Page 103 of Miami Ice

“Minnie Pinny is going to have to wait to meet you,” he says, his words warm and vibrating deliciously against my skin, “because I still don’t know how that Key lime pie tastes on your mouth.”

Ooh!

His mouth dips lower, and he begins to press a trail of kisses down the column of my neck. My pulse careens out of control as I feel the stubble from his five o’clock shadow graze against my skin. I move one hand up, snaking it behind his head, and he groans the second I touch him.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs into me, his breath now coming in a heated rush. “And the scent of you has been driving me crazy since the day I met you.”

Then I feel his tongue and teeth lightly graze my skin, and my whole body goes hot. My breath hitches in my throat, and to my surprise, a new feeling comes into play.

I feel desired.

Not by a man who merely wants sex, but by a man who wants me.

All of me.

His hand on my waist snakes underneath my top, lightly skimming across my stomach. Goose bumps sweep across myskin from the sensation of his rough, masculine hands so carefully gliding across it.

“Georgie,” he moans into my neck. “Your skin is so soft. You feel so good.”

My heart thumps rapidly when I hear the way he says my name. I wriggle around in his arms so I can face him. His eyes have a dazed look in them, and that sparks something in my heart. I can’t say what, but it’s something I’ve never come close to feeling before. The fact that he’s touching me like this, wanting me like this, saying how he has craved the taste of me, is sparking all kinds of different big feelings in me.

I put my hands on his face and draw it closer to mine, his lips mere inches from my own. “Kiss me here, Beckham,” I plead. “Kiss me on the mouth.”

His lips brush lightly against mine. Then his tongue dances across the seam of my lips, teasing me and sending a shiver through me. He parts my lips with his, and his tongue slips inside my mouth and tangles with mine in a passionate kiss.

A groan escapes his throat. “God, you’re sweet,” he murmurs between kisses. “You taste so freaking good, Georgie.”

I feel a tingling sweep through the pit of my stomach. I kiss him back, drinking him in, tasting the sweetness of soda and tartness of lime that is lingering on his lips. His scent wraps around me, I feel his hand sliding up the back of my blouse, toward my bra strap.

And I want his hands all over me.

The kiss intensifies, and his fingertips find my bra hooks. I suck in a breath, feeling his finger twist around it, and then he abruptly stops the kiss.

“Wh-what?” I gasp. “What’s wrong?”

Beckham rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard. I continue to stroke the hair at the back of his head, confused as to why he stopped kissing me.

He finally lifts his head, and I see his espresso-colored eyes have grown serious.

“Nothing is wrong. It’s all different,” he says, his voice rough.

Something has shifted in the way he’s looking at me. Here we are, in his hotel room, fully clothed, yet he’s staring at me with such a look of reverence, it takes my breath away.

“It’s different in the best way possible,” Beckham continues, cupping my face in his hands. “I feel things just from kissing you and touching you like this. Things I have never felt before. The way I care about you. The way I’m getting hard just from stroking your skin. The way everything about you is a discovery I want to imprint in my brain and keep forever. I know you talked about having big feelings, Georgie. This is my way of saying I’m having them, too.”

My heart explodes against my ribs from his beautiful words. I open my mouth to speak, but he quickly places his index finger over my lips to stop me.

“Before you say anything, nothing has changed as far as what I want tonight. I know the boundary you set about sex,” Beckham says. He gently brushes his fingertip over my lips with a feather-light motion. “And I will respect that, Georgie. We do as much or as little as you want tonight. I won’t do anything to rush it. This is happening fast, and I don’t expect you to change your mind because of how I feel. We have all the time in the world to take that step. Because what we are building is the most important thing to me.Youare the most important thing to me.”

Then he replaces his fingertip with his lips, kissing me sweetly.

As he lifts his head and gazes down at me once again, this time grazing my cheek with his knuckles, something shifts inside of me. It’s unexpected, and it takes me by surprise—in the best way possible.

“I know you said you are having big feelings,” I say, my voice quiet. “And I am, too.”

Beckham’s eyes lock on mine, but he remains silent, waiting for me to say more.

“And yes, this is happening fast—for me,” I admit. “But I’m not scared of it. I feel nothing but joy when you say these beautiful things to me.”

---