Page 74 of Heat It Up (Off the Ice)
Maija talks in Finnish to the girl before she says to us, “This is my niece, Emilia. My nephew is playing hockey with his friends.” She nods at the teens as a tall, gangly fourteen-year-old heads our way. His eyes widen and he speaks rapid Finnish to Kyle.
Before Kyle can respond, Maija replies to whatever the boy just said. He nods and says to Kyle in halted English, “Would you like…like to play with us?”
The life that jumps back into Kyle’s eyes is breathtaking. “I’d love to.”
While he plays street hockey with the boys, I take out my camera and shoot dozens of pictures. The joy on his face warms me more than the warmest day ever could. The game pauses a few times while he gives them pointers. The boys eagerly ask questions and one of the older ones appears to translate. Otherwise, Kyle mimes what is lost in translation.
As I take pictures, Maija and I talk about our job and the funnier things that have happened. Like Maija “accidentally” spilling dirty water on the shoes of the jerks who had been harassing me. Fortunately, they haven’t bothered me again since the day Kyle confronted them. Emilia watches my camera with great interest, and I show her how to use it. She shoots a picture of her brother that’s pretty good, even if she did tilt the camera so it looks like he’s falling over. It adds to the artistry.
Kyle saunters up to us and holds out his hand to me. “Your turn. I’m gonna show you the finer points of street hockey.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not very good at it.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Have you tried it before?”
“Um, well, no.”
“Then you can’t know if you’re not good at it.”
I snort. “Trust me, I know. I suck at all team sports. I’m better at sports like running and Nordic skiing.”
He beckons me forward with his finger. With a resigned sigh, I hand my camera to Maija and walk with him to join the boys. One of them hands me a hockey stick and Kyle points to where he wants me to stand. I’ve seen enough ice hockey games with Claire in high school to know how to play. Kind of. At least I don’t have to worry about slipping on the ice and landing on my butt. Running around is much more my style, and I can concentrate on stealing the ball away from the opposite team. I succeed a few times, but end up passing the ball to my teammates. The other team knows I’m beyond the weakest link. They don’t even have to try very hard to steal the ball from me. It goes to them by its own free will.
I do, though, manage to get it in front of the net at one point and shoot the ball, without really aiming it at anything. I was just attempting to keep the ball away from the teen who was determined to steal it from me. I don’t know if his goalie felt sorry for me or had been overly confident the ball wouldn’t go anywhere near the net. All I know is the ball somehow finds its way in and I score.
Shock at what happened rams into me and I stand there, gawking at the net and the ball. It’s not until Kyle sweeps me up in his arms and swings me around that I snap out of it.
“Did you see that?” I say. “I scored!”
He laughs. “You did. You’re a natural.” He’s kidding but I don’t care. I. Got. A. Freakin’. Goal.
I fling my arms around his neck and kiss him hard. He lifts me and my legs hitch around his waist. The adrenalin flowing through me turns me into a mess. The way our bodies touch isn’t helping any either. Maybe it’s the exhilaration of the moment, but I’m incredibly turned on.
I pull away slightly. “Are hockey players usually this horny after they score?”
He grins, barely suppressing a laugh, and I suddenly realize what I said. I giggle, my unexpected success making me giddy.
At the mocking groans from the teens, Kyle releases me. He doesn’t let go of me right away. We just stand here for a minute or two, absorbing each other with our gaze, my arms still around his neck.
Giving up on us, the boys resume their game and play around us. Kyle threads his fingers with mine and we return to Maija. She hands me my camera and after we say our goodbyes to her and her niece, we head to Kyle’s building.
“I need to take a shower,” he says after we step into the quiet apartment. He flashes me one of his trademarked sexy smiles. “You wanna join me?”
I’m about to say no, but a voice whispers in my head,Think of it as part of the ‘new you’ experience.
And shower it is.
Kyle grabs a change of clothes and condoms from his bedroom and leads me into the bathroom. He turns on the shower while I stand next to the door, uncertain what to do. He straightens and steps closer to me before whipping his t-shirt off over his head. It lands on the floor. I don’t have a chance to add my clothes to the pile. Kyle slowly bunches the hem of my t-shirt up my stomach, his fingers brushing against my skin. My supersensitive skin that craves his touch.
My t-shirt joins his soon after. It’s barely settled on the ground before Kyle unfastens my bra in the front and slips his hands between the soft cotton and my skin. He lightly squeezes my breasts, then his thumbs scrape against my nipples.
I whimper, unable to hold back the sound even if I wanted to. Just the thought of him claiming me in the shower is enough to push me to the ledge—and we aren’t even in the shower yet.
He must have sensed it because my bra is quickly removed and before I know it, he has peeled my shorts and panties off. I step out of them and kick them to the side. He kneels and kisses the skin next to my belly button, then nips it between his teeth. I suck in a sharp breath, barely heard over the water hammering against the bathtub.
He stands and his gaze worships me in a way no guy has before. I’m not sure what it means, given our arrangement. All I know is that I don’t want it to end.
Unlike Kyle, who’s still wearing his jeans, the only thing I have on is my swan pendant. He fingers it for a moment, studying it even though he’s never seen the charm before, but at the same time recognition and wonder fill his eyes.
