Page 58 of Ice Princess

I’m kissing Rebel Hart.

Have mercy.

The temperature in the car spikes.

My skin feels hot enough to burn clear off my bones.

I push further across the console, hovering over her until her head tilts back from the force of my unrelenting kisses. Myfingers grip the back of her head to keep her steady and I stay right there, savoring and suckling her mouth as if I’m drawing every breath from her body, as if I’m desperate for her oxygen.

Rebel moans again. Her hand comes up to my chest.

Is it to push me away? To slow me down?

Somewhere in the back of my head, I hear a warning to ease up on her. I’m being too aggressive.

Rebel hates me. She didn’t ask for a kiss, especially not one this intense. She may be uncomfortable.

The thought is a cold bucket of water over my head. I wrench back, breathing hard. It took me a lifetime to be close to Rebel and yet, here I am, trying to force an eternity of waiting into one kiss.

Rebel’s chest heaves up and down. She inches back until her shoulder hits the door. I notice the fog clouding the window and wince.

“Y-you made your point,” she says quietly, a hand to her mouth and a blush spreading across her cheeks.

My point?

Suddenly, two sweeping headlights pierce my back windshield. A car speeds up and then screeches to a stop beside us. The passenger window lowers and I see mom and Victoria in the dark cabin of the car.

“Why’d you park on the side of the road? Did your car break down?” mom hollers.

I start the car and it rumbles to life, purring like a well-oiled machine.

“If nothing’s wrong, why’d you pull over?” Mom insists.

Rebel blinks rapidly. “We… I mean, I…”

“We were kissing,” I say bluntly.

Victoria’s face tightens.

Mom rears back in horror. “Gunner Kinsey?—”

“We were lost,” Rebel pipes up. Her laughter sounds as high pitched and screechy as a bird at dawn. “That’s why we stopped. Can we follow you to the restaurant instead, Carol?”

Mom’s shrewd eyes take in Rebel’s face, narrowing on her mouth. Then her eyes lock in on me.

I don’t move an inch, but I hear Rebel squirming around in her seat. There’s no need to turn my neck for confirmation. It’s clear what she’s feeling right now. Waves and waves of embarrassment are wafting from her skin.

I shift forward to shield Rebel from mom’s razor-sharp inspection. “Didn’t you say we’d be late?”

“Stay close behind me.” Mom frowns.

I dip my chin down.

“I’m assuming there will be no more…” Her nostrils flare, “unexpected stops?”

No promises.

But I know better than to say that.

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