Page 99 of Heated Rivalry 1
“Why don’t you get on the bed?” he suggested.
“So much for small talk, I guess.”
“And take your shirt off.”
“Bossy.”
Ilya waited as Shane put his tablet or whatever down, causing the screen to go black. He heard rustling noises, and then Ilya was looking at the end of Shane’s bed.
“Better?” Shane asked.
“No. Turn the camera around.”
“Oh, shit. Here.” And now a shirtless Shane Hollander’s face and shoulders (and glasses) filled the screen.
“Better.”
“How are you? I’ve been...thinking about you.”
Ilya’s heart flipped. He hoped it didn’t show on his face. “I am okay. I might not come back here, after today.”
“Is that scary?”
Ilya shrugged. “Right now it feels...good. Like, um...”
“A weight has been lifted?”
“Yes. Maybe like that. Is there a way I can see more of you?”
“Oh. Yeah...maybe I can...just a sec.”
Ilya propped his own iPad up on his nightstand and stretched out with his hands behind his head. When Shane reappeared on the screen, it seemed he had done something similar because now Ilya could see from the top of his head to the waistband of his sweatpants.
Ilya wanted, more than anything, to be able to cover Shane’s body with his own. To kiss his way down his chest and stomach.
Shane smiled. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I’d like to see you wearing nothing but those glasses,” Ilya said.
“I don’t think my camera can show that much at once.”
“Next time we are together, then.”
“Yeah. Next time.”
Ilya let his head sink into the pillows. He kept it turned, facing the camera. “Do you remember, after the NHL Awards in...what year was it?”
“Two thousand fourteen,” Shane said quickly. “Yeah. I do. I... I think about that night a lot.”
“Do you?”
“It was memorable.”
“It was,” Ilya agreed. “You put on a show for me.”
“I can’t believe you talked me into that.”
“I think you like to be told what to do, Hollander.”
