Page 105 of Ice Dance Hockey

He laughs, hysterically. Fair. I’d laugh at him but fuck that. I need his help right now.

“Know what? This was good. I no longer want to have sex with you, anyway.”

“Whoa, just a second. What are you trying to do?”

With my face aflame, I explain the entire scene in the kitchen earlier.

“You didn’t have to turn to those two yahoos.”

“Who else was I supposed to ask?”

“Maybe your boyfriend, eh?”

That gives me good tingles.Boyfriend.I have a boyfriend. “What would my boyfriend suggest?”

“Let me show you,” he says with all the darkness he intends. “I’ll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes.”

“But—” He hangs up and I don’t get the chance to protest.

* * *

Rhett abducts me—with my permission this time—and takes me to his apartment.

I’d shoved the bag of toys into the inner pocket of my large leather jacket, hoping he’d use them on me. They didn’t hold much appeal on their own, but with the prospect of Rhett coming to get me just so we could fool around, interest rose from the dead.

By the time we reach the doors to his penthouse condo, I’m covered in the scent of his Tom Ford Oud Wood.

“Mercy didn’t murder me with his eyes. I think I’m making real progress,” he says, using his fob to unlock the door.

“He’s trying to be supportive because he knows I like you, gorilla.”

Rhett smiles. “You like me.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late. It’s gone to both of them.”

Knowing I’m here because my Rhett, um, my boyfriend, is going to show me how to use my ass for pleasure, has succeeded in quieting my usual snark. He tosses his keyring with his fobs on the counter and stands in front of me, pushing the hair off my face. “Where did you go, beautiful scorpion?”

“S-Sorry, I’m fucking nervous.”

“We don’t have to?—”

“No.I want to.”

“C’mere.”

Rhett shelters me like a cave. He can. He’s a literal mountain. My arms only reach around his torso, but they’re nowhere near touching. I never thought I’d love dating a giant hunk of rock. My heart rate steadies and my breathing evens out.

“There. I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to have fun.”

Without warning, he slings me over his shoulder. “I’m going to murder you, Elkington,” I say, beating on his back, but may he always be able to carry me with my fists pounding on him like I’m nothing more than a fly buzzing around his ear.

He laughs and carries me to the bedroom.

* * *

Iland amidst his fluffy duvet like a sack of potatoes, and he removes his shirt. Underneath his T-shirt is a white tank. His boulder-shaped biceps are on display and I can see the striations of his neck muscles. Wow. “For your enjoyment,” he says. “This is about you. Hopefully, you find me at least a little attractive.”

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