Page 95 of Ice Queen

“I’ll let you know when I land,” he says, hiking his bag onto his shoulder.

“Okay.”

He pauses, looking at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I smile, his body visibly relaxing. “I’m just going to miss you.”

He closes the distance, cupping the side of my face in one hand. He tilts my chin and kisses me so slowly that I lose the last of the thread that was holding me together. His thumb brushes my cheek when he pulls back.

“I’m going to miss you too.” One more kiss and then he’s gone.

As I stand in the doorway, I smile to myself, recalling the events that have transpired over the last twenty-four hours. This man flew home in between games, just to spend the night with me. He wanted to be with me. Butterflies brush against the inside of my ribs as the sound of his truck gets further away. Wyatt would have never done something like that.

I remember when we first got together in college, and he found the small collection of toys I had at that point. At first, he played it cool. He wanted to know what they were for, how they worked, how they made me feel. I didn’t know how to articulate it then, but when we moved in together years later, and he caught me using one without him. He told me it was “cheating” to wring pleasure from myself when he could do it for me. Though he never did.

I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d pick up my favorite little bullet and use it. But instead, he threw them all away and called me a slut for having them in the first place. He would have lost his mind if he knew my high school boyfriend was the son of kink club owners. That I’d spent years learning about my body, and the things that made me feel good. Not that they let us go to the club or watch anything of a sexual nature, but his mom talked to me about it all the time. She took the sting and the shame out of it. Only small-minded men had a problem with women who know what they want, she’d told me.

“They don’t like it when you can do it better than they can, it makes them feel threatened,” she had said. “Knowledge is power, Kaitlyn. If you don’t know what makes you feel good, you’ll never hold that power.”

I didn’t understand it until I read my first spicy book with my roommates in college. Those pages became a safe place for me to explore, to get to know myself, and experience things I wouldn’t get to otherwise. I got to know myself in a way I didn’t know was possible. It allowed me to step into the power that is self-knowledge.

She was right. The second Wyatt caught wind of that, he did everything he could to dismantle it brick by brick.

But Markus? No, he handed over that power. He let me drive, and when he was done with that, he took over. My body was more than willing to submit because he did first. He listened, he watched, he applied. He made me feel like it was the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. It felt safe, and maybe a bit like love.

Walking toward the kitchen, I realize this is new. Missing someone the second they leave, wanting them to come back, with no underlying fear beneath it. I hope this feeling never goes away. I deserve to have someone worth missing.

CHAPTER 31

Markus

May 20, Conference Finals: Game 4 - New York

“Okay, Broskis.” Monroe claps as he walks into the locker room. The dude has way too much energy right now. It’s six a.m., and we haven’t even warmed up yet. But I guess, with his lack of sleep on the regular now that he's a dad, he doesn’t need as much as the rest of us do.

Well, I need more sleep than normal because I once again had a nightmare. For the first time in months, I had the urge to drink, and I hate it. I think the playoffs are getting the better of me. Being on the road, away from her, it’s exhausting, and my mind isn’t regulating like it normally does, or maybe this is normal, and how I am with her is the exception.

Kait and I spent hours on the phone last night. Luckily, my headphones were charged, and she read me one of her spicy books until we both fell asleep. She was right, her bedroom voice is way sexier than her customer service voice.

Monroe plops down on the bench next to me, rubbing his hands together in a way that tells me he’s got some plan up his sleeve. “It’s time to cash in on our bet,” he says, looking between me, Andrews, and Wilson.

“What bet?” Wilder chimes in.

“Ohhh, Wildey! Do you want in?” Monroe asks with a wiggle of his brow.

Wilder shakes his head back and forth. “Nope, not until I know what I’m agreeing to.”

“Tattoos!” Andrews calls from across the room. He doesn’t look up from where he’s strapping on his goalie pads.

“Tattoos,” Wilder slowly repeats, his forehead creasing as he looks between us all.

The four of us nod, patiently waiting for him to decide if he’s going to join us or not.

Wilson scrubs his hand across his beard, trying to hide his smile. “I mean, you could get that piercing Hannah keeps dropping hints at.”

My head falls forward, shaking with laughter because I know Wilder’s face is twelve shades of red right now. Hannah keeps pretending she wants him to get a Jacob’s ladder. We know she’s kidding, but he doesn’t. She overheard us talking about it one time and hasn’t let it go since.

His hands cover his crotch. “Nah, tattoos are fine.”