Page 23 of Break the Ice

I sit up, still grinning at her. Dimples on full display. My gaze lit up with humor. “What if I told you somebody else is about to fuck around and find out?”

“I don’t even understand what the hell you’re trying to?—”

“My silence isn’t free, Sugar,” I say between more laughter. Then my laugh drops off and I let my seriousness bleed into the once-playful expression on my face. My dimples disappear and my eyes harden. It’s like a mask slipping away to reveal a predator beneath. In a roundabout way, that’s exactly what’s about to happen.

Marisse owes me for my silence—and I’ve come to collect.

For the first time since I’ve arrived, a flicker of doubt passes over that gorgeous face of hers. She waffles between keeping up her boss chick charade and letting the horror from the other night creep in. I help nudge her along.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Golding… Rafe…”

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” I say in an icy-smooth tone, “but I really helped you out the other night. You didn’t even thank me.”

“That’s not what… I didn’t ask… you came in?—”

“You didn’t stop me. You went right along with everything.”

She double blinks, her full lips parting. “But… but?—”

“But, what, Sugar? You know as well as I do what happened that night. I and I alone know what you did.”

“No!” she chokes out. “He must’ve attacked me! I didn’t do anything wrong. If… if I did hurt him, it would’ve been self-defense.”

“I believe you.” My head tilts to the side, my mouth just as slanted in a grin. “But will everyone else?”

She sputters out a bunch of nonsense—ums, uhhs, errs, erms, and every other possible stammered word you can think of.

The end result is gradual silence. She trails off, so shocked and horrified she can’t think of what to say.

Being the cold, brutal asshole I am, I recognize the moment for what it is. I know when my prey’s done for and it’s time for me to swoop in for the kill.

Marisse March, with her gorgeous face and tight little curvy body, with her condescending attitude and confident strut, is about to be my new favorite toy.

I rise up from her sofa, peering down at her, dragging out the heavy silence until it’s unbearable. She’s taking on a flustered look like she’s hot and lightheaded—and fuck does it look so sexy on her, her burnt-red curls everywhere.

Matching the heat between us. Symbolizing the ice I’ve just melted away from her frosty exterior.

“I’m a fair man, and you’re a very attractive woman,” I say. “I’m willing to offer you a deal. If you’re smart enough to take it.”

“What… do you mean?”

She really does look like she’s about to pass out. Her breathing’s audible, stiff and short gasps for air, and her face has glazed over in permanent shock. I can hardly resist reaching out to thumb her cheek and brush some of her wild mane behind her ear.

I’m really, really going to enjoy playing this game.

“One night, Sugar,” I say. “You and me. Then… I’ll keep silent forever.”

“Me and you… as in…?”

I grin, feeling my dimples pop on. “One night. Me and you. You’re all mine. Sunset to sunrise. Deal?”

She begins shaking her head over and over again. She moves to take a step back. My reflexes are too quick for her—my hands snap shut around both her wrists and hold her in place. I drag her closer to me, ’til she’s pressed against my chest, forced to look up at me as I peer down at her.

Bending my head to hers, my lips grazing her ear, I whisper, “I know you were turned on the other night when you caught me with Morasca’s wife. You wanted to find out what it was like to fuck the league’s notorious bad boy. Don’t deny it, Sugar Tits, I practically saw you creaming yourself. I bet that pussy was nice and wet. Those panties fucking soaked.”

She gasps, then tries again to separate us by pulling away. My grip’s too ironclad. I squeeze her wrists and grin broadly in her face, daring her to rebuff me. For her to claim a word of what I’ve said isn’t true.