Page 50 of Ice Rebel

“Oh, you are amazing.” The moment she cinched her eyes closed, I slowed the pace to enjoy the moment for a little while longer. But I knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t because her body was responding just the way I’d wanted.

When her pussy clenched again, I returned to a slow and steady rhythm all while she was clawing my back. Within seconds, she was panting. The sound could rival that of my wolf on the hunt.

Clementine threw one arm over her head while grinding her hips. Her moans were loud and proud and I was here for it. Every sound she made.

“Oh. Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes. Oh, Roy. Roy. Roy!”

Maybe the name would forever haunt me, but seeing her face, the way her long lashes skimmed across her cheeks meant everything. I’d never experienced a woman in the throes of passion who I could tell wasn’t cheating herself out of the moment.

She was gushing from ecstasy and there was nothing sexier than a woman letting go.

That was all I could take. Whether it was hearing my fake name on her lips or not, I was pushed to the maximum of self-control.

Gone. Done. Maybe never able to find it again.

I closed my eyes and as I finally released, I wondered how long I’d be able to go without doing this again.

But not just with anyone.

With her.

CHAPTER 12

Cole

“What’s up, Dad?” I stood outside the arena, eager to get in some alone time on the ice before the entire team arrived. Apparently, at least according to an email I got in the middle of the night from Coach Stryker, I needed work on pivots and transitions. I thought I did a nice job of flipping from forward to backward skating while maintaining speed.

Evidently not.

“Helluva game the other night. I wish I’d been there.”

“Thanks. Things went a little haywire.”

“You have Kendrick blood in you, boy. Of course they did. Did you catch Channel 7 this morning?”

I could only imagine the heavy recap of the game. Including the fight. “Sorry. I missed it.” In hearing the excitement in my father’s voice, I felt a twinge of guilt. While he’d never, not once, tried to push his sons into playing hockey instead of anything else we wanted to do, I still felt I owed him everything. He’d given up his chance at a rebound back to his career playing hockey to raise a family, time spent with the kids traveling to whatever ice rink to get in practice.

Forgoing vacations so we could afford all the fees. I’d had hopes of making so much money I purchased the family sawmill so my parents could take the honeymoon to Europe they’d put off a dozen times.

I was having doubts that would ever happen. “I hate to rush you, Pops, but I need the extra practice.”

“Of course. I just wanted to let you know dinner is off this Sunday.” Once upon a time, including until when my brothers had turned pro, we’d had basically a required Sunday dinner with the family. That had started when we were kids, an opportunity for our parents to double check we weren’t getting into any mischief.

Now, with the kids getting older, all living on their own and with two of the four children finding their mates, the ‘rents had decided to try to limit it to one a month. Even that hadn’t worked out so well, at least not during hockey season.

“Sorry to hear that, Pops, but I couldn’t have made it anyway. I’ll be heading back from Reno and I won’t know what time we’re getting in.”

“A game or gambling?”

“You know I’m the unluckiest man in the world.” Which was true. If I stepped foot in a casino, anyone within twenty yards would lose. Flat out. Badly.

“Well, that’s good to hear, son. You don’t need to mess up your chances.” Great. Now everyone was starting to worry about whether I made the pros or not.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I huffed and grabbed my bag, heading toward the employees’ door. There was something peaceful about having the time on the ice by myself. It usually cleared my head.

“Come on, son. You’re not getting any younger and I know what it means to you. Good luck on the game.”

“Is something wrong with you or Mom?”