Aurora
Somerset House takes my breath away.
I'd seen pictures online, but nothing could've prepared me for the sheer beauty of the real thing. The courtyard has been transformed into a winter wonderland, the ice rink at its centre surrounded by twinkling lights and a towering Christmas tree. The neoclassical architecture provides a stunning backdrop, all elegant columns and arches lit up for the holidays.
It's like nothing I could've imagined, and yet, somehow, everything I could've dreamed.
“This is incredible.” The words come out on a breath, my eyes blown wide as I take it all in.
“Come on.” Cole's words find my ears as his hand comes to rest gently on the small of my back. “Let's get our skates on.”
The casual intimacy of his touch sends warmth flooding through me despite the November cold.
I feel hyper aware of him following the moment we’d shared in the sweater shop, surrounded by blinking reindeer, tinsel, andthe most delightfully ugly Christmas sweaters, with our gazes fixed on one another. The air between us had been thick and charged when I caught a glimpse of his abs, those same perfectly defined muscles I'd traced with my hands last night, that I'd kissed my way down as he'd groaned my name.
When he’d stepped closer with his eyes dropping to my lips, I'd been certain he was going to kiss me. I’d desperately wanted him to. My heart had hammered against my ribs, my breath had caught, and for one endless second, I'd thought about dragging him into a changing room to recreate last night's magic.
But then the owner had called us, breaking the spell, and we'd stepped apart. I'd assumed that was it—the natural end to our spontaneous adventure, the moment reality crept back in. I'd already been mourning it, mourninghim, even as I'd tried to memorise every detail of his face.
But then he'd surprised me in the best way. The man who plans everything and thinks efficiency is a way of life had looked at me with those deep-green eyes still dark with desire and told me he wanted to take me skating.
Warmth floods my chest at the recollection as I let him lead me to the booth where we rent our skates, then head to the ice. Considering I’ve not skated since I was a teenager, my first few steps onto the ice are wobbly at best.
Verywobbly, actually.
“Easy,” Cole says, suddenly at my elbow. His hand finds the small of my back again, steadying me, and I'm acutely aware of his touch even through my thick woollen coat. The memory of those strong hands on my bare skin makes my breath hitch. “I've got you, Sweetheart.”
Just like he had me last night with his mouth hot on mine as he murmured promises about what he wanted to do to me.
Now isnotthe time for that, Rory!
“You can skate?” I ask, surprised by how confidently he moves on the ice, trying to focus on anything other than the way my body remembers his.
He grins, a hint of pride in his expression. “Just picked it up,” he says with an easy shrug. “I'm not really a halfway kind of guy. When I do something, I give it one hundred percent.”
My cheeks flush at the memory of exactly how thoroughly he does everything. How he'd taken his time learning every inch of my body, every sound I made, every touch that made me gasp his name. How he'd been completely focused on my pleasure before his own.
Focus!
“One hundred percent?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips despite the heat pooling low in my belly. “So you're saying you're an overachiever.”
“I prefer'thorough,'“ he counters, his eyes glinting with something dark and knowing. “When I commit to learning something, I make sure I master it properly.”
Holy shit.
The way he saysmaster, combined with the sinfully wicked memories at the forefront of my mind right now, makes me grateful for the cold air cooling my overheated cheeks. From the slight curve of his mouth, he knows exactly what he's doing. Knowsexactlywhere my thoughts have drifted.
“How admirable,” I manage, my voice breathier than intended.
“I find it's always better to exceed expectations,” he says as he skates a little closer. His voice drops lower, intimate despite the crowd around us. “Don’t you think, Sweetheart?”
“I suppose that depends on what you're trying to master,” I say, surprised by my own boldness.
His jaw tics as his eyes darken. “Indeed.”
The word hangs between us, loaded with promise. Then I notice something—we've been gliding smoothly across the ice this entire time, my feet moving with a confidence I didn't have before. I've been so caught up in our banter, in the sheer sexual tension crackling between us, that I completely forgot to be nervous.
“You distracted me,” I accuse, though I can't keep the thrilled smile off my face.
