Page 49 of Back On Ice

“I can take more,” I tell him when he withdraws again, earning a rumble from his chest as he slides back in, this time holding himself in place for a few seconds before sliding out. Then he looses control and fucks my face, hard. Tears stream down my cheeks. I feel myself dripping down my thighs as he uses my mouth. The obscene sounds he makes only turn me on more, knowing that I’m the one causing him to act this way.

Suddenly, he pulls out of my mouth with a pop and pulls me to my feet, turning me around and bending me over the side of the bed. Grabbing my long hair in a tight grip, he drives into me in one hard thrust, causing me to see stars as white-hot pleasure fills me. My fists grip the sheets tightly, and a wanton cry escapes me.

Everything is heightened since I can’t see what’s happening. Before long, I’m screaming his name as I clench and cum around him yet again, sending him to his own release as well.

He nearly collapses on top of me, but moves so he lands on the bed and removes my blindfold. Blinking at the light in the room, my focus is immediately drawn to Carter, who moves to kiss me gently.

“Thank you,” he says softly, wrapping me in his arms. “For trusting me enough to let go.”

It would be dangerously easy to get used to waking up like this. Slowly, with the soft rays of morning light peeking through the hotel room curtains and strong, warm arms wrapped around me. My arms aren’t even sore from the restraints, and Carter’s steady breathing tells me he’s still asleep, so I close my eyes, basking in the feeling of being in his arms.

What we did last night flashes through my mind. I’m not sure I could ever let go like that with anyone else. With Carter, it feels so good to let him be in control. It’s amazing, it’s like he knows my body better than I do and can always give me just what I need in order to let go.

Plus, the man is amazing at aftercare. He washed my hair and body in the shower, then gave me a full body massage before feeding me Chinese food from my favorite restaurant.

It’s clear that he never stopped caring about me, even if he had been powerless to do anything about it. Every time we’re together, whether we’re skating at the rink together, grabbing a bite to eat, or tumbling in bed, it’s like a mix of apology and desperate need. Like he’s trying to make up for every year we spent apart.

I can’t afford to get too used to it. Before long, hockey season will start again and it’s possible he’ll sign with a team nowhere near here. He said he wanted to stay close to home, but I’m trying to be realistic. What are the chances of that actually happening?

But you know what? It doesn’t even matter. Because we’re not in a relationship. We’re just two old friends reconnecting.

In every possible way.

As amazing as this week’s been, this morning I’m stressed, anxiety turning in my gut.

Today is the press conference announcing the new plans for Twin Rinks. First, I’ll need to present the new programs I thought of and list of ways to bring in business once the rebuild is done. Then, Carter will present the 3D model of the building he had the developers create as a sort of grand finale. The exact model I approved of. Not the one in the second proposal.

I remember how Carter had stormed into the last council meeting, demanding to know who had requested that proposal for an NHL arena. After exchanging glances and murmuring their ignorance, the entire table looked to Oscar, who was the only one who hadn’t said anything. If his pale-as-a-sheet complexion was anything to go by, he hadn’t told a single soul what he was doing.

“It was just… I was just curious,” Oscar had stammered, looking to his fellow council members for support.

When none came, Oscar had blanched further, and we received an apology from Abbie’s dad, Michael, about the confusion.

Sadly, the memory of that moment where Carter stood up for me does little to stifle my nerves about the presentation.

I’ve never been great at public speaking, and I’m nervous about talking in front of so many people. Addressing the board during a meeting while I’m in the audience? Not a big deal.

Being the one at the front of the room, addressing hundreds of people? In front of reporters and cameras. Very big deal.

Everything that could possibly go wrong runs through my head. What if everyone hates it and the town convinced the board the rinks are a lost cause after all? What if everyone loves it and it doesn’t turn out how it’s supposed to? What if I get up there and puke in front of everyone?—

I almost stiffen as Carter’s arms tighten around me, throwing me from my panicking thoughts. “Good morning, Angel,” he rumbles into my ear.

“Hey, you.” I try to sound unfazed by the scenarios running through my head. Or so I think.

He immediately senses something is off. Using his hands to roll me over, Cart scoots back and brings us face to face. He looks so beautiful like this. Mussed hair, sleepy smile, and an imprint on his cheek from the pillow.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his eyes searching my face.

“How do you know I’m thinking about anything?” I arch a brow, fighting the smile that wants to appear despite of my worries. I love that he reads me so well. When he first came back to town, it really pissed me off. Now though, I realize that it’s a testament to how much he’s always cared about me.

“Your voice did that thing it does when you’re nervous about something. Like a little breathy twitch at the end of the word.” His brows are furrowed like he’s trying to figure something out. “What’s making you anxious?”

There’s no point in trying to hide it from him. “It’s just… the press conference today. It has me a little on edge.”

“It’s going to go great,” he reassures me, running his hand up and down my arm. “You’re going to kick ass, and everyone’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, but what if—” My question is cut off by him pulling me closer and pressing a kiss to my lips.

---