Page 109 of Crack the Ice

Leaning in, I drag my nose up the side of her neck, preening when she tilts her head to the side to give me more space to cover. “You,” I growl against her ear before I bite down on it.

“Mav,” she moans. “We can’t do this here. Someone will see, and I don’t have time to disinfect before we open.”

“But you want to?”

“Yes,” she says, lifting her leg so that her shin brushes against my balls.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

“You have a game tonight,” she states, running her foot down the back of my thigh.

“I do.”

She hums, leaning back on the counter with her hands behind her. “Wanna make a deal?”

Color me intrigued, though my brain is not firing on all cylinders because the toe of her shoe is currently brushing across the front of me. “Cecy, you’re killing me here.”

“That’s the point, Captain.”

She slides down the front of me, hands wrapping around my biceps, her body pinned between me and the counter. The warmth of her tongue as it runs up the side of my neck sends a shiver through my body, teasing me the same way I’d teased her.

“For every goal you score, you get to put this frosting on one spot, any spot on my body, and get it off however you please.”

I’m going to pass out right here with that visual.

“That way, you can have your two favorite things in your mouth at the same time.”

Sweet mother of God. Yep, this is how I go, and what a fucking way to do it.

“I may even wear your jersey, let you peel that off me too.” She places a kiss right under my ear before she sucks, hard. I hope that leaves a mark. “Or not, maybe you can leave that on, and do what we talked about in the tree all those years ago.”

I bite down on my knuckles. She’s trying to kill me, I’m convinced. Reverse cowgirl, my name on her back as she uses me like the pathetic little toy she reduces me to.

“Baby,” I rasp, chest heaving, the lingering taste of a cupcake made just for me on my taste buds, begging to be mixed with the essence of her. “I can’t wait.”

“You will. Otherwise you’ll sit on the bed and watch me make myself come, over and over and over until you’re begging me to let you touch.”

“You’re evil, Cecilia Samuels,” I grunt, cursing under my breath.

Her eyes hold an unspoken challenge, high-stakes, yet the ball is completely in my court. I reach out, fingers digging into both sides of her cheeks hard enough for the skin around them to turn white. If she wants to play, I’ll play.

“You want to play with fire, baby? Fucking burn me. I’ll still thank you at the end of it.” The words are rough, husky, and I don’t give her a chance to respond before I take her mouth with my own.

I pour every bit of what I’m feeling into it, hoping it’ll convey just how determined I am to win at her little game. When she doesn’t immediately open for me, I squeeze my fingers until her mouth pops open with a gasp.

Yes baby.

“I love it when you make me work for it, turns me the fuck on.” I groan before I harshly push my tongue into her mouth. She tastes like sugar and brattiness of the best kind. Such an intoxicating mix that it makes blood roar to life in my ears.

A sharp, ragged breath passes through her lips, making me even more feral as I press further into her. I drink it in, her, her sounds, her taste, all of it. Of course, my woman doesn’t back down. No, she meets me stroke for stroke, hands fisting in the back of my hair, pulling hard enough to make me hiss.

Her lips pull into a smile against my lips at the sound, and damn does that turn me on even more. Heat, defiance, and the competitive streak we’ve had our entire lives, though usually that wasn’t used against one another. I’m not mad about it now.

I move my mouth along the smooth skin of her jaw, alternating between kisses and small nips, her labored breaths vibrating against my chest as I move down the column of her neck. I’m nearing my limit, the line she just told me I couldn’t cross here, even if it’s abundantly clear we both want to blow clear past it.

Every nerve ending is tuned into her, her wants, her needs, her coming apart in my arms. With one last kiss to her collarbone, I tangle my hands in her hair, tilting her head to the side as I bring my lips to her ear. “Cecilia Reed sounds a hell of a lot better,” I say before I let my hands fall and take a giant step back.

Her eyes narrow, frowning at the space between us, but she asked for this. She wants to test me, and I’ll play along. She should know by now how eager I am to fight for what I want. And what I want is her with my name on her back and my damn ring on her finger.