Page 92 of Crack the Ice

I angle my body away from her, but to my surprise, Cecy’s there also, stepping in front of me, effectively blocking my lower half. How considerate.

“Cade’s girlfriend is going to be there. Do I have permission to mess with him?” she whispers loudly through cupped hands.

Oh man, she just sealed her brother’s fate. If Sammy knows, Monroe will know, and “Uncle Lucas” is the prank king. If Cecilia wasn’t rubbing her ass against me in the most discreet way, I’d say screw it, we’re going too. Just to witness the chaos.

“A girlfriend?” Sammy’s lip ring disappears through his lip before poking out the other side. “When did that happen?” he asks, looking at me.

“Tonight is the first I’ve heard of it.” I wrap my arms around Cecy’s waist, fingers digging into her hips.

“Huh, well, I’ll keep you updated on that.”

Cade strolls in wearing his team logo sweats, a Henley, and a backward hat. Cecy chokes on a laugh when she sees him. “Oh, he’s definitely got a crush. He looks just like you when you’re trying to rile me up without saying a word.”

“Good God, Cecy.” Sammy’s face twists. “Boundaries, remember?”

She swats her hand through the air, shooing him away. “Have a good night. I know we will,” she calls, ignoring her brother’s overdramatic dry heaving as she closes the door behind them.

The second the lock clicks, I have her over my shoulder, running to my room. Her high-pitched squeals mixed with genuine laughter egging me on. I slow when we get outside her room, but then think better of it. I want her in my bed. I want her scent on my sheets. I want to be surrounded by her all the time.

Kicking my door closed behind me, I lock that one too, just in case, before tossing her on the bed. She bounces softly, kicking her shoes off before they have a chance to touch my sheets. Her pointed toes touch the comforter, slowly dragging until I get the perfect view of her clothed pussy.

“Does this mean we’re skipping dinner?”

I toe off my shoes, taking one step and then another, bringing me to the edge of the bed with her in touching distance. My mouth waters as my hands fall to her knees, and I slowly drag them up the tops of her thighs until I reach the crease of her hips. The air seems to thicken the second my knees hit the floor, causing her eyes to flare, dilating right in front of me.

“You are dinner,” I whisper, turning my head to bite down on the inside of her leg, never breaking eye contact. “I’m fucking famished, Cecilia.”

Slowly, I run my palms over her hips until I’m reaching around to cup her ass. She sucks in a breath of air, heavy-lidded eyes stare down at me, her chest heaving, lips parting. God, she’s fucking stunning.

My stomach flips, my palms sweating as I stare at my dream girl, trying to figure out how I got lucky enough to have her here like this again.

Her chin raises in challenge when I don’t move. “Go on then.” She drags her tongue across the seam of her lips. “Eat.”

Whatever hold I had left of my sanity snaps the second the word leaves her mouth. My fingers wrap around her waistband, pulling the soft material of her joggers down in one go. She’s bare, no freaking underwear, not an ounce of hair, endless smooth skin, and a… fuck.

My heart that was hammering seconds ago, seems to have gone still in my chest as I see the visible evidence of our time apart. Raised skin in the thinnest of lines sits on otherwise flawless skin. Flowers, the same ones that crawl up the side of my house, are tattooed around it as if the scar is the vine that gives them life.

My fingers drag up her leg, loving the goosebumps that appear in their wake before they move to the scar cutting across the middle of her hips.

She tenses, hand covering the silvery skin. “Don’t,” she whispers, almost as if she forgot it was there.

I look up at her through my lashes, gently moving her hand to the side while I press a kiss to the center of it.

“No, you don’t get to hide yourself from me.” I kiss it again, moving to the left a bit. “This is part of you, part of our story. We’ll have good days together, bad days together, our hearts will break together, Cecy. But you will never carry this alone again.”

A tear trails down her cheek, and I ache to swipe it away, but I don’t.

“It’s ugly. I tried to make it prettier, but… It’s a reminder of the way my body failed me. Failed us.”

I freeze, lips hovering above the right side of her stomach. “Don’t talk about my woman that way. Nothing about you is ugly. This is a battle scar.” I run my fingers over it once more. “Proof that you’re still here, that you fought and won.”

“You’re doing it again,” she whispers.

“Doing what?”

“Being a gentleman.” A smirk pulls at her lips as she watches me. “I thought you were hungry.”

I see it for what it is, a redirection. She’s not ready to talk about it. I’m not going to push her. Plus, with her bare pussy inches from my face, it’s hard to think straight. My fingers move from her scar to the bundles of nerves just begging for my attention.