Page 67 of Ice, Love, & Other Penalties

“We’re not having sex,” I say, hoping that will keep him away.

“That’s okay. As long as you let me be with you until I have to leave in the morning.”

“Don’t do this, Ty, please,” I beg him.

“Love you?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“You seem to be ready for bed. Why don’t we go upstairs? I promise not to fall more in love with you tonight,” he says, but that smirk on his lips tells me that it’d be impossible to keep that promise.

“We can have tea and then you leave,” I propose.

He nods. “Let’s have tea and see what happens afterwards.” He winks at me and I have the feeling that he’s not going to leave tonight.

Well, I hope the couch is comfortable because I don’t plan on sharing my bed with him. Nope.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Indigo

I feel his fingers curl around my hip, pulling me closer to him. His free hand runs down my spine, sending shivers through my body. I gasp as his thumb brushes against my sensitive flesh, causing my eyes to close involuntarily. I lean into his touch, wanting more.

You shouldn’t have let him sleep in with you, but we were so tired, I respond to myself, grinding my hips closer to him, wanting to reach for his hard cock and just ride him. But I don’t move, I just let him do anything to me.

He kisses my neck, his lips soft against my skin. His teeth graze my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. I moan softly, unable to resist the wave of desire that washes over me.

“Do you like that?” His voice is rough, full of emotion.

I nod, unable to speak. His fingers continue their slow massage against my skin, moving up and down my spine. I can feel the tension in my body start to ease as the pleasure builds.

“You’re so responsive,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “I could spend all night making love to you.”

“Ty, fuck me,” I moan.

“You want me to fuck you hard, little minx? Fill you up, make you mine?” His throaty voice makes every cell of my body quiver.

The thought of him stretching me, possessing me sends a jolt of excitement through me. I want him to spend all night here, making love, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. But we can’t . . . not yet.

I’m not ready for him, for us. Will I ever be?

“We shouldn’t,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady.

He pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes. “Why not?”

Because we’re not ready, I want to say.

He kisses me again, this time more passionately. His hand moves from my back to my breast, gently cupping it through my shirt. I gasp at the sensation, my body responding instinctively.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against my lips. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

I shake my head, unable to speak. He smiles, his green eyes dark with desire. And then he leans in, his lips finding mine in a slow, sensual kiss.

I respond eagerly, opening my mouth to him. His tongue sweeps inside, tangling with mine in a dance of passion. I feel my heart racing, my body on fire. This is what I’ve been missing, what I’ve been craving. And he’s the one who can give it to me.

The sound of water running fills the room, breaking the intense moment. We pull apart, both of us breathing heavily. He stands up.

“Don’t go,” I beg him.

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