Page 15 of Dreams on the Ice

“Of course, they were snobby assholes, Forrest,” she whispers, her eyes sparkling and dancing as she looks into mine. Every ounce of my being is itching to kiss her right now. But I don’t, and she continues. “They have more money than God, and everyone kisses their asses on a daily basis. I would be an asshole, too.”

Chuckling, I lift the bottle to my mouth again and take a long pull of beer. “Yeah,” I murmur, taking the bottle away. “I used to be one of them. It’s easy to be.”

She turns her whole body toward me, her gaze holding mine as she laughs softly. When she looks into my eyes, she sees me. I know she does. She always has, and that makes me feel equal parts intrigued and uncomfortable.

“Yeah, you were. But at the same time, I don’t think you were as bad as any of them. You left for a reason.”

I want to wrap my arm around her waist and bring her closer to my side, but I decide against it. If I pull her closer, I’m going to want to take things further… hell, I already want to take things all the way.

I want to taste her—every square inch.

I want to be inside of her.

I want to hear the noises she makes when she’s on the brink of an orgasm.

I just plain want her like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life.

“I did,” I murmur. “But I didn’t really ever leave.” She brings her glass to her lips and takes a drink as I continue. “I spent my money because I had a trust fund coming my way. Like money meant nothing. And now I fuckinghavenothing.”

Brooklynn turns slightly and sets her wineglass down on the banister. Then she shifts her attention back to mine. I take that moment to set my own bottle down. Then I face her as well, waiting for whatever it is she’s going to say to slam into me because I know that it will.

She lifts her hands between us, placing her palms against my chest. Closing my eyes slowly, I feel her touch against me, trying not to rip my shirt off so I can feel her hands on my bare flesh.

Her head tilts back slightly so that her eyes are on mine. “You don’t havenothing, Forrest. You have more than a lot of people. You have a great career, and you have a whole group of people, which are your family, who love you. And you have…”

“I have?” I ask when she doesn’t continue.

I hope to God that she says I have her. Because I’m ready to make her scream. All she has to do is say the word, and I’m fucking on it. Her throat clears, one of her hands slides up my chest, and then her fingers curl around the side of my neck.

Silence descends between us.

We stare at one another, and then she blinks, dipping her chin slightly before she decides to say something.

“Me, Forrest. You have me.”

I could fuck her right here, right now, and I wouldn’t think twice about it. Her words go straight to my fucking dick. The only logical response that I have is to kiss her, but instead of doing that, I take a step backward. Her hand falls from my neck to her side.

“I better get to bed. Tomorrow is going to come early,” I stupidly announce.

BROOKLYNN

Lying in bed, I stare at the ceiling and wonder if I’m actually going to get any sleep at all. I can’t stop thinking about Forrest and about his life here in super over-the-top Richlandia. I mean, my parents have a little money, but it’s nothing like this.

This is old money.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I have to admit that I could get used to it… except the people. None of them have been all that great. That Sascha girl seemed nice, but she was the only one who I would consider having a real conversation with.

Rolling to the side, I tuck my hands beneath my cheek as I stare at the wall. There is some kind of fancy-ass painting hanging in the middle. I know it’s fancy because it has one of those gallery lights above it.

With a heavy sigh, I roll onto my back and look up at the ceiling again, waiting for the sun to rise. Tomorrow, I have to do a ladies’ brunch while the men go out and skeet shoot, and then there is some kind of evening dinner party with dancing.

The brunch sounds like a nightmare, and I know I’m going to have to be at the top of my game because these women are absolutely ruthless. They’ll chew you up and spit you out if you’re not watching your back.

It feels like I’m in one of those old movies with Regency-era people. This whole world is totally foreign to me. I’m trying to envision this life for Forrest, not just him as an adult, but as a boy and teenager. I just can’t.

He doesn’t belong here.

He never did.

---