One hand on the wall beside her, I bring the other up so I can press the ice cube against her scalp, through the part in her hair. Immediately, she breaks out in a fresh round of chills, her whole body rippling from the sudden cold.
“This should help,” I say, voice gruff. My version of soft.
Dragging the ice cube down her head until it hits the back of her neck, she lets out a moan and lets her head fall back against the wall, eyes slamming shut.
“That feel good?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, the little liar.
“No?”
This time she doesn’t answer. I let my hand drift, rubbing the ice cube across the base of her neck, down around to the column of her throat, and there’s no mistaking the moan she makes when a single drop of water runs from the dip in her collarbone down into the valley between her full breasts.
If her nipples were attentive before, they’re downright eager now. I don’t think it’s from the cold. They’re begging for attention I’d love to give them.
“I’m good,” she tries to grit the words out, but it’s more like a whimper.
My kinda woman.
My feral grin can’t be contained. “Is that why you’re grinding on my thigh?”
Her head drops down, shocked to see that her body seems to have a mind of its own, hips moving softly back and forth againstmy thigh for pressure as I work the ice cube over her flushed skin.
“Oh my God.” She straightens up, embarrassed.
“I’d be happy to turn you into a believer, but in the kitchen, you can call me Chef.”
“Excuse me, Chef,” she says tersely. My newest obsession finally realizes her hands are still kneading my abs, and she pulls them back, flushing even harder. Her body knows what she wants, even if her head tries to deny herself.
A purr rumbles deep in my throat. “I didn’t say stop.”
That light in her eyes that was doused with the chill of embarrassment comes flaring back to life. A hunger I recognize, one that’s echoed in me.
“Keep going,bella. Take what you need.”
My eyes drop to the ice cube still in my hand, still on her skin, and I let it drift farther south, melting as it dips between her breasts. I watch the goosebumps that erupt around it as it slides over her sensitive skin.
The gorgeous woman whimpers again, hips moving once more, but I’m not sure she meant to do that one either.
That won’t do. I want this girlunleashed, I want her as unhinged for me as I am for her. Not in her head, stopping herself from what we both know she wants. What’s been brewing between us, bubbling under the surface since the moment she looked at me like she wanted to hang me by my entrails.
This tension between us is the kind that only gets worked out in the bedroom, but it’s her call.
“I don’t need anything.” Her voice wavers, and her hips shift again.
One of my dark brows flies up. “So, we’re just gonna pretend you’re not dripping all over my thigh right now, straight through those jeans?”
Another sound is strangled in her throat, and my eyes fall to it, wondering how it would feel to put my hand around it as she rides me. Wondering how long it’ll take for me to find out.
“I hate you,” she says in a throaty whisper, less volume, less effort to stop herself from giving in this time. A final half-hearted attempt to pretend this isn’t what we both need from one another.
“You don’t hate my thigh.”
I shake my head at her, still teasing her with the ice, dragging it side to side, letting her reactions guide my hand.
“This can be our little secret. The way you’re grinding your clit on my leg is just for me,bella. How pretty your tits look underneath this ice, the face you’re gonna make when you come all over me, that’ll be just between us.”
Her face breaks, eyes rolling back in pleasure, her lip quivering between her teeth, and those fierce eyes open again and sharpen on mine. Desire shines back at me.
