Page 38 of Break the Ice

I’m turned on even though I shouldn’t be.

“I called in sick,” I answer, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to show tonight.”

His glare darkens, his jaw tense. “Why?”

“Because… I knew you’d be there…”

“And you wanted to show me you still wouldn’t listen,” he finishes in a growl. He squeezes at the sides of my throat when I nod my head. “You really think you get a choice whether you want to play along or not, Sugar Tits?”

He squeezes my throat tighter and another sense of thrill shocks through me. “I never agreed to anything.”

“You didn’t need to agree. You’ll show up to every fucking game I play in. And if you expect my silence, you’ll have to pay for it.”

“Depends on the cost.”

His signature dimpled grin cants his lips. He lets his amusement linger as he brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. The intensity rolling off him is no less affecting than the heavy kisses from seconds ago.

His thumb reaches my bottom lip and he traces the curve. He doesn’t shy away from the fact that he’s admiring every feature of mine. Every thought of his remains a mystery. His next move impossible to predict.

“Get down on your knees, Sugar.”

An eternity passes before I process what he’s said.

Rafe has already sat up and pulled me along with him. The hint of humor has grown insidious. Mocking.

“What… you can’t be… serious?”

“On your knees,” he repeats. His words simple, his tone commanding. He grips my shoulder and pushes me down ’til my knees touch the area rug next to my sofa. “You wanted to know my price, I’m telling you. You can start by sucking me off.”

I swallow down the shock and shake my head through the confusion. “Why do you enjoy making people suffer?”

“Because it’s fun. And entertaining. But, more importantly, are you really going to pretend you don’t want my dick in your mouth?”

“I don’t have sex with work associates?—”

“Then I guess that whole scandal with Coach Abernathy was just tabloid gossip.”

My eyes round with surprise and he laughs.

Stroking my cheek as if he adores me, he says, “That’s right, Sugar. I know all about what happened. Shame you let it derail your career.”

“My injury ended my career.”

“Maybe. But having an affair with your married coach probably didn’t help, did it?”

My insides flutter at his question. It’s an accusation I’ve dealt with for years. I was forced to endure the judgment and dirty looks. I lived through life as if I had a scarlet letter painted on my chest when David was able to escape largely unscathed… or so I thought at first.

Until one night his bad deeds caught up with him.

“You don’t know the real story.”

“I know enough,” he says, tracing the curve of my cheek with the pad of his thumb. It’s a slow, gentle touch that feels better than it should. “And I have to say, I hope he rots in hell.”

“You… what?”

“He’d deserve it for what he did to you. It doesn’t matter if everybody took his side. He was your coach. He had all the power and he used it to end your career.”

“My injury?—”