by Sarina Bowen
It didn’t have to be a statement. It could be just an evening with someone she liked. A whole lot.
She lifted her chin. His blue gaze waited at close range. They came together in slow motion. The first brush of her lips across his made him groan. She loved that sound. So she kissed him properly. His lips were just as firm and soft as she remembered. Strong arms pulled her in. He tilted his head to the side to improve their connection. She threaded her fingers through his hair as his mouth made a sweet, eager pull against her own, and she sighed.
Why had she been fighting this, exactly?
He kissed her again and again. Her libido sprang up and did a perfect sun salutation, her skin coming alive everywhere they touched. Maybe it was the ice skates, but the next kiss made her wobble.
Catching her, he chuckled into her mouth. “Easy.”
She was breathing hard, and not from the skating. They couldn’t get so carried away—not until they got home, anyway. “You dragged me out here,” she said, trying to cool down. “Let’s skate.”
“All right. Show me some more of your fancy moves. You did some figure skating?”
“Yeah. In middle school. But then it got really competitive and I stopped. I liked the skating more than I liked the pressure.”
“Ah.”
She grabbed his hand. “Come on, you can be my partner. Back crossovers.”
His smile was amused as they began to cross the ice backward, hand in hand. “Do I get to hold your butt and hoist you over my head?”
“I don’t think we’re up to that.”
“Skate with me, sweetheart.” He gave her hand a tug.
She turned, allowing him to grasp her free hand. They were face to face, with him skating backward. She reached up to put a hand on his shoulder, mindful to keep her strides in synch with his so their feet wouldn’t tangle. She’d never skated with a partner before. It was harder than it looked on TV.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, slipping a hand onto her waist. “I’ve got you.” He kept his stride nice and even, and she discovered she didn’t have to look down to know where his feet were.
“Fancy,” she breathed as they glided past the penalty box.
“I’ll show you fancy.” He grabbed her hips and lifted.
Suddenly she was airborne, her hip on his broad shoulder. It might have looked cool, except for the fact that she hugged his head in terror. Laughing, he skated in a tight circle, spinning her until she let out a shriek. Strong arms slowly lowered her back toward the ice, and he came to a stop before setting her down.
“That was terrifying,” she complained, although the dizzy smile on her face made her a liar.
He kissed her forehead. “I’m hoping for a ten from the Russian judge.”
“Omigod!” a voice squeaked from nearly. “You guys are adorable. I could kill myself for not having my Katt Phone handy . . . Whoa!”
There was a small thud, and Ari looked behind Patrick to find Rebecca sprawled out on the ice. “Becca! Are you okay?”
She scrambled over to Becca just as her friend lifted her head. “Fuck!”
“Here.” Ari offered a hand, but Patrick was quicker. He crouched down and scooped Rebecca up off the slick surface and set her on her feet.
“This is so embarrassing,” Becca said, rubbing a hand along her jaw. “You two were having so much fun, though. I realized I’d never set foot on this ice in two years. But I should have gone for three.”
“Are you okay?” Ari asked for the second time.
“Of course,” her friend said.
But she was leaning on Patrick, and Ari didn’t like the weird squint she was making. “Just humor me and sit down for a minute.”
Becca grumbled, but she let herself be led off the ice and over to a bench where she sat down heavily. “I was just looking for you,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Henry said he forgot to ask you in the meeting whether your hands are okay for a full slate of massage appointments tomorrow. He couldn’t find you but your phone was still in the building.”
“My hands are fine,” she said quickly. “Did you hit your head?”
“No.” Becca sat up straighter. “I’m fine, I swear. And I don’t want to interrupt date night or whatever.”
Patrick gave her a smile over Becca’s head. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Is it date night?
Ari supposed it was. She sat down and began to remove her skates. “We were just about done skating anyway,” she reassured her friend. “Want to get some dinner?”
“Nope.” Becca stood up slowly. “But I want you two to get some dinner. Together, in case that wasn’t clear.”
“Subtle,” Ari murmured.
“I don’t do subtle.” Becca gave a wave and walked toward the door. “See you in the morning!”
Patrick waited until she was out of earshot to ask, “Want to get dinner?”
“Subtle,” Ari said, and he grinned. “Sure. Let’s do that.”
He checked his watch. “It’s only four thirty, though. Too early for dinner.”
“Hmm.” Ari put her own shoes back on. “How will we pass the time?”
When she looked up, Patrick gave her a slow grin. “I have a few ideas.”
“So do I.”
THIRTY-TWO
As it turned out, Ari’s idea for how to pass the time was not the same as his. She dragged him to the grocery store. “It’s been a while since I cooked a good meal,” she explained. “I miss it.”
Who was he to get in the way of that? Besides, she was really fucking cute as she inspected the tomatoes and bullied the fish guy into giving her the best salmon filets.
“Your kitchen or mine?” he asked, carrying the bags out of the store.
“Hmm. You have that awesome Wolf range that I covet. But do you have a good sauté pan?”
“Probably. David and Dexter liked to cook.” And my bed is bigger.
“All right. I’ll risk it. Hang on—we need a bottle of wine.”
A half hour later Ari stood chopping tomatoes at his counter, singing along with Green Day. Patrick had changed into sweats and a T-shirt. His ass was parked against the refrigerator, a glass of wine in hand as he watched her cook. He’d never say it out loud, but he loved having her in his kitchen. Not because he was a sexist pig, but because nobody had ever cooked for him before. Fed him. Forget the seven-thousand dollar oven that was preheating for their dinner. Ari was the luxury here.
“Where did we put those olives?” she asked.
He set down his glass of wine and fetched them out of the refrigerator. When he brought them over to Ari’s workstation, he lingered behind her, pulling her hair out of the way and kissing her neck.
“Mmm,” she said with a sigh. “What’s that for?”
Cooking for me. Being with me. Trusting me. “Do I need a reason?”
“No.” Her voice was low.
“I just like you, that’s all.” He ran a hand down her elegant back, the lean yoga muscles resisting his touch. He cupped her bottom in one hand and kissed her hair.
Ari opened the tub of olives and began spooning them out onto the cutting board. “These get chopped a bit, and mixed with the tomatoes and garlic,” she explained. “Then I add the breadcrumbs and douse it all with olive oil.”
He lifted the column of her hair and leaned in again, kissing her neck. She smelled of lavender and fresh food, and he did not want to stop. Unbidden, his hands found her hips.
“That is . . .” She took a breath. “Really distracting.”
His fingertips lifted her top, skimming her tummy over the waistband of her jeans. “Should I stop?” he asked between kisses beneath her ear.
“Um . . .”
Before she could answer, he caressed her, one hand cupping her breasts while the other unzipped her jeans.
“Ungggh,” sh
e mumbled, relaxing back against him.
“Put the knife down, sweetheart.” He smiled into her hair.
“Good idea.”
He heard it come to rest on the cutting board as his fingertips dipped into her panties. He teased the top of her mound and sighed. “I’m in the mood to spoil you.”
“I’m in the mood to let you.”
Grasping her hips, he turned her around, then dropped to his knees. She looked down at him with wide eyes as he took one of her hands in his. One by one he put her fingers into his mouth, cleaning off tomato juice and olive oil with his tongue.
“Oh geez . . .”
He took her second hand and repeated the treatment, lingering on each finger, sucking gently, staring up into her lovely face. She’d become flushed, with a soft, unfocused gaze that was just for him. “Put your hands on the counter, Ariana.”
Immediately, she did as she was told.
He gave her jeans a tug, then pulled them all the way down and off. That left nothing but a tiny pair of panties. He leaned forward and began dropping kisses along their hemline, and down to the juncture of her legs. He paused, pressing his nose into her softness, breathing out a long, slow breath that was meant to feel warm right where it counted. He kissed the fabric once. Twice.
Above him, Ari whimpered.
With one finger, he tugged the fabric aside, exposing an inch of pretty heaven. He kissed that, too.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered.
He slid a finger between her legs, skimming her softness and enjoying the slickness that had begun to accumulate for him. “I’m too hungry to wait for dinner,” he said, grasping her panties and sliding them down all the way, so she could step out. “I want . . .” He nudged one knee until she stepped her legs a bit wider apart. “An appetizer.” Then he fitted his mouth against her body and began to kiss her in earnest. His erection strained against his sweats, and so he gave himself one slow stroke through the fabric. But that was all for now.
Two hands gripped his hair as he tongued her. “Patrick,” she gasped. Then, “Oohhhh.”
He buried his smile in her sweetness and kept up the torture until her knees began to shake. “You okay up there?” When he raised his chin, her eyes were closed.
“Take me to bed,” she said, looking down at him.
“What about dinner?” he teased.
“Later.” She reached down and tugged his chin until he stood up.
O’Doul picked her right up in his arms and carried her there, tossing her onto the big mattress. “Take off your shirt,” he ordered.
Hastily she complied.
“The bra, too. Then I want you on your knees. In Balasana pose.”
Ari’s hands faltered at her bra strap. “Wow. Look at you, speaking Sanskrit!”
“It’s the only pose I know.” He whipped his shirt off. “Whenever you demonstrate it, I want to climb on top of you.”
“I love hearing what’s in your head.” She reached behind herself, unhooking her bra. Then it fell away. She was sitting naked on his bed, dark eyes looking up at him. So trusting. “Right now?”
“God, yes.”
For one long moment more, she studied him. Then she tucked her knees into her body and rolled onto them, facing away from him. He saw her chest expand with a deep breath. Then, exhaling, she slid her arms forward on his bedspread, elongating her upper body, sinking onto her folded knees until her forehead came to rest on his mattress.
“Whew,” he breathed. At the beautiful sight of Ari stretched out and waiting for him, his dick hardening to the texture of an iron bar. He put a knee on the bed so he could press a palm to her lower back. “So beautiful. Even better than in my dreams.” He skimmed his palm up her smooth back until his fingers sifted through her silky hair.
Then he gave into the temptation to kneel at her ass. He ran both hands up and down her sleek body, rubbing her ass cheeks, warming her everywhere. He curled his body over hers, bending down to press a kiss to her back. “Just like this,” he whispered, bringing his eager dick against her ass. He pushed his hips forward to show her what he meant. “You’re open and ready for me.”
She made a happy noise. “I’m not sure I get it. Demonstrate again.”
He pressed his chuckle against her spine, kissing her smooth skin. “Stay there. I have to suit up.” As much as it pained him to leave her, he slid off the bed and dropped his sweats. Then he headed over to the nightstand for a condom. She turned her head to watch him, her eyes tracking his hand as he rolled it down over his rock-hard length. “You see anything you like?”
She smiled at him. “A yogi doesn’t fish for compliments.”
“Never said I was any good at yoga.” He climbed on the bed behind her again, nudging her feet apart with his knee. When he slipped a hand between her legs she gasped, and he groaned. “You missed me,” he rumbled, his fingers sliding everywhere.
“Enough with the talking.”
Well then. Grasping her hips, he pushed himself home.
They both let out noises of shocked pleasure. Watching himself, he slid in and out again slowly. The view was the stuff of porn films. But it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. So he lowered his elbows to the bed, one on either side of her body. Fitting every inch of his chest onto her waiting back, and kissing her neck again, he began to rock.
Ari made an incomprehensible sound that may or may not have been his name. Rolling his hips, he gathered her even closer. It was probably a good idea that she couldn’t see his face right now, because there was no way he could keep the look of devotion off of it. He had everything he wanted in this moment. He’d tell her straight up how he felt—he couldn’t wait to do it. But he’d only had her back for a couple of hours and didn’t want to freak her out. So he laved the sensitive skin under her ear with his tongue, and then sucked until she moaned.
“You . . . we . . . so good . . .” she said into the bedspread.
“I know,” he whispered.
“Love the way you feel.”
Love you. He slipped a hand beneath her arm and reached down until he could touch the place where they were joined. She gasped again, and pushed her hips back to meet him. He took a deep, steadying breath and bore down. This was everything. He moved inside her, listening to the rising sounds of her pleasure, knowing he’d never been so lucky a day in his life.
* * *
“Balasana is supposed to be a resting, restorative position,” Ari told him afterwards as they lay on the bed, breathing hard.
“Well. I feel completely restored.”
She laughed, and hugged him. They lay there a long time just holding each other. “Good thing I hadn’t put dinner in the oven yet,” she said eventually. “Shall we finish it now?”
They got up slowly, and Ari put the fish in the oven.
They tidied up the kitchen together, and he loved their companionable silence, and the way she touched a hand to his back when she moved around him.
“I still owe you an explanation,” he said when the prep area was clean again.
She put a hand to his bare chest. “What do you wish to explain?”
“I already told you that I only met Vince once before he threw a brick through your window. I didn’t know you two were connected. Didn’t care, either. I saw those texts, and I didn’t know who he was. When I ran over there and he was threatening you, I just wanted to shut him down, no matter who he was.”
“Okay.” She nodded slowly. “I understand.”
“I mean, when he sent that picture to the Bruisers’ office, he was telling me to back the fuck off. That he could damage me. But I wasn’t going to listen. And it didn’t have a thing to do with the . . .” He cleared his throat. “Junk I bought from him once.”
“Why’d you do it?” she asked.
That was the really hard conversation, wasn’t it? “
Another player—a competitor—told me they’d make me feel invincible. And he was right. But buying them made me feel like a lowlife. And I spent my whole adulthood trying not to be that lowlife kid from the group home, right? So after that one time I didn’t buy again.”
“You’re not taking anything now,” she clarified.
“No, baby. I’d tell you if I was. But that’s why I passed my drug test.”
“Those things are easy to pass.”
“If they are, I don’t want to know.”
A soft hand cradled his face. “Thank you for telling me. If we’re going to be together, you can’t take that stuff again.”
“Aw.” He gathered her up. “That’s a hell of an incentive.” He kissed her shoulder.
“Some people can’t stop, though,” she said softly. “Even if they mean to.”
“The team doctors told me I was lucky not to get sucked in right away. They said to stay away from that shit because I might not be lucky again.”
“And you’re going to listen?”
“Yeah. I am. I’m doing good, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
His heart squeezed. “What else do you need from me? I want to know.”
She rolled her head to face him, amusement in her eyes. “See, you’re not going to like my demands. There’s a reason I tried to stay away from you.”
“Tell me why that is.”
Ari put her cheek on his chest. “We need to be subtle at work. I don’t mean secretive. But the job really matters to me, and I have to act like a professional. So no touching.”
“Hmm.” He caressed her breast in his palm. “Okay. I might need to do some extra touching in private to tide me over.”
“That’s not a deal breaker.”
“What else, then?”
Ari opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“What is it?”
She just shook her head. “Nothing. I think I should get up and take our dinner out of the oven.”