Page 77 of Hot Ice, Tennessee

It hit me like a crashing wave, a slow build that formed into a pure rush of sensation. The world was nothing other than this—the feeling of his body on mine andinmine, as he gave me something I’d needed in my bones.

I came all over his hand, my knees going weak on the mattress. My skin was burning hot. I gasped for air, turning my head back to look him in the eyes.

“Oh,God,” I whispered, saying his name.

He looked so fucking good. Flushed and ready to come,hungryfor it, eyeing me with a half-lidded gaze.

“You,” he said, pausing for a broken breath as he thrust into me once more, “are my favorite.”

He said the last word like he was relishing it. My cheeks heated at his praise, even after he’d just reduced me to nothing but a desperate animal.

Oh, dear God, I liked that.

I kept my eyes locked on his as best as I could, turning to look up at him as his eyelids fluttered and I knew he was going to come.

Even in my foggy haze I knew this was one of the hottest nights I’d ever had. I tightened my ass around him and watched as Jesse’s arms and abdominal muscles tensed as he pushed deep in me.

He let out something between a deep moan and a growl, finally letting go as he came, a low string of curses spilling out of his mouth. His breathing was heavy, and his palm landed on my back again a moment later, gentle as a feather. He blinked heavily as he made slow circles on my back with his hand, almost like he was massaging me to let me know how good I’d been for him.

He relaxed afterward like he’d just run a marathon. He looked sweaty and spent, his dark hair a wild halo around his head.

He bit down on his lower lip as he slid out of me and tossed the condom into the bin.

As I stood up, our eyes met for a moment and something electric flashed between us.

I was always curious to see how a guy acted after he came—was he going to go quiet? Bolt? Go seek out a pack of Oreos like a ravenous animal?

With Jesse it was a little different.

I… usually didn’t act like an obedient little puppy for guys, and I had no idea what the norm was for him.

He’d definitely let a few things slip while he was inside me, too.

Was I really hisfavorite?

Or was that just the heat of the moment talking?

He reached up to shove back his hair with his fingers, stretching his arms and his neck. For the first time, I was hyper aware that I was in a college student’s room. It was nicer than a dorm, to be sure, and the frat house had plenty of space, tall ceilings, and charm. But Jesse also had various photos tacked onthe wall, most of them taken after hockey games, apparently. He was wearing his gear in a lot of them. In some, he was smiling next to his teammates, and in others, he posed next to fans from the crowd. Textbooks were stacked on his desk beside his laptop, and a couple of hockey jerseys were hung on the wall.

I didn’t feel out of place, exactly, but standing naked in here suddenly felt a whole lot different than just being railed on his bed.

“How do you feel?” he asked after a moment, his voice rich and low still.

“Like I’m ass naked in a frat house.”

A slight smile spread across his lips. “I feel like I want to go rinse off.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

Okay. So, not bolting, but not exactly touchy-feely-cuddly, either.

“And feeling like I want you to come with me,” he added, reaching out to slowly move his warm, open palm down the center of my spine all over again.

…Maybe a little touchy feely.

“This frat house doesn't have an open shower stall type situation, does it?”

He puffed out a laugh. “Just come with me.”

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