Page 68 of Hearts on Ice
“Good,” he said.
That answer was simple. Quiet. Dangerous in the best way.
I reached for him, sliding my fingers through his hair, but he caught my wrist, kissed the inside of it, then the hollow of my palm, working his way down like he was learning me by touch. Every move was tentative at first, testing, then sure.
Heat unfurled slow and steady, twining with something gentler that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with trust. The way he looked at me, the way he listened with his hands, made my breath come rough. I couldn’t stop saying his name. Couldn’t stop telling him—half in English, half in Spanish—how good it felt, how goodhewas.
“Así, mi vida… just like that.”
“Yeah, right there, that’s it.”
Drew’s answering laugh was low, breathless, beautiful.
I wasn’t sure how I ended up with my back flat on the bed and my sweats and boxer briefs off of me and on the floor.
Drew’s mouth hovered, breath hot against the inside of my thigh. My whole body was strung tight, nerves thrumming—part anticipation, part disbelief that this was happening, that he wanted to do this for me.
He looked up, checking me, and that flash of nervousness in his eyes nearly undid me. “Tell me if I do something wrong,” he whispered, voice raspy.
“You’re perfect.” My voice was wrecked, barely there. “You—God, Drew, just touch me.”
His hand curled around me, awkward at first, learning the weight and shape of me, and then his lips followed—a soft brush, then a firmer press. The first time his tongue flicked over me, I choked on a moan. My hands found his hair, not to guide him, just needing to anchor myself to something real.
He worked slow, careful, tracing the veins with his tongue, taking me in increments. Each inch felt like a mile. There was nothing practiced about it, and maybe that’s what made it so intense—he was discovering, learning the map of my body, and every noise I made seemed to fuel his confidence.
“Así, así…” I murmured, breathless, the words slipping out before I could think. My hips jerked when he tried sucking, and he made a startled noise, then laughed, mouth still on me. The sound vibrated through me, wild and electric.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, just holding on. He looked up, eyes dark and shining, and the sight of him—on his knees for me, wanting this, wanting me—was almost too much.
“Drew,” I gasped, warning or plea, I didn’t even know.
He hummed, mouth never leaving me, and I felt him smile, felt him grow bolder. When I finally came undone, it was with his name on my lips, Spanish and English tumbling out tangled, the world narrowing down to the heat of his mouth and the safety of his hands holding me together.
Chapter 27
Drew
The studio still smelled like coffee and old foam padding, the same round table and black mics in their usual places. Only one thing had changed—the air. It buzzed now, alive with something neither of us had named yet.
Miguel sat across from me, headphones around his neck, fingertips tapping a muted rhythm against the tabletop. His grin was easy, but when our eyes met, there was something new there—heat, memory, the echo of skin against skin.
Jester was supposed to join him today, but a last-minute family emergency had taken him out of town. So once again it was just me and Miguel filling the slot. The last time that happened, I’d been all nerves and rough edges. This time, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Miguel’d whisperedte deseoin my ear.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s make it a good one.”
The red light glowed to life. Showtime.
“Welcome back toRoaring Success—your behind-the-scenes look at the L.A. Grizzlies,” Miguel began, smooth and professional. “I’m Miguel ‘Maestro’ Rodriguez, and today I’m joined by our head coach, Drew Mackenzie.”
I leaned toward the mic. “Appreciate the invite, Maestro. Guess it’s your turn behind the mic this week.”
He laughed under his breath, soft enough the mic barely caught it. “You know I need backup, Coach.”
The way he saidCoachhit different now—soft, like it meant more than it used to. My pulse ticked faster.
We started with the obvious.
