The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series) (16 page)

BOOK: The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series)
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Chapter 22

Clearing the puck: Shooting the puck out of your own defensive zone

Nate

“Kenley,” CiCi declares as we all settle around the table at The Mermaid Bar, “please tell me you’ve come to your senses and are no longer serious about this Nate man.”

Shit, seriously, Mom? I haven’t even opened my menu before Mom starts in about Nate.

“Mr. Nate works in the drive-through, CiCi,” Claire says knowingly. “He gave us coffee in a window.”

“Yes, he sounds charming,” CiCi says in a bored tone, picking up some hand sanitizer and squirting it into Claire’s tiny hands. “Rub, rub, Claire. We don’t want nasty germs all over you, Princess.”

“Nate’s a good guy,” I say firmly. “And we’re
dating.
Exclusively, by the way.”

“Of course you are. He needs a
cover.
That’s why he doesn’t want anything serious with you. Darling, can’t you see you’re his
smokescreen?

“Mom,” Amanda snaps as she puts Bella in a high chair. “He’s not gay, so will you stop with that? And if you quote Tumble one more time, I swear I’ll go mental.”

“I can assure you he’s
not
gay,” I say firmly.

“Hmmph,” Mom says dismissively, opening her menu.

“CiCi, did you know Mr. Nate loves Twilight Sparkle?” Claire says happily, talking about her favorite
My Little Pony.
“He loves the color purple like me!”

“Of course he does,” Cici says. Then she gravely shakes her head. “But there’s not much I can say if you are determined Nate is going to be your
Life Ruiner.

I take one look at Amanda, she looks at me, and we both burst out laughing.

“Okay, Mom, it’s time to step away from Tumblr,” Amanda commands.

And Amanda and I crack up all over again.

“Honestly, I don’t know what is so amusing to you girls,” Mom declares.

The server comes over and takes our drink orders, and at least for the moment, Nate the Gay Life Ruiner is forgotten.

“So, Kenley,” Mom says, her eyes still studying the menu, “I want to hire you for a little party I’m hosting.”

I nod. Sometimes Mom will have me do a dessert tray or table when she has her book club or friends over.

“Sure,” I say, trying to decide between pasta or salad.

“It’s for something
very special,
” Mom says in a knowing tone.

“What’s that?” I ask.

Mom closes her menu and leans across the table. She glances around before she speaks, and then drops her voice. “
A passion party.

What?

What did she just say?

“Pardon?” I ask, thinking I didn’t hear her correctly. I glance at Amanda, who has a confused look etched on her face.

“Well, it’s for all of us divorcees who don’t want to date,” Mom explains. “I found a discreet company that will come to your home and host a party with all the latest pleasure devices.”

And just as she says that, the server arrives with our drinks.

I feel my mouth fall open as my spiced iced tea is placed in front of me.

My mother is having a
sex toy
party.

A sex toy party!

“Are you
serious?
” Amanda asks, a shocked tone in her voice.

I can’t even picture it. My mom–elegant, polished, proper
mom
—is having a dildo party?

“Why not?” Mom says, taking a sip of her chardonnay. “I still have needs, you know.”

“Oh God,” I say, burying my face in my hands. I so don’t need to know these things about my mom.

“So what is Kenley going to do? Provide erotic-shaped cupcakes?” Amanda asks.

“I will not!” I cry, horrified at the thought.

“Ewotic cupcakes, yummy!” Claire says as she colors on her paper.

“See what you’ve done?” Mom snaps. “No, just
cupcakes,
sweetie. CiCi will get you one once we’ve had lunch.”

“Mmmmm. Vanilla?” Claire asks.

“Of course,” Mom reassures her, shooting me and Amanda a look. “I would have thought my own daughters would be supportive.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “We are, Mom. And I’ll do a nice dessert assortment once you give me the number of attendees.”

Amanda is texting on her phone, and my phone vibrates in my chevron tote.

I fish it out and see Amanda has texted me:

Dare you to do a penis cake

I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from laughing.

“Thank you, darling,” Mom says happily.

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with for that, Kenley,” Amanda says, baiting Mom.

“Oh, and Amanda,” Mom says, “I will schedule it for a weekend when Ryan is home so you can come. You need to keep things spicy in the bedroom if you want to keep his interest.”

Ha! Ha! Ha! Amanda looks like she’d rather watch a hundred episodes of
My Little Pony
straight than attend a pleasure party with Mom and her friends.

I text Amanda back:

Ryan might like whips, chains, and flavored body paint. Remember, CiCi says you have to keep it spicy
!

Then I hit ‘send.’ Amanda’s phone vibrates and she flips it over, and I can see she is trying her best not to crack up. Her fingers go flying across the keypad, and my phone beeps with a new text:

Maybe you could consult with me on using chocolate as a sex aid. Let me know after you try it out on Nate.

Now my face is flush with embarrassment. Mom changes the topic, but I’m stuck on the idea of melted chocolate and Nate and, good Lord, could I even handle that? I can barely manage it when his skin brushes against mine, let alone something erotic like licking chocolate off his rock-hard body . . .

Gah! I drink some tea and take a calming breath of air.
Refocus, refocus, refocus
.
I need to clear the puck,
I think, remembering a hockey term Nate taught me.

But Nate isn’t ready for that. You don’t have a conversation about baby steps one day and then licking chocolate off each other the next night. Besides, I don’t think I could survive it. Because it would be so damn
sensual
I’d probably die from self-implosion.

Yet somehow I can’t get the image out of my head.

And it will take everything I have not to suggest this idea to Nate when I see him after his game tonight.

“I’ve waited for this all day,” Nate says, bringing me into his chest the second I step inside his condo. His strong arms wrap around me, his eyes nowhere but on mine, a smile filtering across his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I say, my heart already speeding up in anticipation of his kiss.

Nate is about to kiss me when Marabou starts barking. I laugh and look down at him, and he’s looking up at me, wagging his tail.

“Nope, buddy, you’ve got to wait. Because now it’s my turn. And I’m not giving it up.” Nate lifts his hands to my face, stroking it sensually. “Now where was I?” he whispers. “Was I about to kiss you, Bae? Is that what you want from me?”

I take my index finger and brush it over my lips to tease him. “I believe your lips should be right here,” I say flirtatiously.

Nate’s eyes flicker with desire. The second I see the hunger in his eyes, my pulse singes.

“Oh, do you now?” Nate says, lifting an eyebrow and extending our flirting game. “So you want my lips,” he says, slowly grazing his thumb across my lower lip in a deliberate manner, “right here?”

Okay. I need to tell Nate,
To hell with the perfect night, let’s melt some chocolate and have at it right now
.

Now my heart is slamming against my ribs. He’s making me want this kiss so badly I can barely stand it.

“I will trade you,” I say, now taking my index finger and tracing a line down his neck, to the base of his throat. “A kiss on the lips for my lips on the base of your throat.”

Then I slide my hands up the back of his neck, bringing him closer, and I press my lips lightly against his throat, tasting him, the scent of shower and masculine cologne as I allow my tongue to dance across his olive skin.

A moan escapes his lips, and my breath catches in my throat when I hear the need in that simple sound.

“Kenley,” he murmurs. “Christ, what are you doing to me?”

I know what I want to do to him.

I want to love this man.

I want Nate, and I want him now.

I begin to unbutton his light-blue dress shirt, my lips finding his collarbones, his exposed skin. “I want you. Let me show you how much I do, Nate.”

I feel his body stiffen against mine. Suddenly his hands are in my hair, lifting my head from his chest.

I can see it in his eyes. Nate’s about to protest. I see how badly he wants this moment to be now, but I know he’s going to fight it because he doesn’t think it’s perfect.

I put my fingertips to his lips to silence him. “I know you want our first time to be everything I never had. But don’t you see it will be? It will be because it’s with you.
You
are what matters in this. It has to be
you.

I can feel his chest rise and fall quicker. Nate’s wrestling with this, being tortured by need like I am.

“I,” Nate says, his eyes burning into mine, “am going to love you like no other man can. Tonight.
Right now.

Chapter 23

Candy thermometer: A special thermometer used to check the temperature for cooking sugar syrups and caramel — Kenley

I stand before Nate, my hands shaking on his broad chest. We’re going to take this step.

Nate is going to make love to me.

He slides his hands through my hair, to my face, which he’s stroking in a slow, deliberate fashion, letting his fingers glide across my cheekbones in a whisper-like graze.

“I promise you,” Nate says, cupping my face with one hand while the other wraps over my hands on his chest, “that everything I say to you tonight, every single word that crosses my lips, is real.”

Tears fill my eyes. He’s promising me he’s not Chase. He wants me to know this means something to him.

That
I
mean something to him.

“Do you trust me?” Nate whispers. “Do you trust me to love you tonight?”

“Yes,” I answer with a shaky breath. “I trust you with
everything.

Nate lets his fingertips glide down my neck, to my collarbone, and then trailing down the edge of the short, silk kimono I’m wearing over my tank top. His fingers move oh-so-slowly down the fabric, barely brushing my skin, but yet making my body burn white hot in anticipation.

His fingers continue to trail, to explore, until he gets to the top of my jeans. Nate then moves the fabric aside and places his hands on my hips.

A gasp escapes my lips as he draws me into his body. “I want you,” Nate says sexily, his thumbs now dancing seductively across my hipbones. His lips find mine, brushing against them in a whisper kiss. I’m about to take more from him when he lifts his head. “Now I believe you owe me a kiss on the neck,” he whispers.

Oh God. If I were to use a candy thermometer to take my temperature right now, I’d be at 450 degrees.

I slide my hands to his neck, bringing him toward me, and lightly tracing my fingertips across his neck.

“I’m going to kiss you here,” I murmur against his skin, allowing myself to taste him once again.

Nate moans, and I feel his body harden against mine, his hand moving up my back, cradling me to him.

“I love the way you kiss,” he murmurs into my ear. “I love the way your lips feel on my skin.”

His facial hair brushes against my face as he nuzzles me. My breathing grows more rapid. Nate kisses my lips again, this time taking a bit more from me. When Nate takes his lips away, a cry of protest escapes my lips.

“Nate,” I whisper as I slide my hands to his face, feeling his stubble with my fingertips. “I want you so much.”

“I never thought I’d feel this way again,” Nate says, “and I can’t think of anything but you.”

He reclaims my lips with urgency. I need to feel skin on skin. I need to see his gorgeous body, his tattoos, all of him. I begin unbuttoning his shirt, and Nate’s tongue demands more of me, frantic, urgent, seeking.

Nate slides his hands underneath my kimono, inching up my back, his lips scorching against mine as his strong hands move over my shoulders and ease the kimono off, letting it fall to the floor.

I go back to his dress shirt, working the buttons, and now it’s open, just hanging from his chiseled body. He’s so beautiful, and this body—this perfect, sculpted, warrior body—is going to love me tonight.

I move my hands over his chest and his abs. Then I gently take my hand and lightly run it up the tattooed sleeve arm, the one that was designed from a broken heart. I lift my eyes up to his, and I don’t see pain in those espresso-colored eyes.

All I see is desire.

For me.

I realize what a leap he’s taking tonight. To put his heart in a position to be hurt again. I wrap my fingers around his hand, and I gently turn his tattooed arm over. I place my lips on the inside of his wrist, delicately kissing him in a spot that once reminded him never to be vulnerable again.

I’ll never break your heart
, I tell him with my kiss.
If you let me have it, Nate, I’ll protect it forever.

A breath escapes Nate’s lips as I kiss him there. I move my mouth up his muscled arm, desire burning through me with each taste I have of him.

Nate lifts my head. His lips are on mine, passionately kissing me. His hands are tangling in my hair, skimming my waist, and now he’s pulling me back with him, toward the bedroom.

“Everything,” Nate murmurs against my lips, “about you is so sexy.” He kisses me again. “Your touch, your skin, your confidence.” Then he kisses me hard on the mouth. “I want you. I have to have you. All of you.”

We’re all over each other, our bodies entangled, and I’ve never dreamed I could want a man as much as I want Nate.

We reach his bedroom, stopping right at the edge of his bed.

Nate slides his hands to the bottom of my tank top, lifting it off. My heart is beating out of my chest now. Nate then skims his fingers over the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them, and putting his hands over my hips.

I gasp aloud from feeling his fingertips dance below the fabric, teasing me by touching the top of my panties.

I wind my arms around his neck. I’m starting to tremble. Nate slides his fingers down, slowly easing my jeans off, over my hips, and tracing the edges of my silk panties with his fingertips.

“Nate,” I whisper, feeling desire building to something I have never experienced before. “What are you doing to me?”

“You’re so gorgeous,” Nate murmurs, sliding my jeans down, his hands skimming over my legs.

I step out of my jeans, standing before Nate in sheer black silk panties and a bra. I reach for Nate, my fingertips grasping his belt buckle. I want to undress him now. A groan of desire escapes his lips while I undo his belt, my fingertips torturing him as I run them along his boxer-briefs. I tug his jeans off, and then we’re together, barely clothed, about to make love for the first time.

Nate brings me to him, now skin on skin, his hands in my hair, his lips gently showering my face with kisses. I’m shaking, I’m hot, and I feel desired and cared for at the same time.

“Do I need a condom?” he whispers in the darkness.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

Nate lowers me onto the bed, his hard body entangling with mine. He reaches around and unhooks my bra, easing it off, and I gasp aloud at the sensation of his warm skin against my breasts.

“I want you,” I beg, sliding my hands up to his face, feeling his stubble with my hands, pulling his face toward mine. “I have never wanted a moment more than this.”

We’re inches apart. I’m desperate for Nate to kiss me, to take me, to love me.

“I want you to know,” Nate whispers in the darkness, “before I make love to you, that you are
beautiful
. I know men have said that to you endlessly, but I mean all of you, from the inside out. Your passion and confidence make you beautiful. Your kindness makes you beautiful. Your intelligence makes you beautiful.”

Tears fill my eyes. I hold his face in my hands. This is what he meant when he said to believe him. Nate is speaking from his heart, and these words are his truth.

And my truth is that I love him.

“Make love to me,” I say to him, emotion overtaking me. “Give me my first time, Nate. Show me what this is supposed to be.”

Nate kisses me, his mouth taking what he’s wanted all night. I know I’m about to make love for the first time.

With the man I love.

“Look at us,” Nate says softly. “Could this be any more perfect?”

I smile happily. We’re each propped up on our elbows, facing each other in bed as the sun comes up over downtown Dallas, with Marabou curled in between us, fast asleep.

“No,” I say. “It couldn’t be. This is right.”

After making love all night with Nate, I know that is
our
truth.

This—
us
—is right. And making love to Nate was a completely new experience for me. It was passionate and very, very,
sensual.
Yet with Nate, he instinctively knew when to be gentle and sweet when we made love. He was protective of me and of what I needed emotionally from him.

And he gave me
everything,
from sexual pleasure I’ve never known to emotions I didn’t know were possible.

I love you so, so much, Nate
.
You’re everything to me. And I know, in time, I can be everything to you, too.

“I wish I didn’t have to practice this morning,” Nate says, his eyes soft with emotion. “I’d rather stay in bed with you all day. I want to be with you, Bae.”

I reach over and stroke the side of his face, relishing the feel of his stubble against my fingertips.

“I know, me too,” I say honestly. “I want to be with you, too.”

“I want to make love to you this morning.”

My body immediately responds to his words, but I decide to tease him a bit first.

“Aren’t you tired?” I ask, grinning.

“Why? We only did it twice last night.” I laugh, and he does, too.

“What do you have going on today?” Nate asks.

“I have to do some recipe testing,” I say. “And place some orders, but that’s it. No classes or consultations today.”

“You can work here, in my kitchen, if you want,” he offers. “I have more space than you do back at your place. Then I can make us lunch when I get home.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as he invites me to stay. “I’ll have to run home and get my baking supplies, but that sounds good.”

“What are you testing, anyway?” Nate asks, wrapping his hand around mine and bringing it to his lips, kissing it gently.

Shit. Do I really even want to tell Nate what I’m working on?

“Um, stuff for CiCi,” I say simply.

Nate lifts an eyebrow. “Your face tells me there’s more to this.”

I sigh. “Okay, but you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t promise that
at all.

His eyes are dancing, and despite my embarrassment, I can’t resist him.

“Fine. I’m working on passion-themed desserts for a party she’s hosting.”


Passion
themed?” Nate says, a quizzical look passing over his face. “I thought you said she was off men.”

I want to throw the cover over my head before telling him the rest of this.

“She is. But she’s having a party for her friends. A passion party.”

“What?”

“My mother is having a sex toy party,” I blurt out.

Nate studies me for a moment as he takes in my words. Then he roars with laughter, so loudly that Marabou pops his head up.

“No. Just no. You have to do this for your
mom?

“Yes. Just yes,” I quip. “So I have to think of sensual desserts for the menu.”

Nate lets go of my hand and trails his fingers from my shoulder to my arm, and then back up again. “So what are you thinking?”

“Um,” I say, trying to focus when I’m distracted by his touch, “First I’ll have my go-to baker test some passion fruit dark chocolate cupcakes.”

“Nice. What else?”

“I’m going to make champagne truffles,” I say. “Chocolate fondue with fruit. And I know she’s not thinking of this, but some of her guests will be married or in relationships . So I’m thinking about doing something sexy with chocolate, like a chocolate bath mix or chocolate body paint, in a take-home bag. And that’s what I need to test today.”

Nate’s eyes flicker sexily. “So you haven’t tried any of these items before? Like chocolate body paint?”

My face begins to burn. “Uh, no. Have you?”

“No. But today is a test day, right?”

“Yes.”

Nate reaches over and scoops up Marabou, and he gently places him on the floor. Then he rolls back to me, pulling me into his warm body. Desire immediately ignites when his lips find mine in a slow kiss.

“I think,” Nate murmurs, his hand skimming down over the University of Minnesota hockey T-shirt he’s given me to wear, “we’ll test these ideas tonight.”

My pulse skyrockets. My sexy dreams of chocolate with Nate are going to become a reality.

“So you’ll take a chocolate bath?” I ask flirtatiously.

“Only with you in it.”

I don’t know if I can survive the sexiness that is coming my way this evening.

Nate kisses me again, and I slide my hands up to the back of his neck, kissing him passionately on the mouth.

“Mmm,” I murmur against his lips. “I like that idea.”

“So do I.”

We kiss again, and as Nate’s fingers skim over the waistband of my panties, I have a feeling Nate might be rushing out the door to make practice on time this morning.

However, there will be no rushing tonight when I plan a sensual, romantic evening for the two of us.

And I can’t wait to flip the table and give Nate a night like he’s never had tonight.

BOOK: The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series)
12.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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