Page 20 of An Undisputed Christmas
"Jax!" I protested, but I was already giggling.
"Keep talking, princess,” he said conversationally, as if carrying me around an ice rink was the most normal thing in the world.
"Tell me more about your 'advanced technique' while I demonstrate mine."
To my complete amazement and the obvious shock of everyone watching, he pushed off smoothly, skating with perfect balance and control despite having me draped over his shoulder.
The man was showing off, gliding across the ice like an Olympic athlete while casually carrying his girlfriend.
I waved at Sierra and Isla, who were watching with knowing grins, tucked against their guys’ sides. "See you later, ladies!" I called out, knowing full well what was about to happen and absolutely thrilled about it.
"Estelle's about to get her attitude adjusted," I heard Isla say to Sierra, followed by their conspiratorial giggles.
Jax skated us smoothly to one of the small warming huts scattered around the rink's perimeter, cozy little wooden structures meant for storing equipment and taking breaks from the cold.
He shouldered the door open, carried me inside, and kicked it shut behind us with a finality that made my heart race.
The interior was intimate and dimly lit, heated by a small electric fireplace that cast dancing shadows on the log walls.
Soft Christmas music drifted from hidden speakers, something slow and romantic that completely contrasted with the wicked intent in Jax's eyes.
He set me down carefully, but immediately crowded me against the wooden wall, his large frame shadowing me. His arms braced on either side of my head, caging me in.
"So," he started smoothly, his face inches from mine, "you had it under control, did you?"
"Completely," I replied breathlessly, though my defiance was wavering under his intense stare.
"Mmm." His lips quirked up. "And that spectacular crash was intentional?"
"Very intentional. I was... making a statement."
"What kind of statement?" His thumb traced along my jaw, making me shiver.
"That I'm... that I don't need..." I was losing track of my argument as his touch sent sparks down my spine.
"That you don't need me?" he supplied helpfully, though his tone suggested this was a very wrong answer.
"I..." My breath hitched as his lips brushed against my ear.
"Because from where I was standing," he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel, "it looked like my bratty little princess needed to be rescued. Again."
"I'm not bratty," I protested weakly. Even I knew it was a lie.
His low chuckle vibrated against my neck. "No? Then what do you call this attitude you've been giving me all day?”
"Confidence," I tried, but it came out as more of a gasp as his teeth grazed my earlobe.
"Confidence," he repeated, pulling back to look at me with those devastating blue eyes.
"Is that what you call talking back when I'm trying to take care of you?"
Each word was punctuated by a soft kiss along my throat, making me shiver.
"I like talking back," I whispered.
"I know you do," he replied, his hands moving to the zipper of my jacket. "And I love it. Do you know why?"
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
