Page 69 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

He leaned back, looking at me with the hint of a smile. “You have a problem with that?”

“Yes.”

“I know you better now,” Jesse said. “And I know you deserve better than just any guy at the Hard Spot. Like I told you before—you’ll enjoy breaking your streak more if you really make yourself want it.”

“Trust me,” I said, “I want it.”

He leaned in and took my lower lip between his teeth. I felt his hand come up and land around my neck, and he didn’t put any pressure on it, instead just cradling my throat in the warmth of his palm.

I was harder than a diamond now and I bucked my hips forward, rutting up against his leg.

“You sureyouwon’t regret it?”

His lips were close to my ear, and his voice had dipped into that commanding growl again.

“You know the reasons why we shouldn’t,” I said. “I think you’ve just forgotten that you could haveanyoneyou wanted.”

His expression went serious for a moment. The green of his eyes seemed to darken, and he held my gaze.

“If I can have anyone, then I want you, naked, under me in my bed with my cock deep inside you as you beg me to let you come.”

He pulled off of me in an instant. He let his words hang there like a challenge, and he walked away, leaving me in the hallway, hard and desperate and waiting. He disappeared through a doorway and I stayed there with my back against the wall, breathing deep.

I told myself how easy it would be to just walk down the stairs and leave, to resist thetug, to ignore all the stupid things my heart wanted me to do.

But I knew I wasn’t going to.

12

JESSE

Mason gave me a molten glare the moment he entered my room. I was kicking off my shoes in the corner, and he gently shut the door behind him.

“Left me out there to run after you?” he asked.

“You made your way in here just fine.”

“I don’t understand you. You tell me you don’t want to fuck anyone, but you bring me back here like I’m some prize you found while out on a hunt?”

The whiskey was still making my whole world fuzzy, but in a deep, warm way that was causing me to feel way too fucking good. I didn’t exactly know what my plan was anymore, but I’d enjoyed walking into this house proudly holding hands with Mason. That was a feeling I could get used to.

The light was low in my bedroom, lit only by the small glowing lamp on my desk and the ambient light coming in from the second-floor windows. Mason looked obscenely good. He always did, but tonight, he’d come right from that fancy party and he cleaned up so well, even if I also liked him in his usual flannel, too. His button-up shirt hugged his body in all the right places—the sides of his abs and his biceps, especially.

He had a slightly ticked off look on his face that only made me want to push his buttons more, too.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” I said. When I saw the brief flare of disappointment in his eyes, I decided to relent. “Yet.”

His cheeks went pink at my compliment, even though he was still trying to give me a hard stare.

“Where did you even come from?” Mason asked softly, shaking his head.

“Don’t know. Maybe aliens dropped me onto a hockey rink when I was a baby, or something.”

“Are you calling yourself some kind of hockey Superman?”

I sat down on the edge of my bed. “More like a hockey Batman. Dark, lone wolf, and I like the nighttime.”

Mason puffed out a laugh. He took off his shoes, coming over to stand over me, looking down. I reached a hand out to his waist, untucking a little portion of his shirt and gently stroking my thumb across his smooth skin there.

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