Page 27 of Flirty Pucking Wolf
We stand there, looking at each other while kids zoom around laughing, the swoosh of their skate blades almost sounding like brushing a snare drum. The indistinct murmurs of their parents’ conversations create a base-level hum that’s punctuated by whistle blows starting and stopping drills. There’s a rhythm and cadence to it that would be cool to sample into a track for a dance. I’ll have to record it the next time I’m here and talk to the show’s band leader to see if it’s something we can use.
Slow grins spread across our faces as if we choreographed it. “See you in an hour?” I ask.
“Sooner if I can manage it,” Trevor says with a wink.
“Shall I order dinner?”
His chuckle is low, and it makes my belly do funny things that I can’t blame for the boozy cocoa.
“We can order…after,” he says.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and other parts. Nodding, I turn and sashay away, knowing his eyes are on me.
As I leave The Nest and brave the icy wind blowing off the Atlantic to cross the Boardwalk to Devil’s Den, I wonder if I should order sandwiches or something. With what I have in mind, there may not be an after. We may not end up getting any sleep at all once we’re in a bed together again. I don’t want to waste the night sleeping.
* * *
Jab. Jab. Jabbity jab jab. I keep pressing the button on the elevator like that will make it arrive faster. I'm eager to get to my hotel room so I can quickly pack and be free to enjoy the night with Trevor. When the door slides open, I step back quickly to allow the passengers off and then enter the car. Thankfully, I'm the only one on board, so I get to my floor quickly. Letting myself into the suite, I call down to order a selection of sandwiches along with a cheese plate and wine, so we can graze during the evening and not leave the room. Then, I hurriedly pack the essentials for our trip. If I forget anything, I'm sure I can either borrow it from Miranda or buy it at a local store.
I don't know whether to change into something sexier or stay as I am. Take a shower? I hate being uncertain. Before I can dither any further, there's a knock on my door. Rushing over, I open it to find Trevor standing there gorgeously rumpled, like he jumped off the ice and rushed over here. Which I guess he did. Because a quick glance shows I only left the rink thirty minutes ago.
“Hey,” he says. stepping toward me.
“Hey, yourself,” I respond, placing a hand on his jacket-covered chest and going on tiptoe to press a kiss on his jaw.
Dropping my heels to the floor, I undo his jacket. The man has way too many layers on. He helps by shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the chair as he kicks the door closed. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him as he lowers his head to kiss me. His lips are firm but gentle. It's a sip of a kiss. His free hand comes up to rest against my cheek as his thumb gently caresses my face. This is new. This gentleness. I like it. But not right now. We can be gentle later. Right now, I want this man. Fiercely.
My hands skate up his chest and behind his neck to allow my fingers to burrow into his thick hair. As I increase the pressure of our lips, I nip at his bottom lip. He growls low in his throat. That growl ripples through me, igniting flames of desire. On impulse, I leap up and wrap my legs around his trim hips. Like a perfect dance partner, he reacts immediately and catches me, his large hands gripping my ass. I grind against him, feeling his desire for me. Yeah. It's about time this fling gets flung. A knock on the door breaks through the desire-laced fog our kisses enveloped us in. Reluctantly, I break away. Trevor groans in frustration.
“I think that's our food,” I say, unwrapping my legs so he can lower me back to the floor.
“You can leave it by the door,” Trevor calls out. “Thank you.”
His hands are still on my ass, and he squeezes as he lowers his head to resume our kiss.
There's knocking again. “Sophie?” a deep voice calls. It's my brother. Damn it.
“I think Trevor's in there with her.” That's Miranda. “We should go, Declan.”
Yes, you should both go. Now.
I look up at Trevor with wide eyes. In silence, we acknowledge they know we're in here. Before I can say anything. I hear Declan say, “Oh. Hello. Yes, we'll take the sandwiches. We're joining them for dinner. Thank you so much.”
Trevor sighs and his shoulders slump. There’s no getting rid of them now. My brother will just camp outside the door and make a picnic of our dinner.
“We know you're in there, and we have your food. Open the damn door,” Declan says in a sing-song voice at odds with his words.
With a sigh of my own, I step out of Trevor’s arms and stomp over to the door, throwing it open. My eldest brother is standing there with a room service cart next to him and a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Are you going to invite us in? This looks like it would be plenty for the four of us.”
Miranda mouths the wordsorryas I step aside so Declan can wheel the cart in.
“Are we interrupting something?” Declan’s tone is innocent, but his smirk isn’t.
Trevor runs a hand through his hair, looking sheepish.
“Yes, you are,” I say.
