She shivered beneath his touch. “I wasn’t.”
“You were trying to ignore this—” he traced the line of her neck with the tip of his tongue “—and you know we can’t.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t know, because I’m just so gosh darn innocent.”
He put his hands on her waist, drawing her backside up against his growing erection. “Don’t make a joke of this. Don’t put distance between us.”
“I…Okay.”
“I’ve had the day to think about it and the conclusion I’ve come to is that yes, you were a virgin. But you were right—you knew what you were doing. And you certainly seem to know what you want. So, let me ask you now, what do you want?”
“Ice cream,” she said.
“Too sticky.” He reached past her and took an ice cube out of the bin that sat in the back of the freezer, the chill burning his fingertips before it started to melt. “This, on the other hand, has some possibilities.”
He held the ice cube above her shoulder, a drop of water hitting the curve of her neck and rolling down her pale skin. He leaned in and followed the trail of the drop with the tip of his tongue, warming the cold places.
She put her hands on the fridge, as if bracing herself.
“Good?” he asked.
“I would never have thought of that,” she whispered. “So maybe I’m more innocent than I thought.”
He pressed the corner of the ice cube to her neck, then removed it, following up with a hot kiss. “Do you want me to stop?”
He felt like he was poised on a razor’s edge, waiting for her answer, watching the rise and fall of her petite shoulders with each intake of breath. He would stop if she asked. He would.
“No,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”
Relief flooded him, the sweeping intensity of it pulling on something inside of him. Pulling something loose. The chains to his tightly bound control fell and he felt, for the first time, a kind of deep and growing intensity that he was certain could consume them both.
And he wanted it. Welcomed it. He wanted to drown in it. Lose himself completely.
Never in his life had desire felt like this. Lust was a focused thing for him. Find release, and satisfy it. But this wasn’t about release. This was about the softness of Paige’s body. About the cold, salt and heat in her skin.
This was about the way it would feel to slide inside her again. So tight and perfect.
This was about the journey. About making it take as long to get to the destination as possible.
“I was hoping you would say that.” He gripped the hem of her shirt and she helped him tug it up over her head. Then he turned her, shutting the freezer behind her.
Her round blue eyes were focused on him as she unhooked her bra, revealing those small, perfect breasts to him. Her nipples were puckered, from arousal, from the cold.
He placed the ice cube on her collarbone, water spilling down as he let it drift over her flesh, the droplets curving over the shape of her breasts, tightening her nipples even further, changing them to a deeper shade of blush.
He leaned down and ran his tongue over her breast, then sucked the tightened bud between this lips, the taste of her sending a jolt of painful need through him, making his shaft pulse, the ache in his stomach intensify.
She arched into him, her back against the door of the refrigerator. He continued to suck her breast, one hand anchored on her hip, the other directing the ice, leaving drops on her stomach that rolled downward. She squirmed, a sharp moan of pleasure on her lips.
“Good,” he said, his lips still at her breast.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He straightened and touched the ice to her lips, then kissed her there, deeply. Her lips were cold, the inside of her mouth, her tongue, hot.
He’d never imagined a sexual game could be exciting. He’d never played a sexual game, because sex had never been about the journey.
Until now.
He pulled his mouth from hers and she looked at him, her lips parted. He slipped the remaining bit of ice cube into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.
She leaned in and pressed her cold lips to his throat, the tip of her icy tongue tracing a line on his skin. Cold had long been a method he’d used to regain a handle on his emotions. Of stopping himself from getting out of hand. Of forcing his mind blank, effecting a reboot.