Melting the Ice

by Jaci Burton

  And now he expected her to just drop everything and go to dinner with him? That was ballsy. And more than a little annoying.

  She opened the door and waited for him to show up, which he did a minute later, looking gorgeous as always in relaxed jeans and a navy blue peacoat. He even wore a scarf. Damn, but the man was infuriating, attractive as hell and even worse, he dressed well.

  Other than his arrogant attitude, she had nothing to pick apart.

  He stepped in and looked around, zeroing in on her coffee table. "Paperwork explosion?"

  "Something like that. Would you like to take your coat off?"

  "No. I'm starving. I thought maybe you'd want to get dinner."

  "I'm kind of busy. And it's eight thirty."

  His lips curved. "You're always busy. So you ate already?"

  "I did. Hours ago."

  "That's fine. I'll just go grab something."

  "No. Don't leave. I can fix you something." He was here and she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to get him in her clothes and back out of her apartment again.

  He cocked a brow. "You cook?"

  "I cook."

  "Great." He took off his coat and hung it up, then followed her into the kitchen.

  "What would you like?"

  "I don't know. How about some eggs?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "I hate eggs. I don't even keep them in the house."

  "That's like . . . un-American, Carolina. Everyone likes eggs."

  "No, everyone doesn't. I don't."

  "Fine. What do you have?"

  "How about some chicken? I made it for dinner and have some left."

  "That'll work."

  She took out the chicken and rice she'd baked earlier and warmed it in the microwave.

  "Something to drink?"

  "Water would be fine."

  He made his way into the kitchen and came up beside her as she prepped the plate.

  "This looks good. Thanks for fixing it for me."

  "It's no trouble."

  She sat at the table with him while he ate. Or, rather, while he wolfed down the meal in what seemed like less than five minutes.

  "Hungry?" she asked.

  He laid down his fork and wiped his mouth with the napkin. "Starving. It was a long flight and they don't feed you shit on the plane." He took the plate to the sink, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. "Thank you again for this. I feel human again."

  "You're welcome."

  He downed the glass of water and refilled it, then came back to sit next to her at the table.

  "How was your road trip?"

  "Long. Painful. We lost three games. It sucked."

  "I'm sorry."

  He shrugged. "It's over. We'll regroup. And we have several home games now. That'll help."

  "Will it?"

  "Yeah. The home crowd always motivates us to do better."

  "I hope so."

  "You should come to a game or two."

  She leaned back in the chair. "And you think that would help you win?"

  "I know it would."

  She laughed. "I doubt that, but I'll see what I can do."

  "Bring Stella. I'm sure she'd like to see a game."

  "That's probably true, but she's busy getting ready for a show. I'll check with her and see if she's available."

  He looked around her apartment. "How's the work going?"

  "Good. I've gotten a lot done, which was why I called you. I'd like you to try on a few things."

  "Okay." He pushed back the chair and stood. "Where do you want me?"

  She tilted her head back and looked at him. Ridiculously, her first thought in response to that question was, in her bed.

  She shook that off and stood. "We need to head over to my work studio. That's where all the clothes are."

  "All right."

  They put on their coats and headed downstairs to hail a taxi. It was a brisk night, cloudy and overcast, with the threat of freezing rain forecast. Carolina was cold and the taxi's heater wasn't exactly in working order. She shivered.

  "You cold?" Drew asked.

  "A little."

  "Come over here." He pulled her over and put his arm around her.

  She wanted to resist, wanted to keep that line of distance and professionalism between them, but who was she kidding? She was freezing, and Drew's body was warm. She snuggled in closer.

  "Better?" he asked, putting his other arm around the front of her.

  "Much. Thank you."

  As soon as the chill wore off, they arrived at the building.

  Damn. She dug into her purse to pay the driver, but Drew had already taken out his wallet.

  "Please let me pay. I'm asking you to do this for me."

  He gave her a look. "Are we going to have this conversation again?"

  The driver gave them an exasperated stare, as if he wanted them out of his cab so he could go grab his next fare.

  "Apparently not."

  "Good. Then let's go."

  She shook her head and dug for her keys to enter the building, then led Drew onto the elevator to the tenth floor where her studio was located.

  She flipped on the lights.

  "Wow," Drew said as he made his way inside. "You have a lot of space here."

  "I need it for all the work we do." She slipped off her coat and wandered the room, turning on lights and heading toward the racks of clothes.

  She studied him, then the clothing, already deciding the more formal wear was out. Suits just didn't, well, suit his physique. She went to the rack and started pulling clothes.

  "This one. Definitely this. I want to see you in these pants and this shirt." She started throwing clothes on the table, then stopped and stared at him. "Don't just stand there. Strip."

  "I love when a woman talks dirty."

  She rolled her eyes and went back to the rack. When she turned around, Drew was pulling off his shirt. Her gaze may have lingered a bit on his abs while his shirt covered his head.

  And she might have sighed in pure feminine appreciation.

  He flipped the button on his jeans, and she found herself staring. She caught the curve of his lips.

  "Are you sure we're just trying on clothes, or is this some nefarious plan to get me naked so you can sex me up on your worktable?"

  As soon as he'd said it, visuals of climbing on top of him and riding him on her oversize worktable filled her mind.

  "Of course not."

  "Good. Because I'd like to bend you over that window seat and take you from behind."

  Her gaze immediately shot to the window. "Seriously? At the window? Where people could see us?"

  "Come on, Lina. Living dangerously is half the fun."

  She could already feel him behind her, pounding into her while she planted her hands on the window seat, wondering who'd be looking in from outside.

  Heat flared through her body. She pushed it aside.

  "That's not going to happen."

  "Too bad. Just the thought of it made my dick hard."

  He shrugged out of his jeans, his erection very evident against his boxer briefs.

  "Well . . . unharden it."

  He laughed. "Kind of difficult since it's all I can think about now."

  It was all she could think about, too, damn him. She made an about-turn. "I'm going to get clothes. You work on that problem."

  "So, you want to watch me jack off?"

  She pivoted in a hurry. "No. Absolutely not."

  "Your cheeks are pink. I'll bet you'd like to see that."

  "Dammit, Drew, I didn't bring you here to have sex with you. Now get serious about this."

  "Oh, I'm very serious, Lina."

  She stared at him--at his face this time, to let him know just how not funny she thought he was being.

  "Okay, fine." He stared at the ceiling.

  "Now what are you doing?"

  "Counting ceiling tiles."

  She tapped her foot and waited, trying not to stare at his cock. It took
about a minute, but he finally nodded. "Okay, let's play dress-up."

  She took the first outfit out of the garment bag. She'd chosen a pair of workout pants and a tight-fitting T-shirt. He put them on.

  "Shoes?"

  "I have some. Hang on." She started into the other room, then stopped. "Oh, I need your size."

  He told her, then she dashed in and came out with shoes. He put them on.

  "Now, walk," she said.

  "Walk, where?"

  "Back and forth, like you'd be walking on the runway."

  "How?"

  Of course. He was a guy and had likely never seen a fashion show. "Like this." She demonstrated, walking the length of the room, pivoting, then walking back.

  He smiled. "You have a great ass."

  She rolled her eyes. "Now you do the same."

  "I hope you don't expect me to walk all girlie."

  "I don't. I expect you to walk like a man."

  He slid his hand into the pocket and took a stroll.

  God, he was a natural. Some models took years to perfect a walk like that. Drew took seconds to head down the room, stop, turn, and head back.

  Women would be falling at his feet.

  And even better, the outfit looked magnificent on him. He was tall, lean, with chiseled looks that would serve him well on the runway.

  Or in a magazine.

  Or on a billboard.

  He was perfect for her line.

  "How did I do?"

  "Great. Stand there for a second." She ran and grabbed her notebook and took a photo of him in the clothes. "Now put this set on." She handed him the next outfit. He undressed, put it on, and did the same walk. She made notes and took photos while he tried on six different outfits.

  He wore them all incredibly well. And didn't complain once about being bored or irritated.

  "Thank you for doing this," she said as he climbed out of the last outfit.

  "We're done already?"

  "Yes. Why? Did you enjoy it? Thinking of hanging up your skates and becoming a model?"

  He laughed. "Not on your life. But for you, I don't mind."

  He'd been so great about this. Even the professional models hated trying on clothes. Dressing them in an outfit and sending them down a runway at a packed show, fine. That's what they were paid for. But they found fittings tiresome.

  "You were awesome."

  He stepped toward her. "So does that mean I get some kind of reward?"

  "Uh, like what?"

  He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close. "I was thinking we could go make out on the window seat."

  "And I think you can get dressed now."

  Surprisingly, he let go of her and took a step back. "Okay, if that's what you really want."

  The feel of his rock-hard body against hers made her want him.

  And then he'd let go of her. So easily. Shockingly, actually, as she watched him climb into his jeans.

  She was surprised by her disappointment. "Seriously? You're getting dressed?"

  He looked up at her. "Isn't that what you want?"

  "Yes. No. I mean, yes, of course. We should go."

  "What do you want, Carolina?" he asked, his jeans still unzipped, hanging on his hips and making him look sexier than he did when he was standing there in his briefs. She could sketch him, just like that, the hint of his hipbone shadowed by the denim . . .

  God, she was insane. Drew did this to her. Somehow this was all his fault.

  "I need to get back to work. Make some adjustments to the clothing, line out the models."

  He walked over toward the door. Confused, she frowned. He wasn't fully dressed yet. What was he doing?

  When the lights went out, she was disoriented.

  "Drew?"

  "I'm right here." He whispered, his body coming up to nestle behind hers. He wrapped his arms around her, then kissed her neck.

  She shivered, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to the side, giving him access. Maybe it was seeing him mostly unclothed, or seeing him in her clothes. Maybe it was his cooperative spirit and the way he'd given himself over to modeling for her.

  She didn't know, and right now, right here, in the dark, with his body so close to hers, she stopped questioning it, stopped questioning herself. She only wanted Drew, only wanted his lips gliding along the column of her throat, pulling her sweater aside to nip at her shoulder.

  She shuddered, and when he walked them forward, toward the window, her body pulsed with excitement.

  "I've been thinking about you--about this window seat--since we walked in here tonight."

  He raised her sweater, spreading his hand across her stomach. Ripples of desire quivered throughout her body.

  "I missed you while I was gone, Lina." He whipped her around and cupped her chin, then kissed her, a searing hot kiss she felt through every nerve ending. She wanted more, wanted to be closer to him. She leaned into him, tunneled her fingers into his hair and moved her body against his.

  When he groaned and cupped her butt, she knew she wanted him inside her. She'd missed him. That one night together--the night she thought would be the last time between them--hadn't been enough.

  She pulled back. "We could go back to my place."

  He smiled at her, a dark, dangerous smile that thrilled her. "Where's your sense of adventure, Lina?"

  "Uh, back in my apartment? In my bedroom?"

  He laughed and turned her back around. "Look out the window. No one can see us. It's dark in here. But you can look down at them."

  He popped the button on her jeans and drew her zipper down. His hand was warm as he slid it inside.

  Her breath caught as he slipped his hand under her panties, cupping her sex.

  "You're wet, Lina."

  "Yes."

  "Do you want me to make you come?"

  How could she not when she was a tight knot of nerve endings ready to burst?

  "Yes."

  Arousal beat a furious dance, her pulse pounding as he tucked a finger inside her and rubbed the heel of his hand against her clit.

  He cupped her breast over her sweater, caressing her nipple as he continued to pump his finger and roll his hand over the bud of her clit. The sensations were maddening. She thrust her sex against his hand, gripping his wrist to help him find the rhythm she needed.

  "Your pussy grips my finger," he said, flicking her ear with his tongue. "Tight, hot." He thrust into her. "Makes me want my cock inside you, Lina. I want you bent over so I can watch it go in and out of you."

  His words, spoken in the darkness while he was behind her, only fueled the fire within her that raged nearly out of control. She was so close, hovering a breath's whisper near the edge of falling.

  "Come for me, Lina."

  His words were a heady caress, tantalizing her, making her tighten and reach for the climax she knew was right there waiting for her. And when he gently rode her clit with his hand, then tucked another finger inside her, the rush of orgasm took her breath. She laid her head back against his shoulder and rode it out, moaning as he held her tightly and she rolled with the waves of euphoria that rocked her senseless.

  He waited for her to come down, his fingers still gently sliding in and out of her, taking her up that stepladder of coiled need and fierce desire. He pressed against her, his erection profoundly reminding her of where she wanted to go next--where they'd go together.

  She wasn't nearly finished with him. She wanted him inside her.

  "Yes," was all she managed before she heard the rustle of his jeans as they hit the floor. He drew her jeans and panties down to her knees, then bent her over so her hands rested on the window seat.

  She heard the tearing of a condom wrapper, smiling and also relieved that he'd thought to bring one.

  He smoothed his hands over the globes of her butt, then she felt the warmth of his lips there.

  "You have a magnificent ass, Carolina."

  She took a deep breath.

  "And I'm going to enjoy
watching it while I fuck you."

  He swept his hands over her butt, then slid his hand between her thighs, cupping her sex.

  "Yes. Touch me like that."

  "You want me to make you come again?"

  She could, if he continued to caress her clit in that gentle back and forth motion. But this time, she wanted to release with him.

  "I want you inside me."

  With his hands on her hips, he eased into her. The sensation of his cock swelling inside her was overwhelming.

  "Look outside, Lina. Do you think they can see us?"

  "No."

  "What would you think if they could?"

  Breathless, she rose up and braced her hands on the window, giving him deeper access to her. "I don't care."

  Drew laid one hand on the window above her and thrust into her. "Good. Because this is just about you and me, in the dark. I want you to feel me."

  He withdrew partway, then slid back in. Her pussy tightened and she felt every glorious inch of him. And when he reached around and found her clit, it was a burst of pleasure that made her whimper. She both hated and loved that he made her feel so needy, so desperate for this orgasm, but the feel of him, coupled with his fingers stroking her was like nothing she could do on her own.

  She wanted this. With him and only him.

  She arched, pushing against his cock. "More."

  He grasped her hand and dragged them both down, bending her from the waist so he could plunge deeper, never once losing the rhythm he'd found on her clit.

  "You're close," he said. "I can feel your pussy gripping me."

  She laid her head on her arm, her body and mind lost in the sensation of Drew driving into her, of the way his fingers danced over her sex. She immersed herself in the sounds of their lovemaking, lost herself in his warm breath on her neck, the scent of sex filling the air around them.

  "Oh. Oh, Drew. I'm going to come."

  He strummed her clit faster. "That's it. Squeeze my cock. Make me come with you, Lina."

  His words were the last she needed to crest the wave. She cried out and shattered, her entire body rocking as her climax shook her. Drew groaned and pumped fast into her, kissing her neck as he orgasmed along with her.

  Her legs were shaking. Without Drew's tight hold on her, she wasn't certain she could have stood upright. He pressed kisses along her shoulder and back, the aftermath just as sweet as the act itself.

  When he withdrew, he turned her around and cupped her face, then kissed her, a long, slow deep kiss that curled her toes and warmed her from the inside out.

  "There's a bathroom down the hall," she said.

  She led him to the bathroom and they cleaned up and straightened their clothes. Drew hit the lights and helped her put all the clothing back on hangers and racks. Then they grabbed some water out of the refrigerator and took a seat at one of the empty tables.