Page 27 of Hotter on Ice

Henning wrapped his arms around her legs and urged her to sit on top of him, so she was straddling him much like she had in the car. But this time if felt different. More intimate. She rested her hands on his bare arms and explored the heat, the solid muscle, as her towel loosened from around her chest. Henning leaned in closer, dropping a trail of kisses down her neck. “How do you want to relax? Tell me what you’d like.”

Alya pulled back a little and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What about what you’d like?”

“I’d like anything with you, Alya,” he said, his face solemn. “Anything.”

She had never met a man who had so seriously professed his interest without asking for something in return, and it still threw her off a little. Nick had been so closed off when they were alone, which was partly why the intensity of his pursuit had surprised her after she broke up with him. And the restraining order she took out only seemed to make him more determined. But now wasn’t the time to think about Nick.

She focused on Henning, so close. “How about for everything I tell you I like, I get to take off one piece of your clothing.”

Henning laughed. “If that’s what you want.” He gave her a sexy wink. “I’m willing to get naked in exchange for a peek into your mind.” His hands moved up and down her back and slow caresses. He kissed her neck again and then her collarbone. “You first.”

“I really like this position right here,” she said, running her hands up his biceps and over his shoulders. “You’re here right in front of me. I can touch you and explore you and look at you.”

“And that’s what you want?” His voice was getting a little deeper.

“Yes.” She fingered the edge of his T-shirt. “This first.”

He chuckled. “Not my socks? You don’t have a thing for my feet?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

“Do you?” His dark eyes sparkled.

She shook her finger at him. “Not your turn to ask questions.”

Henning’s smile was full of warmth and humor. “Fine. Undress me.”

Alya took her time, moving her hands over his wide, rounded shoulders, over the broad flat planes of his chest and down his stomach. He was muscle all over, hard, ripped muscles that flexed under her touch. His breath quickened as she moved lower. She lifted the hem of his T-shirt and found the top of his jeans. Slowly, she ran her fingers underneath the material. He drew in a sharp hiss, then gave a harsh bark of a laugh. “Does this all count as undressing?”

“It’s the best part,” she whispered.

Instead of pulling up his shirt, she placed her hands on his waist and slid them up, exploring, inching the material up.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered. “Is this how you plan to take off everything I’m wearing?”

“Hell, yes.” Alya laughed.

He shook his head slowly. “You better have some good answers to my questions.”

Her hands traveled higher, and when she reached his arms, he lifted them for her to ease off his shirt. She pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor, then leaned back to take him in.

God, was he magnificent. He seemed to be made of an entirely different substance than she was, his muscles carved and rock-solid even in their resting state. He had very little hair on his chest, just a dusting around his nipples and a dark trail down the center of his abs that disappeared into his jeans. So intimate. So sensual. Slivers of light shimmered from between the curtains, dancing up and down the sculpted muscles of Henning’s chest. Damn, this man was ripped. The level of fitness that a body like that required spoke to his determination and persistence, especially considering his job was now entirely behind a desk in the IT department. Yet he kept his body in such incredible condition that Alya couldn’t help but wonder if he was still preparing for a night that ended long ago.

Either way he was hot. And real. The tufts of hair under his arms and down his stomach looked soft and inviting, but this was a body meant for action. Alya smiled. And no doubt he used his body for action of all kinds.

Her gaze traveled up to his face, and she found him smiling back at her.

“You like what you see, baby?”

Baby. She had never liked that term of endearment before, but it sounded just right out of his mouth.

“Yes,” she whispered, continuing her explorations back up his chest. His scars weren’t visible from the front, just a hint of them on his left shoulder was all she could see. Slowly, she moved her hands higher. Closer. She reached his shoulder and let her fingers glide to his neck, tracing his scar down.

That’s when she felt more of them. The rise of scars along one side of his back, some long, some shorter. When she looked up at his face again, his smile had faded, and his eyes were dark.

“When glass explodes, it’s like a spray of bullets everywhere,” said Henning quietly. “We were in a warehouse, where these crazy fuckers were cooking ice on a large scale. One of my team members and I went in first, just to take a look, to see what we were dealing with, to try to contain the danger. Thank God I held back the rest of my team because the gang leader set it off on purpose. He even killed some of his own crew, just so he could escape. I got lucky, no burns, but Sanjay, my team member, he got a piece of glass right in an artery. I stayed with him instead of following the leader, but he bled out before help came. I have these scars to remember him by.”

A heaviness squeezed at her chest. He carried this with him every day. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She knew her comment was like putting a Band-Aid on a severed limb, but she said it anyway.