Page 31 of Hotter on Ice

Henning let out a desperate groan and thrust his hips up, deep. He let her set the pace, his hands over her, his hips flexing when he was deepest. He grunted but didn’t say anything, just let her slide up and down his thick cock as the pleasure built. Over and over, he pressed deeper inside her, lighting up her whole body each time, until she was dizzy. His breaths were coming fast and hot, and a sheen of sweat built on his forehead. She knew he wouldn’t let himself come until she did, but he sure as hell felt ready. He was waiting for her.

“You want me to touch you?” His voice was a gravely whisper. “You want me to make you come?”

He said the words like making her come was the hottest thing he could imagine. She nodded, too breathless to speak, and Henning reached between their bodies and stroked her clit. The orgasm crashed through her as she slid down his cock again. He grabbed on to her hips and kept up her pace, as pleasure rolled through her. Then a ragged groan tore through him, and he buried his face into her shoulder as his hips bucked under hers, setting off another wave of ecstasy.

Gasps. Pants. Henning fell back onto the bed, taking her with him. His breath was in her ear, and she closed her eyes and let this be her world. The kind where all this pleasure and happiness was so easy. Where the past fell away, and she and Henning could simply exist like this.

“That was intense,” she said after a while.

His chest rose and fell under her. “The good kind of intense, I hope.”

She smiled. “The amazing kind.”

The kind that will disappear after we leave this place.God, she really didn’t want it to disappear. That last thought was clear and strong, and she struggled to tamp it back down.

Unless...could this be more? Or was that the opposite of standing on her own? Alya swallowed. Later. She could think about that later.

He lifted his head and pressed his lips into her hair. She took in the warmth of his body, the brush of his hair against her stomach, his scent that swirled around her, paying attention to every detail, memorizing this moment.

CHAPTER NINE

“REINDEER?SMOKEDMOOSE?” Alya wrinkled her nose as she scanned the cold buffet. “Not sure about this.”

She took some caviar and lox instead.

Henning eyed her. “Your mother didn’t feed you this stuff, too?”

She shook her head. He served himself a taste of both along with two kinds of pickled herring.

“You’re really going to eat that?”

“When in Sweden...” The right corner of Henning’s mouth twitched up as he gestured to the various dishes and breads and cheeses beautifully laid out on the tables. “Besides, if no one eats the reindeer, then these animals died for nothing.”

His tone was low and intimate, for her ears only, but by the time she opened her mouth to make another comment, the humor in his expression was gone. It was the first hint of lightness she had seen in him since they had watched members of the film crew walk into the restaurant, cameras in hand. And it disappeared so quickly.

The rest of the day had been full, with a second photo session in the Icebar and a relatively painless interview. Dinner with the photo shoot crew didn’t sound very appealing, but after eating in their room for the last few meals, Alya decided they should venture out for dinner, not just for her job but for Henning and her. To take the little cocoon of intimacy they had found out into the world, just to see what happened. But the cool, distant expression on Henning’s face when they headed out of the room and through the snow had her second-guessing this idea. The moment they left the hotel building, crossing through the cold darkness of the Swedish night to the little restaurant, he was back to being the man who sat next to her on the plane, the impassive bodyguard who was there to protect her with his life. Exactly what he was hired for. Except now, she was watching him, too.

It was clear that he hated the fashion scene. Though his expression was flat, hard, she read every one of his tells: the working of his jaw as industry snark hummed from the tables, the flexing of his large hands at every stray gaze that lingered on her, the narrowing of his eyes when gazes lingered on him instead. Was his aversion to this scene worse now than when they arrived, or was she just more able to read it? Yes, it had all led to some amazing sex, but watching him right now was driving home the point that all of this had a cost for him.

Still, she was also sure he walked into this job with no illusions, so why was his reaction bothering her? What had she expected? That a few incredibly intense encounters would somehow change the world they lived in? She shouldn’t even care since this was all over as soon as they left the place, and yet she did.

“You okay?” Henning’s rough voice cut into her thoughts.

“Of course.” She gave him a real smile, and his expression softened.

He gestured to an empty table in the corner. “I’ll be in the back if you need anything.”

Alya opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. She didn’tneedHenning. But watching him choose to walk away, to sit in the corner instead of next to her made her insides sink.

Alya frowned. She was here for work, not fooling around with her hot, surprisingly tender bodyguard. This was probably what her mother sounded like, right before she followed husband number two to another country, dragging young Alya and Natasha behind her, letting it all play out in public. Alya hadn’t expected the public drama Nick tried to stir up after she broke up with him. With the intensity of the last couple days, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was getting on yet another emotional rollercoaster that would somehow end badly. That despite all her efforts to avoid her mother’s path, she still kept stumbling back onto those tracks.

But she and Henning were just having a few days of fun, nothing more. She could worry about all these complications later, after she was done with this job. They still had tonight alone in the Icehotel, plus a little time tomorrow before they got back on the plane.

So she straightened up and made her way to an empty chair at the table with Jean Pierre and two of the other models. She sat down and nodded to them, searching her brain for their names... Audrey and Katherine.

“Saw your interview this afternoon,” said Audrey, glancing over at the film crew, just a few tables away. “Nice job dodging the question about Nick Bancroft’s statements about you.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I knew it was coming, and truthfully, I thought she’d press harder. I’m just hoping that being professional and open with the interviewer will be the best answer to anything Nick said about myinstability.” She put air quotes around that last word. “But I’ll probably get another form of that question tomorrow.”