“This feels amazing,” she breathes.
“Now you know why I love it so much.”
She laughs, her head tipping backwards to rest against my chest. My gaze gravitates down toward her and the pink of her nose from the cold, where her hands grip mine, her hips beneath my touch.
God, she’s fucking perfect.
Molded against me I swear it’s as if we were made for one another.
We lap around the ice like that twice, her head tipped back, her eyes closed. And despite how much I love every second of this, I want her to know she can do this on her own. Slowly, I ease away, only for a high-pitched scream to leave her.
Bella panics, half flailing, her nails digging into my skin. “No, no, no, no!” she yelps. “If you let go of me, Grayson, so help me God I will cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”
My head drops back with a burst of shocked laughter. “Jesus, Bella, graphic much?”
“I’m serious!”
“Oh, I know.”
Sliding my hand across her back, I test the waters and move to skate beside her. From here, I can see the deep frown on her face. “I don’t like this position.”
My brow quirks. “Prefer me behind you, baby?”
Her eyes widen, and I smirk as I move in front of her. She scrambles forward, clutching my hands again as I skate backwards, facing her.
A low growl slips from her throat. “The other way works better.”
“I must admit, I’ve never had a woman so desperate to have me behind her.”
She sends a seething glare my way. “Stop it.”
“Stop what? I’m just practicing my flirting.”
“You don’t need to practice,” she huffs, her eyes focusing on her feet.
My grin is downright dirty as I drawl, “Because I’m so amazing at it?”
“Because you can get whomever you want without trying.”
The words douse me with a bucket of ice, and a muscle feathers in my jaw. “Well, maybe I don’t want easy. Maybe I want someone who’s stubborn and has a mind of their own.”
I come to a screeching halt, catching Bella as she slams into my chest, a small grunt of shock leaving her as I hold her to me.
“Find someone else to practice on,” she snaps, irritated. Either from the conversation or my sudden stop, I’m unsure.
She’s full on glowering at me now, and my own frustration bubbles up within me. Can’t she see that I wanther? Or does she only see me as an employer? It sure didn’t feel like it when she was in my arms as I kissed her last night.
But that was under the guise of practice for the arrangement.
Fuck this fucking arrangement.
“No.”
She raises an eyebrow. “No?”
I cross my arms over my chest, grinning as she scrambles, her hands shooting out to hold onto my T-shirt. Her frown deepens.
“No, I don’t want to flirt with anyone else.”
