Page 36 of Hearts on Ice
He lifted his head. “What?”
“Not here. Smells like a gym.”
He looked back over his shoulder at the equipment. “No it doesn’t. I clean it regularly.”
“Still smells like a gym.” And what did he have in mind? Her up against the wall? One of the weight benches? No. She didn’t want him to fuck her and walk away. She wanted…something more, some kind of aftermath.
He stepped back, hands on his hips, and her whole body cried out at the loss. Was he changing his mind? Okay, part of her thought that was a good thing. That this was a mistake. But the rest of her wanted to cry.
“Where should we go then?”
If they went all the way back to her place, to Archie’s place, that would give Declan a chance to change his mind. “How far is your place?”
His eyes shuttered. He didn’t want to take her there. Of course he didn’t. He wanted to make love to her, but not let her into his life. Not let her see who he was now.
“Not far,” he said, and scowled. “You won’t change your mind?”
Clearly he did not hear her libido screaming, because whatever else they’d gotten wrong in their marriage, sex had never been the culprit. She shook her head.
He reached over and unlocked the door to the gym, motioned for her to precede him out of the room. “Sandra, I’ll be back,” he called to the woman in the snack bar.
“She can manage things?” Colby asked, following him to his truck at almost a trot.
“There won’t be many people around during the day.”
She was hoping he didn’t plan to be gone only a short time, because that would be just as bad as having sex in the gym. But she didn’t say anything as she hopped into the passenger side of the truck.
The parking lot was mostly empty. The reporters must have found something better to write about, or the security guard had chased them off. Anyway, one less worry to have as they ran off to their rendezvous.
Honestly, she was shocked when they pulled in front of an older apartment complex less than ten minutes later.
“You live this close, and you drive all the way across town to pick me up?”
He shrugged as he put the truck in park. “You need a ride.”
He was such a good man. The tabloids had been right to be pissed at her for leaving him. He had been right to be pissed, too, so why wasn’t he? Okay, he had been, but he’d softened toward her since she’d been back.
Okay, soft wasn’t the word she wanted to use to describe him right now. Not at all.
She popped out of the truck and hurried around to him. She was surprised when he caught her hand and pulled her toward the staircase leading up to the second floor.
She didn’t have much of a chance to look around, only got the impression it was dark before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Yeah, then she didn’t care if it was dark, light, transparent. She wanted his hands on her body, wanted to touch him. He peeled her top off to bare her breasts—no point wearing a bra when her top was as restrictive as this one. She’d never gotten big breasts, had considered a boob job when she’d been in Hollywood, but she’d touched some of her friends’ fake boobs and didn’t really like the feeling, so she’d kept her small breasts.
Declan didn’t seem to mind, wrapping his arm around her back and arching her toward him, bending his mouth to nuzzle, then suckle her sensitive nipple, his hand going to her other breast, his fingers pulling lightly on the tip. She made a sound in her throat as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt, slid her hands up over his warm skin to grip his hard shoulders, holding him to her.
He released her and tucked his fingers into the waistband at the back of her leggings and started walking backwards, drawing her with him. His bedroom, she thought, and followed, moving with him like they had on the ice.
His bed was unmade, and smelled of him as she dropped back onto the mattress. She took in a deep breath, realizing how much that heightened her desire, to fill her senses with him. After he peeled off his shirt, he knelt on the bed and dragged down her leggings and panties together, and she was naked and vulnerable in front of him.
And then he was naked and over her, his hands everywhere, touching her hair, sliding down her side to her hip, between her legs. He kissed his way down between her breasts, over her stomach, stopping just above her mound. Her sex throbbed with longing for his mouth, his tongue. He looked up the length of her body, his eyebrows rising briefly. Did he want her to beg? Because she would. She parted her thighs wider in invitation, and still he didn’t advance.
“Deck, please.” She almost didn’t recognize her own voice, the need was so strong.
He shifted his touch so both his hands were on her thighs, his thumbs parting her, his tongue touching just below her clit, and just that small caress shattered her, making her pulse against the lips he touched to her, drawing out her pleasure, waves and waves of sensation washing over her, bowing her body, making everything in her tight before she melted again, spent.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, rising over her, teasing her back to arousal with the rub of his cock against her entrance, rubbing his thumb, wet with her arousal, across her mouth.
