Page 34 of Reckless On Ice

I drift through the crowd, away from Lilah and her guys. I want some anonymity to feel the press of bodies and know what it’s like to have a man’s hands on me for the first time in public. Dancing along with the music as Ariana Grande and Zedd’s “Break Free” plays, feeling myself and loving how everyone else is in the moment with me.

The men here are so free with their touches, hands move across my chest and squeeze my biceps as I pass. Smiles are sent my way like butterfly kisses as I glide across the floor. Hips bump mine as I find my groove in a group of sweaty men who make space for me to join them.

A stunning blond, built twink of a man in rainbow booty shorts and face glitter looks up and smiles. His pretty blue eyes sparkle in the colorful strobe lights winking over the dance floor. He spins into my arms and pulls me close as my hips grind against his incredible ass to the beat. I’ve never purposefully been this close and personal with a man who I can be reasonably sure finds me attractive before. It’s fucking incredible. He leans his head back against my chest, looking up at me with a beautiful smile. I cup his delicate face, running a thumb along the high cheekbone dotted with gemstones in wonder at how free he is with his self-expression. He’s ethereal and having the best time dancing, smiling, and singing alongto the songwith me.

“Knox, don’t dance with him,” a deep voice says in my ear as hands pull me back and away from the blond man in my arms.

Annoyance fills me. I turn my head and find Ryder standing stock still as men dance all around us. “You’re not even dancing,” I say, moving out of his grip. I don't want to put up with his button-pushing tonight. I just want to be free and have fun for once.

I hear a groan of frustration, but sure enough, a moment later, Ryder is at my back, his hips moving stiffly along with mine as his arm loops around my waist to hold me close. “Is this what you want, someone rubbing their cock against you? Because I already proved I have no problem doing that,” he bites out against my ear.

The blond in front of me looks at Ryder like this is the best thing he’s seen and pets the arm around my waist. “Hey, hockey hottie,” he yells, his voice high and pretty even over the music. Clearly, he recognizes Ryder, which I’m sure is going to go over so well for him.

I hear a growl. This fucker growled and probably bared his teeth at a poor twink in a gay club. The blond raises his hands, fingers splayed, and takes a step back. “Oh, yaasss queen, you got yourself a possessive man,” he says with a smile at me. “You can have this big beautiful man, hockey daddy. There’s plenty to go around tonight.” He blows a kiss at me and sashays away into the crowd in his sparkly rainbow shorts that lookoh so tempting.

I step out of Ryder’s hold and turn around. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You cannot growl at people, you Neanderthal. What would Goldie think?” I shout over the music. Admittedly, it was pretty hot, but he doesn't need to know I liked it even a little bit.

Ryder doesn't look ashamed. “He was too close.”

“We were dancing,” I say in exasperation. “I’m allowed to be close to someone I'm dancing with.” I turn and move through the throng of bodies, hoping to be swallowed up again and lose myself in the music and freedom I’ve finally embraced.

A handsome as hell man with pretty brown eyes grabs my wrist and pulls me close. I follow willingly, dancing to a remix of “Love Myself” by Hailee Steinfeld. The man is built, his unbuttoned shirt showing off a broad, well-defined chest and abs I could do laundry on. I run my fingers up his abs to his chest just to try it out, and hell, does it feel good to touch someone because I want to. Mr. Muscles tips his head back and loops an arm around my waist as we move to the beat. I’m a good six inches taller than him, but that’s not unusual, so he’s looking up at me like I’m the prettiest thing he’s seen all night, and it sets me on fire to be the object of someone’s desire for once. He runs his fingers down my chest and over my abs, my muscles jumping under his touch. It has my breath coming in hot pants. I’m attention starved, and this night feels like a buffet after being on a diet for too long.

A big arm slides between me and Mr. Muscles, the giant hand pushing my dance partner away as Ryder steps betweenus. “He’s here with someone. Get your fucking hands off of him.”

“The fuck are you doing now?” I say, grabbing Ryder’s shoulder.

“It’s a club. We were dancing,” Mr. Muscles says, not put off by Ryder’s aggression. Actually, he seems to like it. “You want to join us? I wouldn’t mind being the meat in your big Manwich.”

“I don’t share,” Ryder and I say in unison before looking at each other. Well, that was fucking awkward.

“It’s not like you were dancing with him,” Mr. Muscles points out to Ryder.

I push Ryder away from Mr. Muscles before he can respond. “Why won't you let me have this, Ryder? You’re not even dancing with me the way I want to dance. Why can’t I dance with someone else? Is it because you want me?” I ask as a club remix of Rihanna’s “We Found Love” plays.

I’m done with his tantrums. Done with being pushed to my limit by this man-child who won’t admit what he wants. Done with being the bigger person and not rising to his bait. If he wants to push me, he can see what happens.

Turning, I pull Ryder into my body, scissoring our thighs together, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning back to roll my hips into his like I’m fucking him. I gyrate down and sway my way back up his thigh, holding a hand on my head, biting my lip and getting into it. I’m really giving him everything I have so he knows what it feelslike to be pushed the way he’s been pushing me for months. When I’m chest-to-chest with him, I slip my arms around his waist and put my hands on his fucking amazing ass. Pulling him tight, I grind even harder, circling our hips sinfully, and put my face close to his. There’s no mistaking his hard cock when mine is smashed against his and I’m rocking our hips together. Goddamn it feels good even if I’m fucking with him, so I try to memorize every stolen second so I can recall it later when I’m alone. I drag my nose along his cheek until my lips are a breath away from his.

“What’re you going to do about it, Reckless?” I taunt as I lick my lips, letting my tongue brush over his.

Ryder’s hands come up lightning fast and latch around my throat and the back of my head, holding me in place as his lips crash into mine. He’s demanding and insistent, and I go pliant immediately, my mouth opening for him to plunder and take what he wants. I grip his shirt like a lifeline as the dangerous whitewater rapids of Ryder Kingston wash over me and pull me into his undertow. Even his still waters disguise deadly drop-offs and jagged rocks. I’m swept into the current of his rushing river eyes as his tongue tangles with mine, and I taste the astringent whiskey and sweet Coke he was drinking along with the incredible taste ofhim. Holy fuck, can this man kiss. He moans against me and my cock goes rigid at the needy sound, my tongue working furiously against his, wanting everything he’ll give me before he realizes his mistake. But it’s him who takes everything from me, stealing my breathand leaving me gasping as he finally slows the kiss and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth.

He rests his forehead against mine, his hands gripping my shoulders tightly, like he doesn't want to let go. My heart jackhammers in my chest as my hips rub shamelessly against him in search of friction and relief for the ache he’s put in me. I’ve been so good, keeping to myself, not reacting to him when it would have been so easy, but now I can’t stop my body’s urge to touch and be touched. My eyes flutter open, the club lights strobing and flashing around us in pinks, greens, and blues, lighting up the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen as he stares in wide-eyed shock back at me. It breaks my damn heart to see that look on his face. That was the best fucking kiss of my life and it was with a guy who is so caught up in his identity he probably didn't even know what he was doing.

Eighteen

Ryder

Holy fuck. I just kissed Knox. No, this can’t be happening. I crossed a line that is beyond bad because it was too fucking good. The worst part is that I want to do it again and again until my lips are bruised and raw.

Knox grabs my arm, steering me off the dance floor, through the sweaty crowd of people, and into a corridor toward the exit. It’s quieter here. I can hear the rushing of blood pounding in my ears that sounds likekiss him kiss him kiss him.

“Ryder, that was…” Knox begins, his fingers coming up to his lips, his big espresso eyes trained on me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

“A mistake,” I finish for him because it has to be. No waycan that happen again, and I shouldn't want it to. I’m not gay. I don't like dudes.

Uh, about that,a voice says in my head that sounds a lot like my dick, which is rock hard in my pants, and wanting, badly, for Knox to rub up on me again. He moved in a way that shouldn't be possible for an athlete of his size—all fluidity and sexy curves, bending and rolling like his bones were rubber. His cock was hard as he pressed against me in that fucking sexy dance, and I loved it. Okay, maybe I’m not exactly straight, but I can’t unpack that now when I’m reeling from this wildly inappropriate mistake.

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