Page 90 of Ice Rebel

“Kyle. Casper. Final performance. Make it count.” Jasper was already moving on, which was fine by me.

While I was supposed to remain close for the final curtain call, I flew toward the back corridor, hoping that’s where Roy had gone.

I didn’t see him at first, only the people from the theater who were going about doing their jobs. I was beginning to think he’d left, disappointed as the anticipation slowly began to fade into something troubling when a series of electric pulses skittered through me.

Stopping short, I gripped the edge of a door, taking several deep breaths because I needed to. The sensations were stronger than I’d experienced before forcing me to close my legs. Wetness formed in my core while the scent of my desire wafted into my nostrils.

He was here. He was close.

I slowly turned around, noticing his grin was lopsided, as if he’d done something wrong. In his hands were daisies. A bundle of colorful daisies. As he walked closer, I found myself doing the same.

By the point he was only a couple of feet away, he noticed I was staring at the flowers. “The flower shops were closed. We got back to town too late.”

“They’re beautiful. How did you know they were my favorite?”

The grin became more sensual. “Clementine strikes me as a down-to-earth girl.” He swaggered closer, his eyes lighting up. They were shimmering in spun gold.

“I don’t know about that.” I took a few steps closer. A part of me continued to believe this was a bad idea, but the rest?

When he was close enough, I fisted his shirt, dragging him toward the small dressing room. He was the one who kicked the door shut, barely able to find a place to put the flowers before he pushed me back against the dressing table, bending me over only a split second before he captured my lips. There was no need to talk, at least not right now. The hunger was too explosive, a need that transcended all common sense.

He was more aggressive than ever before, immediately thrusting his tongue inside. The taste of him was way too sweet, the strong hint of peppermint as delicious as the way he looked.

Rugged and perfect. Maybe I was a bit jaded, but as the kiss took on a life of its own, I rolled my hands over his shoulders. The weight of his body crushing mine was spectacular, creating even more wetness between my legs. The crotch of my poor leotards would soon be soaked.

The way he dominated my tongue reminded me just how possessive he was. The moment and the dark cravings were delicious. Roy slipped his arm around me, sliding his hand under my bottom. With a savage jerk, he pulled me even closer until I was able to feel the entirety of his raging desire.

If we weren’t careful, we’d soon rip each other’s clothes off. Imagine how that would look to those bitches. I was almost ready to encourage bad behavior. With his other hand, he cupped the side of my face. The second he pulled his lips free, we both moaned. Or maybe he growled instead.

Whatever the case, I was lightheaded, my heart thudding. As inappropriate as it seemed, all the stories about shifters rushed into my mind. How strong they were. How intense their personalities, which I certainly knew to be true. I wondered if what I’d read was true, that their senses were almost superhuman.

I had a feeling at some point soon I’d find out.

Using his thumb, he tilted my head back and dragged his tongue along my jaw, taking his time tracing my lips.

“I fucking missed you,” he muttered in his deep, gravelly voice.

“Me too.” I squeezed my hand between us, kneading his chest muscles while I crawled my fingers down further. There was nothing I wanted more than to have his cock buried deep inside. The ache in my pussy was increasing.

Beads of perspiration had already formed across my upper lip. The need for him was increasing, becoming something almost obsessive. A compulsion. I was shocked how powerful the draw to him was, so much more than before. What was that saying about absence making the heart grow fonder? At this point, it was turning need into something highly primal in nature.

We were both panting at an equal rate, consumed by the other.

And of course as luck would have it, the door was thrown open. Not only were there recognizable voices in Tori and Sienna, but also someone trying to keep people from coming inside.

“You can’t go into the dressing rooms. Those are for the dancers.” One of the stagehands seemed frantic.

The spell between the two of us was broken, his head lifting until he was able to look in the attached mirror. “Shit,” he grumbled and slowly brought me to a standing position, but not before lifting an eyebrow in a warning.

“Oh, my God. Cole Kendrick!” Tori’s squeal was shrill until she realized who was practically lying underneath the huge, muscular man.

Little ole me.

As soon as he wasn’t blocking my view, I was almost pushed into horrified laughter. I knew a reporter when I saw one, including the asshole who’d written the article about us being engaged.

Grant Michaels has pushed his way inside, grinning. But he wasn’t the one to worry about. There were one too many cameras catching a moment of the passion I’d shared with Roy.

“Cole. Can I ask a few questions? How does it feel to be engaged?”