I crossed the small living room and thumped down on the couch across from him, tucking my legs under me. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you.”
“It’s not sweet,” he said. “I’d be a real dick if I just ignored your crying.”
“Well, I did shut you out of my room,” I said easily, feeling warm at hearing his words. For a big bruiser, Ty sure was thoughtful. “But…thank you.”
His gaze slid over my bare legs again. “Yeah.” He sounded distracted.
That was a wonderfully heady feeling. I stretched one leg out innocently toward him and wiggled my toes, just to see how he’d react.
Ty got really still. “Zara. Maybe you should put some pants on or something.”
I shifted my leg and wiggled my toes against his thigh. Big, strong thigh. Ty was big and strong everywhere, practically bulging with muscles. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He rubbed his mouth and glanced at my bare legs again. “I’m just…human, you know? And if you’re not careful, you’re going to give me a boner. I’m just warning you.”
“Well…” I grazed my toe along his thigh, considering. “Remember our kiss at the restaurant?”
“Oh yeah.”
My skin flushed with warmth at the way he said that. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one obsessing over that night, and wondering if I’d made the right choice. “The way I see it…we don’t have to worry about wrecking our juju anymore. We’re out of the competition. So…there’s nothing stopping us from kissing again. Or…more. We could always do more.” Dammit, virgin mouth, quit talking. “I’m not saying that I just want to kiss. I mean, if you want to just kiss, that’s fine with me, of course. But—”
“Zara,” Ty said, and he hauled my smaller body into his lap with a swift motion. “Are you coming on to me?”
Embarrassment flooded my body. “Not if you don’t want me to—”
His fingers touched my chin. “You know how I said I might get a boner? Already kinda have one. Have one every time you’re around. You sitting here in your panties? Fucking killing me.”
I scooted closer, my legs pulled over his lap, and I ran a hand along the thick muscles at his neck and shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“Make you feel better?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “There are a lot of reasons I’d have a boner, but Pity-Boner is not on the list.”
“Just…making sure.”
His hand ran down my arm. “For a girl that’s so confident on the ice, you sure are skittish in a guy’s arms.”
Oh god, was I that obvious? How mortifying. “Everyone’s got to have a first time at some point.”
Ty froze, his hand cupping my elbow. His gaze locked on mine. “What did you just say?”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Um, nothing.”
He practically recoiled. “Your first time? Zara…you’re not really underage are you? Because if I’ve been creeping on a fourteen-year-old, I’m never going to forgive myself—”
“No!” I smacked him on the shoulder, hard. “I’m twenty fucking five! Do you want to see my driver’s license?”
“I almost do,” he said, eyeing me. “What kind of twenty-five-year-old hasn’t had sex in this day and age?”
I started to crawl off his lap. “You know what? Never mind—”
“Oh no you don’t,” he told me, grabbing me as I started to get up and dragging me back into his lap again. This time, he sat me fully on his lap, my bottom pressing against him, and I could feel the thick erection in his pants. It made me breathless. One thick arm trapped me around the waist. “Now, explain. Why are you still a virgin, Zara?”
“How many guys do you think I got to hang out with while spending fourteen hours a day on the ice rink? I was homeschooled.”
“Yeah, but didn’t you crash out at fourteen or something? What after that? You still didn’t date?”
“I…kind of had some self-esteem issues after that.” There had been years of self-loathing in there. “Pair that in with the fact that the only jobs I remotely qualify for involve ice skating, and there weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities to hook up.”
“Didn’t you ever just go out and let your hair down? Hang out with friends at a club? Meet guys there?”
I said nothing. Naomi was my best and closest friend, and the reason why we got along so well was because we were both socially backward. If I was on the ice fourteen hours a day, Naomi had her nose shoved in a book for an equal amount of time. “Not really good with meeting guys,” I said in a terse voice.
“Christ,” Ty said, and he lightly tapped his forehead against my back repeatedly, mimicking banging his head against a wall. “A virgin. I so did not need this.”
I tried to squirm out of his arms. “You dick. Aren’t guys supposed to be excited when a chick’s a virgin?”
“Why? I thought we were going to have some sexy, no-strings-attached sex. Now I have to freak out about hurting you because you’re a fucking flea, and I’m a big guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what? This is really killing my mood right now. Forget I said anything.” I tried to get up again.
He pulled me back down once more, and I thumped back onto his lap, earning a small groan from him. “You sure as shit can’t go now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re killing me.” His hand stroked along the outside of my bare thigh. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are right now? In a t-shirt and these little panties? And to know that you’re a virgin? It’s a total turn on, and utterly terrifying at the same time.”
“How do you think I feel?” I asked quietly. My body was stiff on his lap, but all of my attention was on the hand gliding up and down the outside of my thigh: warm, hard, and utterly captivating. He was callused, the pads of his fingers rough, but I liked that. They were hands that were good at what they did. They matched Ty—a little coarse and uncouth, but tender.
Sexy, no-strings-attached sex? I wanted sex, but I wasn’t sure how good I’d be at the ‘no-strings-attached’ part. He was going to be my first. That mentally had me all goofy already.
His big hand cupped my knee, and then his mouth pressed against my shoulder, through my shirt. “Zara,” he murmured.
“You’re not going to ask to see my ID again, are you?” I asked, my voice shaky with nerves and desire.
“Nah. I was just giving you a hard time. I watched your Olympics reel on YouTube.” He brushed his lips over my shoulder. “When you were fourteen, you looked like you were eight.”
I rolled my eyes. “So what were you going to say, then?”
His hand moved from my knee and slid up to the hem of my t-shirt. “I was going to ask you if you’d take this off.”
The breath sucked out of my lungs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
She wanted this so badly, and I wanted to get it for her. — Ty Randall, to his manager
“It’s not sweet,” he said. “I’d be a real dick if I just ignored your crying.”
“Well, I did shut you out of my room,” I said easily, feeling warm at hearing his words. For a big bruiser, Ty sure was thoughtful. “But…thank you.”
His gaze slid over my bare legs again. “Yeah.” He sounded distracted.
That was a wonderfully heady feeling. I stretched one leg out innocently toward him and wiggled my toes, just to see how he’d react.
Ty got really still. “Zara. Maybe you should put some pants on or something.”
I shifted my leg and wiggled my toes against his thigh. Big, strong thigh. Ty was big and strong everywhere, practically bulging with muscles. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He rubbed his mouth and glanced at my bare legs again. “I’m just…human, you know? And if you’re not careful, you’re going to give me a boner. I’m just warning you.”
“Well…” I grazed my toe along his thigh, considering. “Remember our kiss at the restaurant?”
“Oh yeah.”
My skin flushed with warmth at the way he said that. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one obsessing over that night, and wondering if I’d made the right choice. “The way I see it…we don’t have to worry about wrecking our juju anymore. We’re out of the competition. So…there’s nothing stopping us from kissing again. Or…more. We could always do more.” Dammit, virgin mouth, quit talking. “I’m not saying that I just want to kiss. I mean, if you want to just kiss, that’s fine with me, of course. But—”
“Zara,” Ty said, and he hauled my smaller body into his lap with a swift motion. “Are you coming on to me?”
Embarrassment flooded my body. “Not if you don’t want me to—”
His fingers touched my chin. “You know how I said I might get a boner? Already kinda have one. Have one every time you’re around. You sitting here in your panties? Fucking killing me.”
I scooted closer, my legs pulled over his lap, and I ran a hand along the thick muscles at his neck and shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“Make you feel better?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “There are a lot of reasons I’d have a boner, but Pity-Boner is not on the list.”
“Just…making sure.”
His hand ran down my arm. “For a girl that’s so confident on the ice, you sure are skittish in a guy’s arms.”
Oh god, was I that obvious? How mortifying. “Everyone’s got to have a first time at some point.”
Ty froze, his hand cupping my elbow. His gaze locked on mine. “What did you just say?”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “Um, nothing.”
He practically recoiled. “Your first time? Zara…you’re not really underage are you? Because if I’ve been creeping on a fourteen-year-old, I’m never going to forgive myself—”
“No!” I smacked him on the shoulder, hard. “I’m twenty fucking five! Do you want to see my driver’s license?”
“I almost do,” he said, eyeing me. “What kind of twenty-five-year-old hasn’t had sex in this day and age?”
I started to crawl off his lap. “You know what? Never mind—”
“Oh no you don’t,” he told me, grabbing me as I started to get up and dragging me back into his lap again. This time, he sat me fully on his lap, my bottom pressing against him, and I could feel the thick erection in his pants. It made me breathless. One thick arm trapped me around the waist. “Now, explain. Why are you still a virgin, Zara?”
“How many guys do you think I got to hang out with while spending fourteen hours a day on the ice rink? I was homeschooled.”
“Yeah, but didn’t you crash out at fourteen or something? What after that? You still didn’t date?”
“I…kind of had some self-esteem issues after that.” There had been years of self-loathing in there. “Pair that in with the fact that the only jobs I remotely qualify for involve ice skating, and there weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities to hook up.”
“Didn’t you ever just go out and let your hair down? Hang out with friends at a club? Meet guys there?”
I said nothing. Naomi was my best and closest friend, and the reason why we got along so well was because we were both socially backward. If I was on the ice fourteen hours a day, Naomi had her nose shoved in a book for an equal amount of time. “Not really good with meeting guys,” I said in a terse voice.
“Christ,” Ty said, and he lightly tapped his forehead against my back repeatedly, mimicking banging his head against a wall. “A virgin. I so did not need this.”
I tried to squirm out of his arms. “You dick. Aren’t guys supposed to be excited when a chick’s a virgin?”
“Why? I thought we were going to have some sexy, no-strings-attached sex. Now I have to freak out about hurting you because you’re a fucking flea, and I’m a big guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what? This is really killing my mood right now. Forget I said anything.” I tried to get up again.
He pulled me back down once more, and I thumped back onto his lap, earning a small groan from him. “You sure as shit can’t go now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re killing me.” His hand stroked along the outside of my bare thigh. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are right now? In a t-shirt and these little panties? And to know that you’re a virgin? It’s a total turn on, and utterly terrifying at the same time.”
“How do you think I feel?” I asked quietly. My body was stiff on his lap, but all of my attention was on the hand gliding up and down the outside of my thigh: warm, hard, and utterly captivating. He was callused, the pads of his fingers rough, but I liked that. They were hands that were good at what they did. They matched Ty—a little coarse and uncouth, but tender.
Sexy, no-strings-attached sex? I wanted sex, but I wasn’t sure how good I’d be at the ‘no-strings-attached’ part. He was going to be my first. That mentally had me all goofy already.
His big hand cupped my knee, and then his mouth pressed against my shoulder, through my shirt. “Zara,” he murmured.
“You’re not going to ask to see my ID again, are you?” I asked, my voice shaky with nerves and desire.
“Nah. I was just giving you a hard time. I watched your Olympics reel on YouTube.” He brushed his lips over my shoulder. “When you were fourteen, you looked like you were eight.”
I rolled my eyes. “So what were you going to say, then?”
His hand moved from my knee and slid up to the hem of my t-shirt. “I was going to ask you if you’d take this off.”
The breath sucked out of my lungs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
She wanted this so badly, and I wanted to get it for her. — Ty Randall, to his manager
