Page 25 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

“Yes,” she hisses. “Aside from that. That doesn’t count. I was already . . . you know . . . in the middle of it.” It’s even cuter when she tries to deny it. She turns her body to skate away, but it only affords me the view of her ass, reddened from the time spent pressed against the ice.

“I can show you better than I can tell you,” I muse.

“Oh yeah?” She whips back around. “And what if I don’t want to play with you?”

I know she does, but insane or not, I’m a pretty nice guy. I don’t mind giving her an out if she needs one.

I walk over to her.

“Tell me you don’t, and I’ll stop. But I find it kind of hard to believe that you’d spend months stalking me to watch me skate, learn more about me, let me rub your pussy until you come and then turn me down the second I want to sit you on my cock and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.

Just seems like a wasted opportunity if you ask me.

” I grin, quickly becoming a fan of how her body reacts to my dirty talk.

Her mouth falls open and I withhold the desire to fill it. She tracks my eyes on her mouth and clamps it shut. I still ache to fill her mouth and give her something she can swallow. I can practically feel the roll of her throat around me.

“It’s not that, it’s just . . .” Her eyes turn away from me and it’s the first time since we’ve met that she’s looked apprehensive, not scared per se, but worried.

“How about this? I’ll make you a deal,” I offer, folding my arms and widening my stance.

“A deal?” She perks at the option.

“It’s more of a bet,” I clarify.

Her eyes light up and I know I’ve got her in my clutches. My Little Stalker Princess loves a challenge.

“Okay, what’s the bet?” she asks, a giddiness to her voice.

“Pick any game, right now, to compete against me. If you win, I’ll leave you alone. But if I win, you come out to play. The real you. @BladeSpinner.” Her face turns ashen at the mention of her EZgram username, but she schools her features.

“Any game?” she questions.

I nod.

“Of my choosing?” she presses.

“Yep,” I say.

“My rules?”

I thrust my hands in my pockets to keep them from reaching for her.

“As long as they’re fair, yes.”

She beams, appearing happy with the conditions we’ve set.

“Fine. I challenge you to a race,” she says.

I cock a brow at her. “You sure you wanna do that?”

I’m all for winning, but I always play fair. There’s no way she’s beating me in a race, on skates or otherwise.

She holds up a manicured finger. “I’m not done. I challenge you to a race backward. Three laps around the rink. I win, you let me go home and we never speak of this night again.”

Her eyes gleam with pride, confident her victory will be easily obtained.

And that right there is exactly why she won’t win. She’s made the stakes too high—now I can’t lose.

I walk back to the rink’s edge, grabbing my skates out of my gear bag, and put them on only to return and see her face set into one of extreme determination. Her corded braid spills down her back as she rights herself, leaning into a stretch and rolling her ankles.

Is she really that set on beating me? Even if she does manage to win this race, she’s still not getting away from me.

Her ice blue eyes are focused as she lines up at the starting line.

She shakes her arms out and rolls her neck as she gets into position.

That competitive look in her eyes both turns me on and pisses me off.

She wants to win. She wants to pretend we never met and what?

Go back to being anonymous? That’s not happening, Princess.

“Remember, three laps. First person to cross this line wins,” she points at the ice where she’s created a makeshift line between the debris of the boombox she destroyed earlier and her bag.

Ugh so fucking cute.

“Hey, no hard feelings, okay?” I goad.

I line up beside her and grin, my mind already made up—I’m going to crush her.

She rolls her eyes and sets the timer on her phone. In five seconds, our fate will be determined.

Ding!

And then we’re off.

Eat my dust, Little Stalker Princess.

“I want a rematch!” Sydney yells at my back as I retreat.

“Nope, all’s fair in love and war, baby.”

I smirk. There was no way I was going to lose. I needed to win this. She’s not just going to walk away from me.

“How the hell are you so fast?” she pants, her chest bulging as she strains to catch her breath.

“Practice. Years and years of practice,” I answer.

My time on the ice predates my hockey career, back when life wasn’t so dark and brilliant color still existed. When there was laughter and warmth present on cold nights and frozen lakes.

“Best two out of three,” she huffs.

“No.” I plop against the bench seat and casually lean back, my arm propped against the benches behind me.

Truth is, she almost had me at the end. The only reason she lost is because she’s easily rattled, and I wasn’t above using that to my advantage. If I give her another chance now, she might beat me.

“A deal’s a deal.” I remind her, settling further in my seat.

She sighs, a bit peeved, but not wholly disappointed when her arms fold in on themselves again. It eases my own frustrations.

“Fine. How do you want to do this?” she asks.

“Well, for starters, I want to take you to a party,” I say.

Her brow arches.

“A party?” Her arms unfold as she stands on the edge of the rink.

“Yes. A party,” I confirm.

I start removing my skates and toss them back in my bag, officially solidifying my win.

“That was not what I was expecting you to say.” Her shoulders slump. She grabs her skate guards off the ledge and makes her way over to me, though she keeps a strange amount of distance between us as she unlaces her own skates and takes a seat beside me.

I’m glad I decided to attend the party first. This girl has got to learn to relax.

Did she really think I would go in straight for the kill?

I suppose I did come off kind of strong, but I want to savor every second I spend with her by my side.

I’ll be taking my sweet, sweet time with my stalker princess.

“What’d you expect me to say? ‘On your knees, let me fuck your throat until you can’t breathe?’” I taunt.

She sets her skates to the side.

“I mean, yeah.”

Jesus fucking Christ, this girl.

I quirk an amused brow while I adjust my cock in my pants and she quickly backtracks her statement, realizing what she’s said.

“I meant, yeah, that’s what I expected your lewd response to be,” she corrects. “But, um, okay, yeah, I’d like to go to a party with you. What time should I meet you?”

Scooting in closer, I lean over, eradicating that space she’s trying to keep between us.

“Look, I’m not always a demon, but if I’m being completely honest, meeting you couldn’t have come at a better time.

Today didn’t exactly go as planned for me, but if you’re my consolation prize then I’ll happily play this game with you.

So, let’s go, before I change my mind and we go with the throat fucking instead. ”