Sugar and Ice - RJ Scott Page 0,24

to just being his teammate. “Yes, we should…you should wash your hands.”

“Tell me to move,” he whispered. “Give me permission.”

Oh. Fuck. He’d found me out all too fast.

“Go wash up, then we will talk.” I ran my thumb along his lower lip and felt him tremble. I stole one final kiss before moving away to give him room to right himself. I tucked and zipped, my eyes never leaving Tate’s while he did the same.

“Bathroom?” he asked, his voice soft and appealing. How had he read me so quickly? And why was I now unable to picture a tomorrow that wasn’t wrapped up in the taste of him on my tongue and the subtle dip of his head as we played with this new dynamic.

“By the front door is a powder room. Go wash up.” I pushed the door of the fridge shut. Color lit his cheeks. “Come back and we’ll eat and talk.” He nodded, and he seemed unable or unsure of what to say or how. I gave him a smile. “Go, clean up. We’ll work this all out somehow. Go now, Tate.”

He shuffled off, his gait a little off-kilter. Which was exactly how my thoughts, hell, my whole world, now were.

Chapter Seven

Tate

The powder room had a mirror over the basin, and as I washed my hands I stared at my reflection and wondered why I didn’t appear to be any different. Surely what I’d just done, the connection, the lust, would have made me change outwardly. I could see the signs of Vlad’s touch on me, dark bruises near my throat, my hair sticking up this way and that, and my skin reddened from stubble, but it wasn’t in the way I looked that made me feel as if my world had been rocked.

I still felt unsteady on my feet.

The way he’d told me to leave my hands where they were, the hardness of the refrigerator behind me, Vlad on his knees sucking me down, then the heat of him spilling over my hand. It was sensory overload, and I gripped the basin. I’d never experienced an orgasm that intense, had never been spoken to in that way.

Perfect Tate Collins with his manners, and his clean cut All-American looks, squeaky clean, nice to everyone? That wasn’t who I felt inside right now. Inside, I was lust and need and raw with emotions.

“You okay?” Vlad asked softly from outside the door. I don’t even know how long I’d been staring at myself checking for differences, but the water was still running and the mirror was fogging up. It was as if the old Tate was being misted over, and maybe this new Tate, the one tarnished by Lacey and her shit was now free to do what he wanted. He could still be the guy he was inside, caring, a good friend, polite to everyone, working for charity, playing good hockey, but maybe he could allow this other side of him free now.

If Vlad even wanted to do this again.

“Tate?” Vlad murmured, and I heard a noise, like maybe he was resting his forehead on the door. I was fucking this up staying in here like a coward, when I wanted to be out there with Vlad, getting to know him better, kissing, maybe taking it further, maybe…

Stop thinking and get the hell out of the bathroom.

I opened the door, cautiously, in case Vlad was leaning on it, but he’d moved away and was leaning on the wall opposite.

“I can take you home,” he said, his hands in his pockets, not moving an inch, and I saw in an instant what my messing around in the bathroom had caused. Doubt. So much doubt. He probably thought I regretted what we’d done.

“No, I—”

“As your captain I can tell you what to do on the ice, but in here, when it’s us, I would ask that you don’t tell people about me… I have family to consider, and I know you’re a good man, but—”

I launched myself at him, cut off his words with a messy, uncoordinated kiss, and nearly climbed him like a freaking tree. He grabbed me and held me steady as we slid down the wall and I straddled his lap. He was in shock, his eyes wide, and we stared at each other for the longest time.

“I would never tell anyone—”

“I’m sorry if I—”

We talked over each other, and with my polite gene I smiled, “You first.”

“I’m sorry if I implied you would ever—”

I kissed him