Page 48 of Heat It Up (Off the Ice)
We return to the cottage and I change into my white lace bikini in the bedroom. I don’t wait for Kyle while he changes into his swimming trunks. I’m already toeing my way into the water when he emerges from the building.
A brief glance at him is all I need to remind myself of the power he has over my body. God, it’s not fair. Just one look at him and my body aches for him to touch me again. I’m not talking about how toned his body is. I’m talking about how his gaze roams over my body in a way that makes me feel beautiful. If any other guy did that, I would have felt shy and self-conscious.
An army of emotions battles in me, with confusion in the top spot. One minute he’s running cool and wants nothing to do with me, beyond being my friend. The next he’s on fire and wants to devour me with his kisses. And let’s not forget to throw in an extra order of how my body responds to his slightest touch. It’s no wonder I’m lost as to what’s going on between us.
And it looks like I’m not the only one struggling with this. The same battle of emotions warring in me is affecting him, too. He steps closer so our bodies almost touch. A mischievous look crosses his face. That’s all the warning I get before he scoops me up in his arms and walks into the lake.
I squirm in his arms, which doesn’t do much for the buzz zinging through me with his hard yet warm body pressed against mine. “Kyle, put me down.” My arms go around his neck. “Please.”
He tightens his hold on me and strides deeper into the water. I shriek as the cold lake laps my butt and my legs. He laughs and lets go of me.
I disappear under the water, the cold pressing in on me. My feet find the silty bottom and I push myself to stand. Kyle’s chuckling when I emerge. I send a tidal wave of water at him. Laughing harder, he dodges it, then grabs hold of my waist and pulls me close so only a thin layer of water separates us. The water around us might be cold, but the water separating us is toasty warm. Kyle’s toasty warm.
I take in his light blue eyes as they watch me from behind his glasses. My gaze drifts to the small scar under the outer corner of his left eye. As if drawn by it, my finger traces along the smooth surface. “How did you get that?” I whisper, too afraid to speak any louder and betray the longing flaring in me.
“It happened when I was nine. I was playing hockey and the puck hit me in the face.” His voice is low and deep, the sound of it velvet trailing across my skin.
The longing intensifies.
My fingers trace along the curve of his cheekbones down to the day-old stubble on his jaw. The magnetic drive between us strengthens and my lips crave to touch the same places my fingers explored. I press my mouth against his jaw and relish the roughness of his stubble against my skin. And then, as if my body is no longer interested in what my brain has to say, the tip of my tongue tastes his flesh and doesn’t want to stop at just that. It keeps exploring him, along his jaw and his neck. And because that isn’t enough, and my teeth want in on the action, I nibble his neck—something I never did with Ian.
A slight moan vibrates through Kyle’s chest and makes me bolder. My mouth moves to his and I kiss him, deeply, taking everything he’ll give me and so much more. Before I have a chance to register what’s happening, Kyle’s hands slide down the backs of my legs and in a smooth movement he lifts me. My legs go around his hips, grinding us together. Our kisses become more consuming, and any doubts I have that he wants me as much as I want him vanish.
At least it does until his mouth pulls away a minute later and he lets me slip back into the water. His expression is back to what it was earlier—the battlefield of emotions. “The sauna should be ready now,” he says, voice strained. His gaze drops to my arms. “You’re cold.”
Disappointment and frustration course through me and I glance at my arms. Goose bumps cover my skin, but not for the reasons he thinks. Unable to look at him, I nod.
Without a word, I trudge through the water to the beach. He doesn’t move for several seconds before splashing after me. The sound of him approaching kicks me into action and I run back to shore, pretending I’m just eager to get into the hot sauna after the cold lake. Okay, maybe not so much pretending.
A cool wind brushes against me, reminding me that the storm will hit us in a few hours. For a brief moment I contemplate telling Kyle we should head back to the mainland, but then we’re faced with another long drive home. It also means showing up a day earlier than planned, which will be hard to explain to Muumu. I have no one to translate for me, and this goes beyond what Joni has taught me so far.
Kyle doesn’t say anything as we approach the sauna, but what is there to say? “Sorry, I’m just not that into you, even though I have no problems having sex with every other woman I meet.” I yank open the door and a wave of heat hits me.
That annoying voice, the one that wants to be some twisted version of the voice of reason, reminds me that Joni is interested in me. Maybe I can hook up with him. I kick the voice in its backside. I don’t feel for Joni what I feel for Kyle. Without that passion, that desire, things won’t be any different than they were with Ian.
I sit on the top bench. Kyle sits next to me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kyle
Most teenage boys learn about the facts of life and dating from three sources: friends (not always the most reliable source at that age, in case you’re wondering), sex education class, and parents (most notably the father). I was probably the only teen in existence who had The Talk with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk while sitting at the table with their grandmother.
I can’t remember most of what she told me, mainly because I had been understandably mortified for the majority of it. But the one thing I remember is her advice to always treat a girl right. Good thing she isn’t alive to see the kind of a man I’ve become in the past year.
I sit next to Sofia on the top bench.
What the hell am I going to do? All I want to do is kiss her senseless and burrow myself deep in her. Except she’s my friend and I don’t want to fuck that up. Not while I’m in Finland. Not while I’m having fun with her. Throw in the sex and this could all fall apart.
Shit.
I trace mindless circles on Sofia’s thigh. Just touching her causes an electrical hum to vibrate along my nerves. Her gaze lowers to my left leg and the red scars forming a network across my thigh, the scars that I’ve managed to keep hidden until now, other than when I first met her in the sauna. But back then, she was so embarrassed that I was naked, she had avoided looking at my legs.
Some of the scars are thin, others thick. But one thing’s for certain, they weren’t from when I was a kid like I’d claimed. I can see it in her eyes; she realizes that, too. The accident I told her about, the one that causes my leg to stiffen when pushed too hard, it’s all a lie.
“I was in a car accident,” I tell her.
“And you prefer not talking about it,” she says more to herself than to me.
