Page 72 of Ice Rebel

“I know. I’ll think about it.” What would my father do?

While her words were sweet, they also felt like a heavy cross to bear. Neither Cole nor Samantha knew the lengths my father would go to keep me from ‘making the worst decision of my life.’

I honestly wasn’t entirely certain how I felt about Cole any longer. Not because he was a shifter. Because I liked him enough not to want him to be dragged through another layer of mud by the proud, horrible Thomas Black. Maybe if I continued to call him Roy, I’d keep the same spark in my mind and body as I’d had before. There was no reason to feel any differently about him, but I did. Maybe I was the protective one.

Were the strange new feelings because he was a shifter or simply because he was no longer just an anonymous hot guy I’d enjoyed spending time with and had savored the most incredible night of passion of my life?

At this point, I had no honest answer.

But one thing was very clear to me. I’d need to keep my distance. If for no other reason than to ensure we both had our shots at success. There were too many complications, too many connections that could spell disaster. The logical reasons all made sense, but the uglier truth was far simpler.

Our electric connection, the extreme chemistry I felt even now when he was miles way refused to be denied. If we were in the same room, there would be no self-control.

And that was unacceptable.

CHAPTER 16

Cole

Ding.

Ding. Ding.

Ding. Ding.

“Please stop,” I grumbled from under the covers. If I heard another text coming in or another ping on social media, I was going to lose my mind. I should have turned the damn ringer off after the first round I’d also ignored.

After that I think I’d passed out, which was why my head felt like the basketball after a full NBA championship.

Tossing the covers, I rolled over onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Arms splayed out, sweat rolling down both sides of my face. At some point, I’d turned on the ceiling fan, but the whirling motor and unsteady blades weren’t doing any good.

The sheets were soaked. All because of some filthy dreams, so dirty my cock ached. Maybe I’d masturbated in the middle of the night. Knowing me, the possibility was real.

All about the one woman I couldn’t have.

That had been made apparent by Jagger’s tough words. We were fucking co-captains with enough testosterone to fill an entire arena between us. If he even had an inkling I’d fucked his sister, every person in Seattle would face his wrath.

I smashed one hand on the sheets while rubbing my eyes with the other. I’d really stepped into the shit on this time. Not on purpose. But holy hell. The only saving grace of the night had been that Clementine hadn’t said a word about our tryst. Only that wasn’t her name. Her name was Chelsea Black. Jagger Black’s sister.

Maybe if I continued reminding myself of that damning fact, I would finally accept reality. Instead, my cock was fully aroused, my leg muscles tense. How long was I going to walk around having blue balls?

At least I’d seen in her eyes a desire to keep our little secret just that. A good old-fashioned secret. Why had she looked so adorable in her gym uniform? Just little khaki shorts and a thin tee shirt that had made it almost impossible to look anywhere else but at her luscious nipples poking through her lacy bra.

I’d seen the way Anthony had stared at her and had come this close to punching his lights out.

Possessive much?

And she didn’t even belong to me. Imagine if she did.

A groan escaped past my fingers while my other hand involuntarily crawled toward my aching dick. Maybe if I allowed myself a little relief, I could push her out of my mind. Today was travel day. I needed to get my shit into gear.

We had two games to win or forget about a single NHL team looking in my direction.

My chest ached even as I wrapped my fingers around the base of my shaft. What I wouldn’t give to have her mouth wrapped around my dick, her soft lips sucking while her tongue worked the same magic as during our heated kisses.

And damn if she wasn’t one of the best kissers in the freaking world.

I closed my eyes while running my sweaty palm up and down a few times. When I twisted my fingers only once, the friction was powerful enough I lifted my hips off the bed.