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I suck air through my teeth. “That was cold, Scar. Ice-cold.”
“Ice-cold is my specialty. They called me the Ice Queen in Calgary for a reason.”
“Calgary breeds assholes like they’re scared they’ll eventually run out. I hope you didn’t take it seriously.”
After having that brief interview with one of Scarlett’s old teammates, Lilliana, and witnessing how she talked down to my woman, it’s easy to imagine the environment back on that team. The thought of Scarlett being spoken to like that on a daily basis upsets me deeply.
“I didn’t really care. I wasn’t there to make friends.”
I frown. “They should have been your friends, though. Teammates are supposed to be like family.”
“I am what I am, and not everyone likes that. If I wanted to be all sunshiny like you, I would.”
I spin to face her and cup her head in my hands. She stops breathing for a second before releasing a slow breath and blinking up at me with curious eyes.
“You don’t feel cold, Scarlett. If I’m the sun, then you’re my warmth.”
25
SCARLETT
His words sever the last of my self-control.
With my heart in my throat, I lean up and press my lips to his.
It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s greedy, an attack of pent-up frustration and a connection deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced. I inhale his groan and give him one of my own.
His hands slip through the curls at my nape and tilt my head to deepen the kiss. Flutters erupt everywhere. Under my skin, in my belly, between my legs.
When his tongue parts my lips and sneaks inside, I press my hands to his chest and curl my fingers in his shirt, desperate to gain some stability as lust and desire rock the world beneath my feet.
Our bodies couldn’t be closer, yet that’s exactly what I want. Suddenly, I drop my hands to the bottom of his shirt and slip them beneath it. I gasp when I feel the hard, hot skin of his abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of me as I start to explore Adam’s body. Coarse hairs tickle my palms when I brush my fingers along the thick ridges running up his stomach.
He rips his mouth from mine when I lightly scratch at the line between his abs. His eyes are dark, blown with desire.
“You’re killing me, Scar,” he rasps.
I nod subconsciously but can’t bring myself to stop touching him. Instead, I drift my hands further up his body, brushing the sharp nipples on his pecs and then back down again.
His hands fall from my hair and incite a sigh from me when they sneak beneath my shirt and begin to creep higher and higher. My heart jolts when his thumbs brush the underside of my bra, rubbing back and forth but never slipping under.
“You were going to tell me something. That’s why we’re here,” he murmurs against my lips.
I shake my head once. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Not when you’re touching me like this.
He breaks the kiss then, leaning back the slightest bit. “It does. It matters. I won’t take advantage of you.”
“You wouldn’t be. I just don’t care anymore. I want you to keep touching me like this.”
His expression morphs into one of pain. “I will. I’ll touch you all fucking night once you tell me.”
My words come out in a frustrated rush. “I don’t just orgasm. Okay? When I do, it . . . I get messy. God, this is embarrassing.”
Adam’s eyes fill with intrigue. “How often does it happen? Every time?”
“Mostly when I’m really turned on,” I answer sheepishly. My skin is on fire. “There’s no real telling it will happen until it does.”
“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever been told, Scarlett. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about that.”
