Page 84 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

thirty-eight

Present

I reach the arena a few minutes later to find Sydney exactly where she said she’d be: in the shower.

A part of me wants to take a moment to stare at her from afar, to linger and watch as she’s done to me countless times.

But before I know it, I’m removing my clothes and joining her, not settling for watching. I want to take . Need it.

She doesn’t flinch at my presence as I slide in behind her, my bloody clothes discarded at the bench. My naked body wraps around hers. She leans into me, letting her head fall back and rest against my chest. I love that she’s more comfortable than she was when we showered together earlier.

Eyes closed, lashes clumped, the water softly pelts her face. She’s gorgeous. Unlike earlier tonight, she’s unbothered and relaxed even as I graze my bloodied fingers across her wet skin, stroking up and down her arms.

“Did you knock that idiot out?” she asks, straightening up to push the water through her hair.

I do the same and the water runs red against the light blue penny tiles as if washing away my transgressions.

“Yeah, sure did,” I say.

She laughs. “What’s that make? Six guys tonight?”

“Somewhere around there,” I mutter.

Not sure if death counts as a knockout, but I chuckle all the same that she’s been keeping count.

She spins away from the spray, facing me with a smile so bright I’d swear the sun was jealous. Then she catches sight of me, and her smile turns upside down.

“Is that blood ?” she screeches, eyes blinking rapidly and brows smushed together in concern.

“Well . . .” I don’t want to lie to her.

“And why is there so much of it?” she questions. “Are you okay ? Are you hurt ?”

She’s swiping her hands all over my body, trying to find the source, but it’s all washing away. My abs clench as I try to keep from laughing. Her hands are so tiny. And I’m ticklish.

“It’s not mine,” I admit.

Her mouth opens to respond, but then she closes it, deciding against whatever it was she was about to say.

She stares at me for a long moment while questions tumble through my mind.

She breaks eye contact first. Pulling my hand closer to her face, she inspects the damage, much like she did when we were in her kitchen.

She tuts. “You’ve gotta be more careful, Lucien.”

The way she pins me with those fucking cracked eyes, stuns me. There’s so much feeling and I don’t know what to do with it all. “I obviously didn’t bother stopping you this time, but you can’t fight every person you have a problem with, okay?”

I pull my hand back and rake it through my hair, rinsing out more blood.

“Why not?” I ask, the question genuine because I don’t understand why she’s been so adamant about this.

She searches my eyes with a sigh.

“Who would fight my demons if I lost you?” she asks.

I grip her chin and tilt her head back.

“You could never lose me.”

She clears her throat, her gaze ping-ponging between my eyes as we stare at one another.

“I . . .”—she shakes her head—“I will if you get in more trouble. I want you to promise me you’ll be more careful and think about the people who care about you before you do anything crazy.”

I cock a grin.

“When it comes to you, I’m always crazy.”

“Nice try.” She smirks up at me, pointing at me with her chipped blue nail. She swirls her finger in a circle around me. “You were crazy way before me.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, “but I’m crazy about you now, remember?”

“Smooth. Real smooth.” She looks away, nibbling on her decimated thumb. “But yeah, I’m pretty crazy about you too.”

Something like a shiver causes her to flinch and she drops her thumb, but she turns her face back toward the spray, holding it there as if she’s trying to waterboard herself.

“Everything alright?” I try to bring her face back to mine, but she pulls away. I don’t like it. I want her undivided attention.

“Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

I turn her by her shoulders, but she resists.

“It’s . . . nothing.” Her smile is small and gentile but unconvincing.

“C’mon, Princess,” I say. “Let me in. Talk to me. That’s all I actually wanted from you tonight. So please, don’t chicken out on me now. Not when I know how brave you really are.”

She scoffs a derisive laugh, turning to face me, but her head is down, looking at my chest.

“I’m not brave,” she says.

“Really? Because I’ve seen lesser men cry after everything I’ve put you through tonight.” I grimace a little at the realization I pushed her really hard for her first time. I should have tried holding back more.

“It’s not that,” she says. “I just . . . I didn’t expect to feel this way. I didn’t expect this night to be so . . .”

“Crazy?” I offer.

“Perfect,” she finishes instead. “ Too fucking perfect.” Her forehead rests against my chest, hiding what sounds like embarrassment, but I already knew her feelings were strong. As strong as my own. It’s why it’ll last with her.

“I’m not hearing the problem.” She draws back and her eyes flick from my lips to my eyes—the connection I’ve been seeking, solidified—when she lets me see that yearnful look on her face.

She arches to her toes and kisses me, her hands pressing against my chest. It’s soft at first, a tickle on my lips before it deepens, turning ravenous, like she can’t get enough, like she’ll never have enough.

She pushes me until my back hits the wall, the thud echoes, and the steam grows thicker as the temperature rises.

I’m about to hoist her up to straddle me so I can fuck her against this shower wall when she drops to her knees, fisting my cock that’s been at half-mast since I walked in.

Her warm mouth wraps around me, and I nearly go blind.

How is it already so much better than the first time?

She sucks and teases, swirling her tongue over my crown and using it to flick the jewelry.

I look down at her wide-eyed, somewhat surprised by her skill.

“What?” She grins. “Practice makes perfect, and I don’t half-ass my training. Plus . . .” She licks the underside of my balls, the perfect picture of sin if ever I saw one. “I’m a fast learner,” she mentions before sucking me down her throat again.

Fuck, she feels amazing, the way she pulls and sucks, keeping her thrusts shallow and focusing on the tip. She’s playing with me. I can tell she’s not sucking in earnest, not yet.

I grab her head, roaming my fingers over the scar hidden beneath. She lets me. The soft strands of her wet hair weave around my fist, my fingers tangled as she bobs back and forth in slow, deliberate strokes that keep my orgasm teetering on a razor’s edge.

“Now who’s being the tease?” I jest.

I can feel her lips curling into a smile.

“Captain warned you about teaching me bad habits,” she teases, sliding my head back and forth over her tongue, looking too confident for her own good. I fist the coil of hair in my hand and pull, loving the control it gives me as I fight to not give in to her sinful tongue.

“The difference between me and Trevor is I know how to correct bad behavior,” I rasp.

She whimpers when I pull harder. But then her lips twitch upward into a salacious grin.

“Then tell me how you want it, Master. I aim to please.”

Oh, fuck me. I’m a goner . I spin us around so quick her back smacks the wall and I shove my cock to the back of her throat so hard her nails dig into my thighs. I’m sure at least one breaks flesh, but I don’t relent.

With her head pinned between the shower wall and my pelvis, I grip her wrists, suspending them above her head before I go to town fucking her throat.

She chokes a little and has to adjust, but eventually she picks up the new rhythm, relaxing her throat and calming the urge to fight back.

She submits and takes every brutal thrust until she’s screaming around my cock and swallowing every single drop I pump into her.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” I breathe. I’m going to be dehydrated with the number of orgasms she’s elicited from me today.

She licks her lips, swiping a bead of cum from the corner of her mouth. It’s the most seductive thing I’ve ever seen.

“Then I guess we should go,” she retorts, rising to her feet with all the grace of a real princess. Probably due to those sexy calves of hers.

She places a chaste kiss against my lips, and I almost lose control and fuck her against these tiles anyway, but now that we’re back at the arena—basically right back where we started—there’s something on my mind that I can’t get out.

She’s so much calmer now. More comfortable, less irritated, less burdened.

She said that figure skating was over for her and that she felt she wasn’t improving, but in the hours I’ve spent with her even I can tell she’s not that girl anymore.

I kiss her again. “One last thing.”

“No.” She swipes her arms in an X motion. “No more things,” she whines, coming off her tiptoes to rest beneath my chin.

“Please, just one. For me.”

I manifest the best puppy dog eyes I can manage, mimicking Trevor as best I can. It must work because she relents. “What is it?”

Her little hip cocks out and her lips curl into a placating smile.

“I want you to try to do your routine again.”

“Right now ?” she squeaks, her smile falling.

“Yes. Right now,” I nod, not bothering to hide my excitement. This might be the very best idea I’ve ever had.

Sydney looks at me like I’m crazy.

“But why ?”

I want to prove to her she can do it. That she doesn’t need to give up figure skating. That she can have both.

“I have a theory,” I say.

“A theory ?”

“Yes. Just, please, will you do it?” I’m not one to beg, but I am willing to compromise. “Come on, I’ll even do it with you.”

Her shoulders drop and I can tell I’ve won.

“You mean it? You’ll skate with me?” she asks.

“Yes, of course I’ll skate with you.” It’s been fun and games with us for the most part of the evening, but something about this feels significant. Like we’ll be changed forever once we step out onto that ice together.