbled chin on the soft skin of her thighs.
“I miss you,” she admitted. “Every time I see you.”
“Open your eyes,” he whispered, and when she did, she saw the hunger there, a mad and desperate heat. He crashed against her mouth, claiming her in a fiercely possessive kiss. When they finally broke apart, she was breathless.
“Come home with me,” he said again, his lips puffy from their kiss. Then, with a teasing smile, “I have a steam room. You’ll like it.”
Eva sighed. There was no use in fighting it. She was a goner. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “I guess a steam room sounds okay, but if you really want to impress me, talk to me about hot cocoa. With marshmallows.”
“Jesus, woman. If I’d known all it would take to get you to come home with me was some hot cocoa, I would’ve bought a truckload of Swiss Miss weeks ago.”
Eva laughed, but cocoa was the last thing on her mind.
Walker Dunn. Naked. In his bed. No coaches, no wingmen, no kids, no dogs, no deadlines, no skates.
No job offers.
No contract expirations.
No future what-ifs.
No fears.
Just the two of them, suspended under the glass in their own perfect snow globe moment, their own eternal Christmas fairytale.
Sliding her gloved fingers around the back of his neck, she pulled him close, whispered against his lips as the snowflakes caught in his eyelashes and disappeared, one by one by one.
“Take me home, forty-six.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wearing only a small white towel that left little to the imagination, Walker sat on a slatted wooden bench in front of a wall of gray and black stones, his dark hair curling in the heat as he tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.
“What is so funny?” Eva stood before him in a cloud of steam, hands on hips, her own too-small towel tight around her chest. Drops of water collected in the hollow of her throat, sliding down between her breasts.
“Nothing. It’s just… I’ve had this exact dream basically every night since we met.”
Eva slid her hands into his hair, satiny-slick with moisture. “Every night?”
“Every fucking night.”
“Then how do you know this isn’t a dream?” She dropped her towel, her breasts level with his mouth.
Walker groaned, his towel rising from his lap in response. He slid his hands up her legs, back around her ass. “I guess I don’t.”
Eva pulled him close, brushing her aching nipples across his rough cheek, his lips. His tongue darted out, teasing, but she pulled back, enjoying the game of making him wait. “Well,” she said, “since you’ve been here before, what happens next?”
He tightened his grip on her ass in response, finally capturing her nipple in his mouth, sucking, licking, tugging. Just when Eva thought she’d go numb from his exquisite torture, he moved to the next one, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, sucking her hard and deep, his fingers digging into her flesh.
“This,” he said, finally looking up at her, his eyes as dark as the stones behind him. He yanked the towel from around his waist and pulled her close, guiding her into his lap as she wrapped her legs around him. He was rock-hard, hot and slick in the steam, brushing against Eva’s aching clit, driving her wild.
She reached for him, fisted him, stroking until he was full and hard and thicker than she’d ever felt him.
Walker ran a hand up her back, tangling in her hair, pulling out the bobby pins and clips she’d used to secure her bun. Her long hair tumbled down her back, and despite the near-suffocating heat in the small room, Eva’s skin erupted in goose bumps.
“Slow,” he whispered, covering her hand with his, guiding her into a rhythm that made him throb beneath her touch. “Oh, God,” he breathed. “That’s it.” The gentle tone in his voice belied the fire in his eyes, the pulse of his perfect cock in her hand.
He kissed her, sliding his tongue between her lips, his breath as hot as the steam that enveloped them. She released his cock, sliding closer, desperate to feel him inside her. Now.
He rolled on a condom and positioned himself at her entrance, breaking their kiss and looking into her eyes. “You okay, princess?”
Eva closed her eyes and slid her hands over his shoulders, lacing her fingers behind his neck, his hair curling against her skin. There was nothing between them now but sweat and steam and the thinnest layer of fear, still holding her back. Everything Walker did—the touches, the kisses, the whispers, the intense longing looks—made her weak.
It was a beautiful weakness, the kind of weakness born of desire and hope and pleasure and a deep inner fire they both shared, on the ice and off. But it also left her vulnerable.
Eva opened her eyes.
He was so hard for her, so ready for this. His eyes were their darkest, a winter storm at midnight, wild and savage, impossible now to look away from.
Eva took a deep breath, trembling, shuddering, floating. This was no longer a quick fix in the players’ box, a momentary lapse in judgment, a lust-fueled, passionate tumble on the floor of the suite with half their clothes still on. This was Eva and Walker alone in his home, just the two of them, the long hours of the night still ahead. There would be no going back after this. No changing her mind.
Every moment they spent together on the ice had been building to this, no doubt about it. But despite all that had happened between them, in this moment, with Walker looking deep into her eyes for her answer, there was still a chance to back out. To truly call this off—whatever “this” was—before things got any more heated.
Eva held her breath, feeling as if she was perched on the icy edge of a cliff in a snowstorm. She could pull back, try to find her way back to solid ground.
Or she could take her chances with the jump.
Walker slid his hand along her jaw, cupping her cheek. “Hey,” he whispered, soft as the steam falling on their skin. “We don’t have to—”
She cut him off with a kiss and lifted her hips, guiding him inside her. He returned her kiss, hotter and deeper than before, his hips rocking against her, his cock stretching her wide, filling her completely. She matched him stroke for stroke, riding him slow, then fast, her hands tangling in his hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and when he whispered her name into her hair, Eva knew she’d been wrong about that cliff in the snowstorm.
Pulling back was not an option. She’d gone over that cliff the very first time she’d seen him on the ice, the very first time she looked into those stormy eyes. She was already falling, hurtling toward the ground with nothing to slow her down.
Best she could hope for now was that he’d be there to catch her at the bottom of the abyss.
Walker buried his face in her hair, sliding deeper inside her, so hard and hot and perfect she could no longer keep quiet.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “That’s… you’re so… right there!” She was out of her mind with pleasure, losing the last of her
fragile grip on reality, the steam swallowing her whole as Walker drove her closer and closer to the edge of bliss. “Walker!”
He rolled his hips, hitting her hard, hitting her right. She bit down on his shoulder, digging her nails into his back, the muscles in her abs tightening, her thighs trembling, her whole body wound up and ready to explode.
“Let go, Evangeline,” he said. “Just let go.”
And in that blissful, glorious moment, she did.
She let go of all of it—her guilt about the job offer, her money woes, her fears about whether Walker felt the same way about her as she felt about him. She let go of feeling small and childish, incompetent in the cruel shadow of her mother. She let go of her self-judgment. Of all the ways she worried she wasn’t measuring up as a mother, as a sister, as a friend. She let go of all the ways she’d been holding herself back, all the things she’d been trying to prove, all her old mistakes and the ones she was still to make.
Here, in the arms of the man she’d fallen impossibly in love with, Eva let go.
And when she came, it was in a blinding, white-hot rush, a surge of heat that started at her core and spread outward, electrifying her from head to toe, her whole body trembling as Walker’s cock throbbed inside her, and he called her name and pulled her hair and held her so close she couldn’t breathe, shuddering against her until they were spent and happy.
When they finally caught their breath, when they finally floated back down to earth and felt the stone and wood digging into their pruned skin, when the steam finally parted between them, Walker brushed the damp hair from her eyes and kissed her.
No, it wasn’t the kind of kiss they’d shared that first time, hungry and desirous and urgent.
It was the kind of kiss promises were made of.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Naughty Or Ice Page 16
