Page 20 of Back On Ice

Takeout sounds heavenly, so I go through the menus stuffed into a drawer in the kitchen. Almost every place I've eaten with Carter at some point. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, but his close proximity and the memory of his kiss fresh on my mind has me flighty. None of these places will work. But at the very bottom of the stack… yes!

Pad Thai.

I only got into it a couple of years ago, so there are no Carter-related memories of Pad Thai Express. By the time the food arrives, I’ve flopped on the couch and have flipped through the channels on the TV at least ten times. Everything reminds me of that damn kiss. Rom-coms. Sitcoms. Even the documentary I found was on the relationship of Cleopatra and Mark Antony. Everything has some sort of love-story plotline in it.

A half hour later, the takeout container is empty, and I didn’t get to watch more than five minutes of one show or movie before something vaguely romantic happened or was mentioned.

Thinking of reading a book, I go through my bookshelf and curse myself for how many romance novels I have. Don’t I own anything more… platonic?

Checking Tom’s room, I can only find books on hockey. That’s equally unhelpful.

Maybe something… younger would be good. Does Jordan have like… Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew novels? I crack his door open, but immediately slam it shut when I’m met with a giant poster of Carter’s face.

Well, that’s new. But, of course. Favorite hockey player of all time and all that.

By the time eight thirty hits, my quest for reading material ends, and I decide to take a nice, hot, relaxing shower. I’ll go tobed early, and by the time I wake up tomorrow, all thoughts of Carter’s soft, demanding lips will be out the window and I can pretend like it never happened.

When Tom, Jordan, and I moved into this house, Tom gave me the master bedroom so I could have my own bathroom. While I protested, I’m especially grateful for it now since Jordan is at the age where clothes are all over the floor and their tub is lined with ten different body washes. I don’t think I’d have room for any of my stuff if I had to share.

The hot water envelops me like a steamy embrace, and I realize there’s no getting rid of the memory of that kiss. Not tonight, at least.

As I wash my hair, my mind goes back to the night we had sex for the first time. The way we danced at the championship game afterparty, then made out behind one of the lake cabins.

Then at my house, empty since my parents were out of town, he pushed me against the door once we were inside and kissed me. My hands move across my body as the memory overtakes me.

A moan escapes me as his tongue plunders into my mouth, allowing me to taste him fully. His responding growl sends heat down to my pussy, which is already clenching in anticipation. He shoves a knee between my legs, allowing me to grind my pulsing clit down on his clothed leg.

One of my hands dips down into my folds while the other grasps my breast. My fingers circle my clit, feeding the spark that’s been burning since Carter kissed me. Remembering the way he carried me up to my bed, slowly undressed me, and made me come on his fingers and tongue have me writhing.

“Oh, Carter.” My voice is breathless as he dips his fingers past my underwear, swiping through my folds. They swirl and tease over my clit at the same tempo as his tongue twirls over my nipple.

A moan escapes me as he delves two fingers into me, his thumb taking over my clit. The sensations build, sending me higher and higher until —

He withdraws his fingers and mouth from me.

“What are you —?”

“I want you to come in my mouth.”

Wordlessly, I nod as he pulls off my thong, settling in between my thighs.

“So pretty,” he breathes, staring at my pussy in wonder, “I’ve never seen it so close before.”

My cheeks redden at the compliment, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He places a gentle, open-mouthed kiss on my folds, and it’s easily the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced. I inhale sharply, and he rumbles in satisfaction, his tongue taking over as he slowly circles my clit. I writhe on the bed, desperate for him to make contact with that one spot. Finally, he pulls my clit into his mouth, eliciting a deep moan from me.

Slipping two fingers inside of me, I lean back against the tile of the shower and rub the heel of my palm against my clit. I’ve tried so hard to not think of that night, but Carter’s kiss has brought back every memory. Every touch, the way he looked at me as he slid inside me for the first time. How sweet he was.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me."

“I won’t want you to stop.” My voice is barely a whisper.

He pushes forward, and I gasp at the intrusion, his thick length stretching me painfully. He stops when he hears me, breathing hard himself, “Is it too much?” I shake my head fervently.

“Just breathe,” he says, his arms trembling slightly as he continues to press into me. Once he’s fully seated, I take a few measured breaths until the burning sensation fades. I meet hiseyes and nod, and he moves slowly, both of us letting out a low groan.

The burning sensation quickly fades, and he picks up his paces, his face burrowing into my neck. "You're amazing, Sophie," he pants, his breath hot on my skin. "So beautiful, so perfect."

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