Page 29 of Hotter on Ice

“Right afterward.” His answer was half words, half groan. “I thought about all the ways I’d make it better for you.” He paused again. “I’m being honest with you because you should know this. And if it doesn’t feel good, we should stop.”

She shook her head. “I thought about it, too. I wondered if you were watching.”

“And you didn’t stop?”

She leaned forward and whispered, “It turned me on. I wanted you to watch.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You thought about me while you were fucking your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

His cock was throbbing in his jeans, moving against her clit.

She scooted back on his legs until her feet reached the floor. She took a couple steps back and then fingered the towel wrapped around her. His gaze was fixed on her hands, so she took her time as she opened it, letting one side fall. Henning’s lips parted, and he muttered something under his breath.

“You owe me a piece of clothing.” She smiled a little. “Stand up.”

Slowly, he rose. Her heart thumped in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. Damn, he really was a big man. Alya laid the towel in front of her and knelt down on the floor, the bulge in his pants at eye level now. He was so close, and tension radiated from him, but he stood absolutely still.

She reached up to find the button of his jeans and unfastened it. His breath was a harsh gasp.

“Did you ever see me suck him off?” she whispered. A rough noise escaped from his mouth as she pulled down his zipper. “Did you think about what it would feel like to have your cock in my mouth?” A string of curses came next, and, damn, it was hot. “You want to find out?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Fuck, yes.”

Alya’s heart jumped in her chest. Her body was on high alert, in tune with his every movement. This was the ultimate high, the moment when she knew this guarded, dark man let himself want. And he wantedher. Henning was staring down at her with rawness that made her come alive.

His jeans hung on his hips, open, his cock pushing at the material of his boxers. She was so close she could smell the heavy scent of sex from him. God, this man turned her on, and she wasn’t going to worry about all the reasons why right now. She looked up at him, into this stormy darkness of his eyes, and all she could think about was the ways to make that storm ride higher.

“I think the next piece of clothing I’ll take off is your boxers,” she said.

“I see.” His eyes narrowed, and his smile was dark. “You like to play dirty? I’ll remember that.”

Alya laughed. “I’m sure you will.”

His smile faded as she slid her fingers under the top of his boxers. His cock was moving, straining against the material, but he made no effort to adjust it. What would he taste like? The cut muscles of his stomach tensed and moved every time her fingers brushed over his skin. She traced the trail of hair down his abs, to his boxers. Then, slowly, she lowered them, taking his jeans, too. Lower. His hands flexed and balled by his side, but he didn’t move to help or speed it up, just waited for her, letting her take her time.

His boxers came lower, stretching over the enormous erection buried in his jeans, until finally it came free. His cock bobbed up, close to her mouth. She exhaled, and his whole body shuddered.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” she said, smiling. “I like how big your cock is.”

His laugh was short, and he brushed his hand over her cheek. “I’ll use it to make it good for you. Really good.”

God, she wanted to taste him right now, but this man was all about restraint. She wanted so badly to test the boundaries of that restraint. So instead she concentrated on his boxers, easing them down his legs until they were in a pile on the floor with his jeans. She nudged his feet, and he stepped out. Then Alya sat back on her heels and sized him up.

His skin was golden bronze, a little darker on his chest and lower legs from the sun, but also around his cock. Lord, that cock. It was thick and long and hard to the point that it looked painful. He had both the disposition and the body of a warrior—stoic, ready, with those thick, well-honed muscles. It was easy to understand why the police force had its appeal, and she wondered where he channeled all that energy now. Another query for another time. If there was one.

She pressed her hands on his legs, tracing the edges of his thigh muscles, exploring the insides with her thumbs, moving higher, getting a feel for him.

“I’ve never taken my time with the undressing part,” she said. “Usually I just jump right in.”

Henning let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, we’re certainly taking our time today.”

Alya suppressed her smile of satisfaction. His voice was full of growly frustration, but still he didn’t rush her. Her hands came higher, higher, until she reached the juncture of his legs.

“I have to ask,” she said, looking up at him. “Have you been tested recently?”

He nodded. “I’m clean. You?”