Page 74 of No Promises, No Lies

Aidan slows over by the far end of the rink, dragging a hockey net out onto the ice. I linger in the center circle, watching him. I don’t know why I do. It’s late. I should already be home, sleeping or mentally preparing for my competition. But for reasons unknown, my skates are frozen in place.

Aidan notices me staring and the corner of his lip ticks up into a knowing smile. “Give me a hand with this.” He motions to the heavy goal post he’s trying to set on its peg.

I start toward him, but halfway there think better of it. I come to a stop, warring with indecision. I really shouldn’t be alone with him.He did already steal me once.He sighs, setting downthe net. “Come on Rory, I promise… I’ll only bite if you ask me to.” His green eyes sparkle as he shoots me a smug little wink.

My immediate reaction is to roll my eyes, but in truth, I’m stalling, hesitating for a whole new reason.He said my name.Out loud. I can’t remember if I’ve ever heard him use my name before… And the way his faint Irish accent curled around the R’s… Not to mention thewordsthat followed my name…

Aidan raises his eyebrows, and I flush. Keeping my eyes on my skates, I finally skate the rest of the way over to help with the post. Dropping to one knee, I raise the goal peg that had fallen over. Aidan lifts the net, deftly dropping it into place and setting the goal.

I rise slowly. He doesn’t back away. I catch a whiff of his now familiar scent. The amusement in his eyes fades into something more serious. I can’t look away—lost in darkening pine green. Out of nowhere, I’m hit with an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“Your competition’s Saturday, isn’t it?” His voice interrupts the intrusive thought.

“Yes,” I say, surprised he knows.Distracted while chastising myself for that last thought.

“Still having trouble landing that combination?” My cheeks heat with embarrassment.He’s been watching me.It’s a sensitive subject, and I’m instantly defensive.I’ve landed it.I justdon’tmore often than Ido.Jaw tight, I avoid looking at Aidan.

“You’re in your head.”

Ibristle at his observation; Not because he’s wrong. On the contrary, the asshole is dead on. Karina still says I’m trying too hard. My fixation with perfecting the combination keeps me from landing it. A glorious paradox.

“I know,” I admit softly, still avoiding his gaze, “it’s hard to find my way out…”Skating is different than how it used to be.Before mom and the accident. Before the Russians, Irish and Italians.It used to be fun, but now…

I can feel the heat radiating off of him, both of us surrounded by the icy chill of the rink. When Aidan says nothing for several breaths, I chance a look up at him through my lashes.

His eyes, dark and intense, are locked on me. And once my eyes meet his, it’s impossible to look away. He glides forward slowly, closing the already too small gap between us. My breath catches, inhaling a warm, heady, vanilla scent I recognize as his. Aidan’s gaze drops to my lips, and he leans in.

“What are you doing?” Suddenly nervous, I back away, but his glove catches the back of my neck, halting my retreat while invading every single one of my senses.

“Getting you out of your head,” he murmurs softly before he closes the gap.

His kiss is tentative—gentle. Nothing like I would expect from the rough-cut Breakers defenseman—or the Irish Mob’s enforcer.

I don’t kiss him back; too stunned to react properly or push him away. The tip of Aidan’s tongue traces along my bottom lip, as if asking permission. He increases the pressure of his lips on mine and I fold, opening for him.

That’s all it takes for him to consume me entirely. My lips move alongside his, his tongue searching my mouth hungrily. His gloves find my hips, pulling my body against his.

And I let him,my skates gliding on the ice.

I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s bad—It’s bad for so many reasons. But I don’t want to stop—can’t stop—physicallyunableto stop—and work out the exact reasons why. A familiar heat sparks, growing in intensity and I press my thighs together, needing the pressure.

Aidan breaks our kiss, pulling away, and I chase after him, my eyes fluttering open.

“Patience,” he chides, his dark smile igniting every nerve ending straight down to my core. I’m breathless, though it’s only been seconds. He nods behind me. I didn’t realize he’d pushed us across the arena. My back is almost up against the door to the penalty box.

With his eyes locked on mine, Aidan takes the hockey stick he’s still holding in his hand and reaches behind me, shoving the end into the door latch, opening it.

Need and anticipation, mixed with fear and second thoughts, cloud my mind. I open my mouth to stop this before it’s too late, but get nothing out because he bends down, scooping me up. My traitorous legs wrap around him as he carries me into the box.

Slamming the door shut behind us.

Once inside, his mouth is back on mine. I’m caught between the glass and him and it’s overwhelming. I am aware of every inch of my body that touches his. Rationality melts away, replaced with an all-consuming need to becloser.

Aidan’s mouth leaves my lips only to find my neck. I arch into him, curling my fingers in his hair. When he grazes my ear with the tip of his tongue, tracing along the sensitive cartilage, I let out a shaky whimper. A bone shaking shiver tears through my body.

He chuckles, the warmth of his breath ghosting my skin. It’s too much, and I rock my hips, grinding into his leg, needing his attention lower—so much lower.Aidan’s eyes meet mine, darkening with desire. He’s tossed his gloves. His bare fingers find the little sliver of skin across my stomach. His touch sets my skin alight, sending tiny electric shocks directly to my core. I’m already a trembling mess before his fingers dip below the waistline of my leggings, playing along the hem.

Aidan’s green eyes never leave mine, searching them—asking.

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