Page 38 of Iced Out

Hell.

My fingers grip at the collar of his hoodie, wrapping the strings around my fist and yanking him in closer. His tongue spears between my lips to find mine, and the second it does, every little bit of pent-up lust and aggression I’ve been feeling for him ignites.

Because this is it. What I’ve been waiting for. What I’ve been fucking craving since the bathroom at the party.

Him, giving in to me and thischemistryhe denied us having.

Admitting to whatever this is between us is real. Tangible.

But admission through action only goes so far. I wanna hear it too, because now? There’s no denying this.

I rip my mouth from his—about to ask for just that—when he cuts me off before I can even start.

“You win,” he half pants, half snarls into my mouth. “Now, shut the fuck up, Quinton.”

Rather than argue, I take a page from his playbook and answer him with another scorching kiss. One to show him there’s no holding back.

Now, there’s only war.

The kind with lips and tongues, rather than shots fired from a gun, but a war nonetheless.

One I intend to win.

He’s not making it easy on me, though, and as we fight for dominance over each other—starting with whose tongue is in the other’s mouth—I’m quickly realizing I might’ve met my match. Hands grip harder than necessary as they slide under shirts, seeking the heat of skin on skin like it’s enough to keep us from annihilating each other. He’s grinding into me, and I’m pressing into him, and we’re clawing at each other like two raging animals.

Pure, carnal need fuels this battle, and it’s one neither of us are prepared to lose.

It’s messy and brutal and fucking addictive, taking all the pent-up aggression and giving him mine in return.

I feel like I could kiss the hatred right out of him.

Crowding further into him, I push and push some more until he’s pressed against the door leading to Coach’s office. He doesn’t let me have the upper hand for long, though, swapping our positions and slamming me back against the wood. Hard enough to leave me breathless.

“Like it a little rough there, Reed?” I murmur, licking at the seam of his lips before he tears them away from mine. “Because I know I do.”

Teeth sink into the line of my jaw as his hips roll into me, eliciting a primal growl from deep within my chest when I feel justhowmuch he likes getting rough with me. The ridge of his erection rubbing against mine sends bursts of adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I could care less about the rivalry, the team, the wins, or this stupid deal we made. All I care about is—

“Don’t fucking stop.”

It comes out as a plea, but it doesn’t matter. Because Oakley presses his hips into me again and again, grinding his dick against mine with the perfect amount of pressure to light my entire body on fire. Or so I thought, but then he slides one of his thighs between my legs, parting them enough so when he lifts my leg to wrap his hip, it—

“Oh,fuck,” I moan on a rough sigh, because this new angle adds frictioneverywhere.My cock is in filthy heaven as it ruts against his thigh, my balls drawn up tight since they’ve joined the fun.

Not even five minutes, and he’s already made my body sing for him.

“What did I say about shutting up, de Haas?” he growls into my neck, the raspy cadence mixed with the heat of his breath sending goosebumps across my skin. The hand holding my thigh skates over the fabric of my sweats, up and up until he’s palming my ass.

“Mmm, then you better make—”

His mouth slams back to mine with bruising force, cutting off my taunt. Hot and hungry, he slips his tongue between my lips and devours me whole. Commanding, yet still in control, the way he is on the ice.

But I wanna see his control slip. Even a little.

My hands slip under his hoodie, tracing over the smooth, defined abs hiding beneath the baggy material. I’m well aware his body is carved to perfection, showcasing the dedication he has to staying in top shape. Hard not to, since we’ve shared a locker room going on four years now while walking around in just towels on the regular.

But fuck me, I wanna explore every curve and line and indent on his body. Learn it with my lips and tongue while it follows the paths my hands have already taken.

The hand cupping my ass tightens with another grinding thrust, and I swear from the rumble I feel rippling through his chest, he’s reading my mind right now. Hearing every dirty thought running rampant through my brain while he fucks my mouth with his talented tongue.

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