Page 124 of Break the Ice
Colt sets off on a stroll, passing through the crowd of socializing funeral guests. I watch him go, still with a grin on my face.
As demented as it sounds, things have worked out for the best.
Colt has gotten what he wants—ownership over Dad’s legacy and fortune. I’ve gotten rid of two opposing forces that sought to sabotage and control me.
I don’t leave the funeral long after Colt. I hop in one of the classic Corvettes I’ve inherited from Dad and get the hell out of there.
It takes me less than half an hour to make it to the only place on my mind. I pull up outside Marisse’s high-rise apartment building and head up to her floor. My knuckles double tap her front door.
She answers a second later in a slouchy sweater and leggings. Her headful of thick red curls is pulled up in a thick bun. Her eyes sparkle at the sight of me before she throws herself into my arms.
“How did it go?”
“Three hours of my life I’ll never get back. But it wouldn’t be Dad or Hawk if they didn’t piss me off one last time before they’re buried.”
“You should’ve let me come with you.”
“I’d never put you through that kind of torture, Sugar. Other types of torture that end with you in a puddle of cum—yes. But even I have my limits.”
She laughs softly, patting her hands on my chest to express her disbelief. Then she seems to realize we’re still standing in her doorway and attempts to pull me deeper into her apartment.
“Want to order in? We have a lot of packing to do.”
“I’ve got something else in mind,” I say, slipping her fingers between mine. “But first you’re going to need to put shoes on.”
33. Marisse
Rafe brings us to where it all began—Climate Pledge Arena where the Wolves play.
The arena that regularly holds close to twenty thousand people bears no other sign of life but us. The many rows of seats are empty, and the ground floor of the colosseum-sized arena feels even wider and more open-spaced than usual. The ice is perfect and unmarked, glinting under the high intensity lamps that hang from above.
Rafe brings me to the ice rink and then gestures at the two pairs of skates waiting for us.
“What are you waiting for, Sugar? Lace up.”
I sputter out a laugh of disbelief. “You brought me here for the race?”
“You said you wanted a chance to beat me. Victor gets to choose the next game.”
“Sounds like a nice chance for revenge,” I say in a challenging tone. “I can think of plenty of ways to get back at you for the crap you pulled during truth or dare. Cock ring anyone?”
His light brown eyes contain his amusement. His handsome face and distracting dimples almost do me in. He draws me close by his arm hooked around my waist and drops a kiss on my lips.
“Choose wisely, Sugar. It might come back to bite that little plump ass of yours.”
We lace up and skate onto the ice side by side at a slow pace. The crisp air circulates around us, making my cheeks feel cool. I do some light warming up by breaking away from Rafe and skating around in small circles.
He slows up just to watch me. An almost spellbound effect glazes over his face as if he’s mesmerized by the sight. Something that doesn’t happen often to Rafe Golding of all people.
I do a couple quick turns, picking up speed. I race toward him ’til I’m only a few feet away and then I’m braking. Coming to a gradual, gentle halt directly in front of him, I’m wearing a bright, confident smirk.
“Ready when you are, Alpha.”
He comes out of his trance with a blink, then grins to match mine. “You’re going down.”
“We’ll see about that.”
There’s a sexually charged element in the cold air as we determine our rules. One round around the ice. Winner is the first one to reach our starting point at the center line.
