She pointed to the nearly empty beer bottle in his hand. ‘I’m going to go get myself one of those. Can I bring you back one?’
‘Yes, please, and then –’
‘Me, too?’ piped up the sexy cat in the very small skirt next to Mick, her smile sickening. ‘Light beer, please.’
‘Sure thing,’ she said, and swallowed her annoyance to give Mick a quick smile. ‘Two bottles of beer and one bottle of beer-flavoured air, coming right up.’
She had hoped he would disengage himself from his collection of costumed skanks, but he didn’t follow and her spirits dipped further when she looked back.
He had his lips against the ear of his Queen of Hearts, who was all smiles as she clung to his arm.
When she reached the rain barrel filled with ice and beverages, she pulled out three beers and looked back.
The sexy cat pressed close to him and had now been appointed the object of the others’ wrath. Julia was sure that, if she stood there long enough, the women would start tugging on Mick until there was nothing left but chunks.
He didn’t look like he minded a whole lot. Even as jealousy pricked her, she couldn’t say she blamed him. He joked about that fragile ego, but between this and the fan club at the pub, it was clear he liked having that ego stroked.
And he had planned to give it up, hadn’t he? Give up the ice and the adoration and go live quietly somewhere as a veterinarian, mucking around in rubber boots in the middle of the night if needed.
She doubted his groupies would find him so appealing if they knew his ambitions were far more commonplace than hockey glory. She doubted they would crush so close to him or offer oodles of cleavage if they knew that his future involved the whiff of manure.
But she did. She got the tingles at the thought of him tramping around with the rain misting his hair, exhaustion mingling with the accomplishment that came from doing good work.
She looked down at the light beer in one hand, then placed it back in the barrel. She cracked the top on the other two drinks, hers and Mick’s, and marched back through the throng of people.
As soon as she came back into his sights, Mick smiled and leaned forward.
Julia thrust the bottle in his hand, and before her nerve gave out on her she threw her free arm around his neck and pulled him closer.
He made a muffled sound against her mouth and cinched his broad arm around her. She picked up precisely where they had left off outside the pub, sucking and licking, closing her fingers against his scalp. For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat ticking faster and faster and that rumbling that vibrated against her tongue, and then Mick pulled away.
Through the mask of black and white, smudged around his mouth, he looked mortified.
Nausea churned through her gut, sickly and sour. She didn’t dare look at his sniggering entourage. She felt as though she was disintegrating beneath Mick’s uncomfortable expression.
She turned and bolted from the kitchen and walked straight on through the living room, knocking into anyone who stood in her way, until she found her escape through the patio doors.
Thankfully, no one else at the party dared to brave the onset of November, giving Julia her bitter cold empire. She tossed her train over the edge of the patio and sank down on the adjoining bench.
Walking up to Mick, showing him and his gaggle of preening, pecking birds just what she had in her arsenal by snogging the face off him, had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
Now that she was alone, her head aching and her stomach rolling, she could see how sticking her tongue in the party host’s mouth in front of his guests could be a bad idea. If he had done the same thing to her, she could see herself wanting to melt into the floor like the wicked witch.
She wanted to go home, but with the train to deal with she’d left her cell with Kris. It was a bitter irony. With her phone, she would have texted Kris and arranged to meet in front of the house. She could have gone home and crammed mini chocolate bars into her face while watching teenagers getting hacked to pieces by an undead maniac, or she could follow her friends to the bar scene and wake up to the new month so hungover she’d feel like it would be her last November.
But without her phone she would have to go back into the house. She wasn’t doing that until she found out if her courage had hidden in the bottom of that beer bottle.
A few minutes later, halfway done and with her courage still nowhere to be found, Julia felt more miserable than ever. She stood and leaned against her piled-up train, chewing on her misery as she took a long gulp.
‘There, I find you.’
Julia swallowed her mouthful of beer too fast and sputtered. Hand across her mouth as the fizzing moved from the back of her throat to her nostrils, she blinked away the stinging tears and turned.
Her heart slammed against her chest. Mick stood in the frame of the patio door with his big arms crossed over his chest. Even with the outlandish makeup, his crooked grin was as irresistible as ever.
‘Yes, you find me,’ she said hoarsely. She took a slower sip to clear her throat and lowered her gaze to those unlaced combat boots.
‘You are hiding from me,’ he murmured, then sighed. ‘I let you hide for a while, but then I think maybe you want me to follow you here.’
He strolled towards her, and Julia felt smaller and smaller as he neared. She didn’t know how to answer him. She had been hiding, but she hadn’t expected him to follow.
Yet now he was here, and she didn’t notice the chill in the air any longer.
‘You are not all right,’ he observed.
Julia drew a deep breath. ‘I shouldn’t have done what I did in the kitchen, Mick. I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you.’
‘I was not embarrassed. It was fun, until you run away.’
‘Fun? You looked horrified.’
‘You run away before I could show you,’ he said, laughing and tapped the corner of his mouth. ‘You should look in mirror.’
Julia rubbed her mouth and looked at her fingers, now streaked with white.
‘Oh, my God,’ she groaned, and rubbed her fingers clean on the back of her hand. ‘How bad do I look?’
‘Like ice queen who kissed a big skeleton.’
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she covered her smudged face with her hand. ‘You’re right, Mick. I am a klutz.’
‘Lucky for you I have come to rescue you.’
She lifted her head and a shiver skittered over her shoulders as he crooked his fingers and beckoned her.
She set her bottle aside and got to her feet, ready to meet him halfway, only to jerk back with a yelp.
‘This goddamn thing!’ she snapped, tugging at the train. She was far too angry now to care about the state of the costume, and as it began to give way the tearing sound was like a victory call.
‘Wait – wait!’
Mick was at her side in a moment, one brawny paw on her neck while the other worked the bundle of tulle.
‘It is caught on nail and you ruin it if you do that,’ he said brusquely, and the pressure of his fingers against her skin increased. ‘Be still, I will get this.’
It seemed to take him for ever to free her, and as he worked the tangle free she found it harder to breathe. The heat of his palm spread from where it rested between her shoulders and moved quickly throughout, pricking every part of her body along its journey until she was in a glorious fever all over.
‘Almost,’ he said, low and close to her ear, and she had only a chance to suck in a quick breath before he had freed her and clamped his hands on her waist.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, fighting the hot shivers that tickled her, but she lost the fight.
Mick pulled her back against him. ‘Ice queen is cold.’
‘A little,’ she lied, and turned her head towards the stream of his breath against her ear.
He slid his hands until they joined together just above her abdomen. ‘Come inside. I will warm you.’
>
The idea of going back inside physically pained her, as did that of freeing herself from his strong arms. She squirmed, but his hold on her only strengthened.
Close to her ear, he muttered. ‘I made a bad assumption?’
Conceding to his hold on her, she managed to turn but quickly discovered the peril in doing so. Belly to belly, thigh to thigh, cinched so close she could feel the outline of his body pressing through the thin layers between them, Julia had made herself his captive.
She stuttered under his gaze. His scowl was visible through the black and white mask he wore but his eyes were as hot as her blood. Finally she got her tongue to work for her.
‘You didn’t make a bad assumption. I came here to see you and spend time with you, but I forgot how hard it is to get to know someone when you can’t hear what they’re saying and you can’t get a full sentence out before someone else demands their attention.’
‘My mistake,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘I ask you here for the same, but didn’t think of noise.’
Disappointment cooled her as he loosened his fingers, but he didn’t release her. Instead he sprawled his hands over the hump of her bottom.
‘Upstairs?’
Julia’s first inclination was to reject this suggestion. Once she was alone with Mick she’d find it hard to keep her hands off of him, and the idea of doing so under the same roof as this group of partygoers was a little embarrassing, not to mention the shameful walk up those stairs broadcasting what they planned to do that night.
But she had asked for it and he was giving it. She was dying to be alone with him, now, and if the fire in his eyes was any indication of his need for her, the hard poke between them drove the message home.
She reached behind her and cuffed his wrists. ‘Upstairs.’
With a grin that was so wicked Julia purred, Mick separated from her and wrapped the train around his arm.
‘No falling down and no escape,’ he teased, and, hand on her back, he followed her inside.
Julia kept her gaze low to hide her ruined makeup as she led the way to the stairs, leading Mick. A few people tried to intersect him but he kept moving. At the midway point she glanced back at him and the intensity in his stare made her weak, like he had the power to will the entire house empty just for her.
At the top of the stairs she waited, then let him lead.
‘My bedroom,’ he said, revealing a moonlit room, then gave her a nudge.
He released her train and she turned, ready to push him back against the door and make a mess of both their makeup, but Mick was still on the hall side of the threshold and closing the door behind him.
‘Back soon, I am missing something,’ he whispered and flashed a smile at her. ‘Unless you hide condom in dress.’
‘Oh! No, I don’t,’ she replied and scolded herself. She hadn’t even been thinking of protection when all that seemed to matter was getting him naked.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Julia hit the lights. His bedroom was like something out of a showroom, painted a coffee-and-cream brown with black furniture, including an enormous bed with a puffy duvet. Mick’s orderly tendencies showed themselves in his most intimate of spaces. The dresser was clear save for a leather jewellery box and a cactus. The nightstand on the left had only a small pile of paperbacks, while the other was home to an iPhone dock and a small ceramic dish that now held his watch.
She peeked into the drawer closer to her and found the predictable cache of a bachelor’s sex life: a small bottle of lubricant and an empty box of condoms.
As soon as she had slid the drawer shut, Mick returned. He held up the condom pinched between two fingers and tucked it between his lips as he locked the door behind him. He held something else in his free hand, and when he went to the mirror she saw that it was a grey washcloth.
Once more he beckoned her with a finger, and Julia tipped her head up, smiling as he daubed around her mouth and both cheeks.
‘Better?’ she asked as he straightened.
His answer was only a craving look before he moved to the dresser and leaned into the mirror.
‘Don’t,’ she said as he swiped the cloth across his forehead, marring the impressive paint job.
Mick met her gaze in the mirror. ‘You want me to wear this to bed?’
‘Not really, but I can tell you worked really hard on that for the party, even if I did ruin it.’
‘I don’t want get paint all over you. I clean up now, or you clean up later.’
That tone was far from matter of fact. In his own understated way, he told her what he planned to do to her, that the face paint would end up on more than just her cheeks.
Squeezing her thighs together to trap that throb between her legs, Julia fell back on the bed on her elbows, landing in the tangle of her train.
In seconds he had wiped most of the makeup away, leaving only streaks of black, white and grey. He hung the dirty cloth on the edge of the mirror and once more he found her reflection.
‘Time to get out of tight dress.’
Curling her fingers into the bedding, Julia took a moment to enjoy the deep resonance that surrounded her. Desire left her swollen, bursting like a tick in a skin that couldn’t contain her greed a moment longer.
Laughing, she held out her hands. ‘I should make you tell me in French.’
Mick turned around and crossed the room in three long strides. Her hand disappeared in his, and she became light as air as he pulled her to her feet.
He turned her around and pushed the braid over her shoulder. The gesture made her think of Kris, and as he unbuttoned the train she prayed her friend didn’t come knocking in search of her.
The train vanquished at last, Julia kicked it aside as he split open the back of her gown. He wasted no time shucking it off her body, and once more she was knocked off-balance by the hungry sound he made.
‘I prefer this costume,’ he whispered, and ran the back of his hand across her bare ass. ‘Much less trouble.’
To give him the best of her ensemble, Julia placed her hands on her hips. ‘I was hoping I’d get a chance to show it off.’
‘You are fickle. First you send me home with the hard-on and tell me to wait, and now you wear something like this.’
Julia’s laugh became a gasp as he squeezed one cheek. ‘I admit it. It was a terrible idea to send you off. Does the costume make up for it?’
‘Show me.’
As he stepped back, Julia circled around him until Mick took her place against the bed. She slid her hands along the taut ribcage of the bustier, and when he sank down on to the mattress she half-turned.
He wasn’t the only one who preferred this costume. It was almost the same ice-blue colour as her gown, with just a shade more lavender and with black garters that clamped her nude stockings in place. She continued around, and with her back to him she loosened her braid and shook free from it.
‘Your turn. You show me,’ she said, and by the time she had turned he was already pulling his shirt over his head.
He kicked off his boots and kept his gaze upon her as he reclined and worked his buckle. She couldn’t keep eye contact with him when there was so much more to look at.
Puts hair on your chest. The memory of that first exchange sprang to mind as she took in all that bare chest smattered with hair. She hadn’t had much of a chance to ogle when she’d walked in on his photo shoot, but now she got her eyeful. She didn’t think it was possible to want to lay her hands on anything more than she did that broad naked torso, until he lifted his hips and shoved cargo pants and boxers together to his knees.
As he scooted back on to the bed on one elbow, Mick wrapped his hand around his erect cock.
‘You see. You like?’ he asked, nearly toppling Julia with the heart-stopping combination of his soft words and gentle stroking.
She pressed one knee on the bed and flattened her hands on either side of his strong thighs. ‘I like. I like a lot.’
Julia rose up ove
r him. Sitting on his thighs, she met what could only be described as a challenging look as she unhooked her corset.
‘So, do you have some sort of bet with your teammates about getting your French tutor into bed?’ she teased, and laughed at his serious scowl.
‘Sounds like terrible movie,’ he said in a grunt, then lifted his head. His attention was diverted by the bare, swollen flesh between her legs, and his cock twitched against her thigh.
He dropped back on the bed with a sigh. ‘I have not told them. First I talked about it was with reporters the other day.’
The last hook freed, the bustier buckled, but Julia held it against her and pressed her other hand to his chest. ‘Oh, so you have a dirty little secret, do you? That makes me feel a whole lot better, because I’ve had some dirty little secrets in my head about you.’
The resonation from his chest was like a warning from a big cat. He wrenched the corset away from her and tossed it, and Julia gasped as he flipped her.
Another gasp, this one brought on not by surprise but by the crush of his body over hers. Hand in her hair again, he closed his fist and held her in place as he buried his face against her neck.
His kisses seemed to bleed beneath the skin and enter her like fire. That firm pressure of his strength and the softness of his mouth put her at war with herself – one part of her wanted more of the rough, his fist flexing in her hair while he pumped her hard and fast; the other part wanted the sweet torture of his lips and tongue all over her body.
Against her ear he once more unleashed his native tongue, words mere sounds blending together as he neared her mouth. He loosened his fingers, enough for her to turn her face, but her liberation was short-lived as he wedged his hand between her thighs.
‘English,’ she whispered as his muttering continued over her mouth. ‘I want to hear what you say to me.’
He chuckled and gave her a bashful look. ‘I don’t know how to talk that way in English.’
‘I don’t believe that none of those girls taught you to talk dirty,’ she whispered, and drew her legs apart.
Fire & Ice Page 5
