Page 88 of Ice Wolf
So I reacted.
Or maybe later I’d say I overreacted, but I just couldn’t help myself around the man.
He brought out the beast in me. A laugh curled on my lip as I turned around suddenly, slamming both palms against his chest.
Maybe I’d forgotten the only thing keeping us closed off from the cooler air outside the tub was a flimsy shower curtain. Oops. Too late now.
As if created from a movie set, the shower rings popped one by one from his body being pitched backward. Maybe I should be grateful the curtain wrapped itself around his body like a cocoon, the metal rings keeping him from slamming into the hard tile floor.
Or maybe I was pissed he’d had a soft landing. While he was still tumbling in the festive fabric of the outer curtain and the stiff clear plastic, I snatched the towel off the ring, wrapping it around my boobs before stepping over him.
“What the…” he snarked from under the material.
“That’s for you being an inconsiderate, rude, off the charts jerk. You can sleep on the floor.” For dramatic effect, I snapped off the light, grabbed the shirt, and stormed into the bedroom. For a bazillion reasons, my heart was doing gymnastics in my chest.
Partly because I was furious that he was such an ass and always would be.
Partly because I’d enjoyed myself with a man. Really enjoyed myself as in being swept off my feet by a huge he-man with a face of the angels and the body of a Greek god.
And also, partly because I was furious with myself for falling under his twisted spell. I didn’t care how gorgeous he was. He was still a jerk and would always be a jerk.
So much for the promise I’d made about trying to be nicer to him. Living with him? Not a snowball’s chance in hell. He was best served marrying a blowup doll.
I quickly got ready for bed. As I yanked down the covers, the stark images of him caught with his dick in a puffy pink fake hole brought a smile to my face.
Did that make me an evil woman?
So be it. I crawled under the covers, immediately turning off the light.
Then I threw the sheet and comforter over my head.
Maybe I could wake up after a decade had passed and Saint ‘The Savage’ Masters was no longer the hottest man on the planet.
CHAPTER 22
Saint
I’d always believed hockey was better than sex.
Then I’d had the best shower of my life with a woman who could light a man’s fuse from a hundred miles away.
Right before she either tossed kerosine onto the fire, or ice water. That’s how quickly Lily’s mood could change.
Touching her had been incredible.
Tasting her even better.
Fucking her? Sublime.
Then she’d knocked me on my ass and had forced me to sleep on the floor, even checking more than once to ensure I hadn’t crawled into bed with her.
She wasn’t any less cold when we’d gotten up and my mom had made breakfast. Lily had all but tossed ice cubes in my face.
Maybe I couldn’t blame her.
The truth was I was kicking myself for being such an ass.
“What exactly did you do to that girl?” Eric asked as I skated around him, moving the puck from side to side.
