Home Ice (12 page)

Dylan pulled just enough to send her flying over his head. She yelped like a puppy and had just enough presence of mind to plug her nose before impact. Aside from the shock, it was surprisingly pleasant. The cool water caressed her warm skin as she kicked to the surface and blinked the droplets from her eyes.

Dylan laughed from the pool’s edge, his elbows resting on the rim as he grinned at her. “And what did you learn?”

Just enough courage and boldness bubbled up to switch off her filter. “That it’s probably okay if I do this.” She swam up, held onto his sides for leverage, and kissed him. His lips were warm and wet and yielding. He kissed her back and hauled her flush against him. Any delusions that they were
just
friends sizzled away like a mirage in the Vegas desert. It wasn’t that she’d been previously unaware of his physical attributes, but she had a whole new appreciation for them now. His hard chest, strong legs, skilled hands. And in that moment, she knew. He’d been holding back. The passion he showed now had been there for a while. But he’d held back until she felt it, too. Showed that she wanted it.

Breathless, she leaned back just enough so they were still nose to nose, water dripping from their faces. “What would you say about taking this lesson somewhere private?”

“I’d say class is in session.”

Lori’s apartment

After drying off with Picnic’s candy stripe towels, she gave him directions to her apartment, but they didn’t speak other than that. That might have filled her with doubt had it not been for his hand on hers the whole way home and the way he traced little circles on her skin with his thumb. Silent reassurance that he hadn’t changed his mind.

She fumbled with her keys outside her door to find the right one. There were only three. How could it be so confusing? Finally, one turned in the lock, and she led them inside. There was no mess to be embarrassed of, because she only really used the place to eat and sleep. Even if she had spent more time there, her perfectionistic nature would have prevented clutter. Score one for OCD.

Dylan closed the door behind him, and she faced him, hesitating, suddenly shy and unsure of how to proceed. God, how long had it been? Years. “Um, can I get you anything to drink?”
Seriously? That’s the best I can do? How’d he ever resist me this long?

He held out his hands, and she stepped forward to take them. “We don’t have to do this. We can just hang out. I’m totally—”

That was enough of that. She rocked up on her toes and kissed him quiet, leaning into his warm, solid, and still slightly damp body. At her encouragement, his hands found the small of her back and pulled her closer before they started wandering. She linked her arms around his neck, and he picked her up. Without breaking from the kiss, she waved behind them to the left.

With minor stumbling and no furniture collisions, he found her bedroom and laid her down slowly. Then he peeled off his T-shirt and undid his shorts before pausing. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. A man with a body that perfect should
not
be bashful, but it was almost like he was nervous about what she’d think. She stood and slipped out of her own T-shirt then shimmied her shorts down over her hips and kicked them off. In nothing but her bra and underwear, almost delirious with anticipation, she set her hands over his, met his eyes, and helped him slide the board shorts the rest of the way.

She wanted to look, was tempted, but then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her so gently, so tenderly, she almost cried. Where did
that
come from? Tears were so not sexy. He gradually turned the heat up, taking his time, and it was driving her crazy. She unhooked her bra and wiggled it off. His bare chest against hers felt incredible. The sensation seemed magnified, almost too much to take, and she swayed into him.

His breathing hitched, and his muscles tightened, but he didn’t speed up his delicate exploration of her body or hot conquest of her mouth. Even so, she felt him hard and ready against her stomach. Using every ounce of strength she had left, she pushed him back and pointed to the bed. “Wait there?”

A little confused and his eyes still clouded with passion, Dylan sat. She darted into the bathroom and took a small box out of her medicine cabinet. It hadn’t been touched since she’d bought it. Hard to say why she’d gotten them. It wasn’t like she’d had a life. Until now. Score two for OCD. She opened it and took one packet back into the bedroom.

An understanding smile from Dylan made her knees go weak again, and she sat beside him to open the packet. He was ready to take the condom, but she changed her mind and slid it on for him. The look of surprise and raw pleasure on his face was almost as good as the way he had to fight to stay still until she finished. Her underwear was the last barrier to go, and then they were skin-to-skin, completely exposed in every way possible.

It wasn’t her first time, but after so long, it might as well have been. Everything was new again, and because Dylan was Dylan, different. Better. Sweeter. He was so careful with her, and if she hadn’t known better, it felt like his first time, too. Not that he didn’t know what he was doing. He definitely did. But he savored every second and made it last.

They moved together fluidly, in sync, and in tune, but it wasn’t enough. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched against him. He groaned, his whole body firm, like he was trying to hold back with everything he had. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and she whispered, “Please” against his lips.

That was all it took, and he finally let go, moving harder, faster, until his head dipped forward to touch hers and he gasped. To see and feel him give in to desire was so hot, she followed him right after, crying out his name and holding on to him like a life raft as she slowly came back to Earth.

When her heartbeat slowed and the aftershocks of pleasure began to subside, she slid her hands along his sides and over his back, looking up into his deep, dark eyes that stared back with an intensity that made her squirm. “That was …”

“If you find a word for it, let me know. I can’t think of anything good enough.”

She laughed, and the tension broke. He carefully rolled off her and stretched out on his side but didn’t move father than that. He draped a warm, heavy arm over her belly and kissed her shoulder. She smoothed a few crazy strands of hair from his forehead. “What took us so long?”

“I didn’t want to risk pushing you away. You’ve sort of become my best friend. I love Mad and all, but this is different. No one gets me like you. No one has ever gotten me like you. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

“And now?”

“Now … I know you’re interested in more, too. You are, right?”

Just when it seemed like he couldn’t possibly be cuter, he’d go and say something like that. “Um, yeah. I’m interested.” She tried not to smile too hard and embarrass him for the obvious question.

“Okay, good.”

“So, what happens now?”

“Now I drive you back to the arena to get your car, and maybe I see you at your show tonight?”

It wasn’t a philosophical answer, but that was good. She wasn’t really ready to go there yet. “I’d like that.”

Vaughn Manor

Autopilot was a very good thing. There was no other explanation for how Dylan got from the arena to Madden’s house, because he didn’t remember the drive. He had the afternoon on repeat, often running it in slow motion through his mind. Waiting had been worth it. Not that he ever doubted it would be. And it’s not like he’d planned on anything happening other than lunch. Lori had taken him completely by surprise.

He just hoped she didn’t regret it.

He went in through the garage and found Madden in the kitchen as usual. Dylan kept his eyes down and started for the hallway to the main foyer and the stairs, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Madden dropped his sandwich on the plate he’d been hovering over and pushed back from his stool at the island. “Dude, you’ve been avoiding me for—hold up.” He tilted his head to the side and squinted. “You closed the deal.” He broke out in a shit-eating grin and walked over to clap Dylan on the shoulders. “You closed the deal!”

“What are you talking about?” Why even bother denying the truth to Mad? The guy had a sixth sense about these things. But still, how could he
know
?

“You know what I’m talking about. Good for you, man. So I guess you patched things up …?” There was a silent apology in there and a twinge of hope that their friendship was still intact. Madden made it so hard to hold on to the irrational anger.

“Yes, we patched things up, no thanks to your girlfriend. And I’m not saying
how
the patching happened.”

“You don’t have to. It’s in that stupid smile that says you have Cupid’s arrow in your ass.”

It was seriously starting to get annoying how easily everyone read him. He’d have to work on his poker face.

“Seriously, though. I’m really sorry about what happened with Saralynn. She gets these ideas and just runs with them. She’s one of those easier-to-ask-forgiveness-than-permission people. And most of the time I love that about her. She accomplishes some impressive things with her lack of inhibition, but occasionally there can be some blowback. She really did think she was helping.”

“Yeah … I believe that.” And he did. No matter how it had turned out, Saralynn always did what she thought was best for the team. That was her job, and she took it seriously. She was a good person to have in your corner. As long as she was totally clear on what being in your corner meant.

“We okay?”

“Yeah, man. We’re good.”

“You’re very good from the way you walked in here. I won’t ask for details, but you’re happy?”

“Happiest I’ve been since Tricia.”

“That’s awesome.”

“How are you and Troublemaker?”

Madden grinned. “You gotta keep this under wraps … but I think I’m going to pop the question.”

“Wow. Are you serious?” It wasn’t a complete shock. They’d been dating for two years. Still, neither one had really been the commitment type. Dylan’d had a front row seat for the transformation. It was kind of impressive to see two chronically single people turn into an old married couple without actually being married or old.

“Yes. I’m ready. And I think she might be, too. Enough time has passed that I’m pretty sure she won’t bolt. Eighty percent sure. I just have to figure out how to do it. She’s had five past proposals, and those obviously didn’t take.”

“
Five
?”

Madden shrugged. “College. At least, that’s how she explained it. She likes my cooking. Maybe I’ll make a big, romantic dinner.”

“If there’s one talent you have other than talking, it’s cooking. Between the two, you should be able to convince her. If she doesn’t ask you first.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Dude. You just said it. She gets something in her head, there’s no inhibition. She’s definitely the type who would ask if she wanted to.”

“Great. And I was worried about sizing a ring.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. Ask, then take her to pick it out. Not because I think she might say no, but because she wants what she wants, and it’s easier to stay out of her way.” Dylan slapped Madden on the shoulder and headed for the stairs.

“Good advice. Thanks, man!”

Dylan waved even though Mad couldn’t see it, and headed for the shower. Suddenly, his own relationship seemed simple compared to the mess Madden was about to wade into. If the two of them did manage to get engaged—whoever asked whom—Dylan would need to find a new place. He’d been considering it anyway. Saralynn was there so much she basically lived with them. And three was definitely a crowd, even in a mansion the size of Caesar’s Palace. But the possible engagement put a timeline on it. Oh well. An ulcer for another day. Tonight, all he wanted to think about was Lori.

Las Vegas Arena

Solo this time, Dylan pulled a plain black ball cap down over his eyes and managed to go unrecognized in the crowd. He made sure to take his seat just after the show started and the main lights were down. Spotlights of all different colors danced on the ice, highlighting different skaters. No one paid him any attention. God, it was a relief. Not that he’d be embarrassed to be seen at the show or be called out as Lori’s boyfriend. The latter actually made him smile.

No, after weeks of media abuse for his slump, it was just nice to not have anyone looking at him. The routine was the same as the first time he’d seen the show. It must make it easier on the performers, and with the high turnover of tourists in the city, no one would mind. No matter what exploded or how much confetti rained, Lori was the brightest thing out there. And not just because of her pink peacock costume. If she still had any doubts or hesitations about her own ability, no one would know from the way she skated. Graceful. Powerful. She owned the audience, him included. Him especially.

Just before the lights went up for intermission, he ducked out and got lost in the river of people on the main concourse. The Sinners’ team shop was open. Through the glass walls, he saw jerseys with his name. It was still a surreal experience no matter how long he’d been in the league. He kept walking until the show music drifted into the halls, and then he found his seat again.

The second half tried to out-do the first with more jumps, more glitter, more … everything. But nothing could compete with Lori for his attention. Anticipation built to see her again, one-on-one. Even if they just went for shakes and didn’t say a word or do anything else. She recharged him.

The show was wrapping up with the last number. If he remembered right, Bradley picked her up and tossed her into a spin jump. Dylan ground his teeth at the thought of another man’s hands on her, especially this guy. But she could handle herself. No doubt about that. Just a few more minutes. Bradley lifted her, swung around, and threw her into the jump, but right before he let go, his skate slipped. Just a fraction, but it was enough to alter Lori’s course. She spun, tried to complete the trick, but when she landed, her ankle bent inward, and she fell.