On thin ice, p.26
On Thin Ice, page 26
She was writhing on the bed, her ass rising to meet my mouth with every lick and suck. I pushed a finger into her heat, driving in and out a few times to coat it in her wetness. And then I curled it.
Matilda’s response was immediate. Her back arched on a long sigh of pleasure, wetness covering my hand. Wasting no time, I latched on to her clit, flicking and sucking until my name fell from her lips as a chant.
“I need you inside me,” she moaned while I flicked my tongue out again. “Now, Luca.”
“Bossy.” I kissed the inside of her thigh before standing. Taking hold of her hand, I pulled her to a sitting position to drag her dress over her head. The silky fabric slid smoothly over her shoulders, leaving her completely naked except for a curtain of wavy blond hair.
She leaned back, placing her hands on the bed, and I almost drooled.
Her lightly tanned skin was illuminated only by the light from the living room. Shadows danced across her skin, highlighting the curve of her waist, accentuating the taper between her full hips and fucking fantastic boobs—round with perfect pink nipples begging to be sucked. I swallowed.
Her eyes widened when I undressed, and they zeroed in on my cock. “Oh god,” she said, then caught her lip between her teeth, blushing.
Kneeling on the bed, I prowled until she lay completely flat beneath me. I leaned over her, our breaths mingling in the close, charged space between us.
“I’m not sure that’s going to fit,” she breathed, glancing at the narrow space between our bodies.
“You can take it, Stevens,” I whispered against her lips. “Have you ever been tied up before?” I asked, unsure whether her heated look at my belt had been from experience or intrigue. It might have been the first time we were having sex, but I certainly wasn’t going to kink-shame her if she wanted to be restrained.
She shook her head, but that wasn’t enough. “Words, Matilda.” I pressed a kiss to her throat. “You don’t have a problem using them any other time.”
“No.”
“Do you want to try it?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt in her eyes, no glimmer of the mask she wore for others.
“And you promise you’ll tell me if you change your mind?”
“I promise.”
I kissed her sweet spot, just below her ear, causing her legs to part further, and my cock bobbed against her pussy. I collected the belt from where I had discarded it on the bed and dragged it across her stomach, raising a line of goosebumps in its wake.
“Lift your arms.” She obliged, holding them up to one of the metal poles of the headboard. I wasted no time securing the belt around her wrists, making sure her arms were restrained but she could pull them out if she wanted to.
She strained against the belt, testing its strength.
“These look fucking delicious.” I dragged a finger over one nipple and then the other. She arched her back and moaned.
“I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes roamed over my chest before sinking lower to my crotch. “I have condoms in my side drawer.”
Thank fuck. I opened the drawer and tore a condom out of the box. But not before noticing the little bullet hidden in her drawer.
I snagged the toy along with the condom. Her eyes widened, a flush creeping up her cheeks when she noticed.
“Oh—that’s, umm—” she stuttered, before I put her out of her misery.
“We’ll use that later,” I told her. The small, hungry smile that crossed her lips was my undoing.
I rolled the condom onto my cock, squeezing the base as I did so. I lined myself against her, dragging my tip along her opening.
I pushed in, inch by inch, shivers erupting across my skin and shooting straight down my spine. Pleasure like I’d never known spread deep into my bones.
After a few smaller strokes, I bottomed out, and she took me so fucking well. I groaned into her neck as she moaned in pleasure.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. I didn’t dare move and risk coming too soon. She was tight and hot, and we fit together so perfectly. Her moans in my ear weren’t helping the situation, but I couldn’t stop.
Then she circled her hips, and I almost saw stars. But I obliged, pulling out right to the tip before pushing in again. This time, I couldn’t control the need to push in and out—nothing had ever felt this fucking good.
I picked up my pace, and her tits bounced with every thrust. I took a nipple into my mouth and sucked, and Matilda’s back arched in pleasure. I moved to her other nipple, leaving a trail of wetness coating her skin.
“I knew you’d take me so good, Stevens.” I pushed in again and again, her core clenching around me, throwing my rhythm off. I wouldn’t last long. The more her eyes hooded and lips parted, the more she pulsed around me, the more her arms pulled against the restraints, the closer I got to completely losing it.
I grabbed the vibrator and pressed it on, a light buzz filling the room. When she nodded eagerly, I wasted no time dragging it across her stomach and down, down, down until it rested gently against her clit.
Her reaction was instantaneous. Her back arched, and she released a long moan with a stream of oh my gods. She clenched so tightly around my cock that my teeth ground in an effort not to come.
I pressed the vibrator more firmly, circling it. Her eyes rolled back as her feet curled into the sheets.
“You’re.” Thrust. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Tight.”
“Oh, fuck—Luca,” she screamed, her legs starting to shake as an orgasm tore through her. She moaned and writhed, my dick growing slicker with each hurried thrust. Her arms slipped from the belt, nails dragging across my back.
“Fuck,” I growled as pleasure shot down my spine, the sound of my name on Matilda’s lips, combined with our slick noises and heavy breaths, sending me over the edge. My thrusts slowed as I emptied myself deep into her, not wasting a single second of pleasure.
When my thrusting slowed to a stop, I pulled her hands from where they hung over my shoulders and pressed a kiss to each one.
Unable to hold my weight any longer, I pulled myself out and rolled to the side. After discarding the condom in the wastebasket beside the bed, I grabbed Matilda’s thigh, dragging it across my body.
Her head lolled to the side to look at me, a satiated smile crossing her lips as her eyes fluttered open.
“It’s never felt that good.” She placed a hand on my chest, and I wondered whether she knew that my racing heartbeat wasn’t just from exhaustion. “I can’t believe I came during sex. I thought it was a myth.”
“Sex hasn’t ever felt that good for me, either,” I confessed. Her eyes widened, sparkling with surprise as her lips curved into a big, beautiful smile.
I’d always enjoyed sex, but it had never been that all-consuming and overwhelming, and I’d never been left with this feeling after. I didn’t know how to explain it.
I wasn’t used to feeling much during sex.
Maybe it was because it was with someone I trusted—and that scared the shit out of me.
The blue skies of sunrise filtered through the curtains and coaxed me from my dreams. As I blinked away the last remnants of sleep and slipped out of bed, my muscles ached and protested at the movement. Despite the slight discomfort, my body was satisfied in ways it hadn’t been in years.
A quick glance at Luca, who had his arm thrown across his eyes and the duvet pooled around his waist, confirmed he was still fast asleep. Deciding to return the favors he’d bestowed on me far too many times over the past few months, I hurriedly pulled on some shorts and a sweatshirt before heading out to grab us coffee.
On the way there, I realized I had to figure out what I wanted to come of all this. We couldn’t ignore it like we had after the dressing room, then keep walking the line of something more.
Luca liked and trusted me now, but I knew deep down that we wouldn’t work—we were too different. While I had struggled to accept Luca’s reasoning last night, in the cold light of day, I knew he was right. When he got the part in Dirty Dancing, he’d be halfway across the world, shooting for months, then attending premieres and after-parties, while I’d be attempting to build a new career here.
But just because I understood it didn’t mean I didn’t wish it were different.
And if Luca had taught me anything, it was that my opinion was important, even if I knew it wasn’t what the other person wanted to hear.
Friends with benefits was off the table. It wouldn’t work; sleeping with Luca last night was already at the edge of no return. I could admit that I had feelings for Luca, and having more mind-blowing sex wasn’t going to help them go away. As I arrived at Vinnie’s, thoughts still swirling in my mind, I decided that talking things through with Luca was the only way to figure out where we went from here.
Ten minutes later, I was removing the coffees from their holder as a very shirtless and very sleepy-looking Luca emerged from the bedroom, running a hand through his hair. My eyes were immediately drawn to his sculpted stomach, each muscle defined and tanned to a golden hue. I resisted the urge to release an appreciative sigh.
“Mornin’,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Did I oversleep?” He rested his arms on the other side of the counter.
“No, not at all.” I slid his black Americano across to him. “I’m just an early riser.” I took a sip of my coffee, hoping the warmth would distract me from my racing heart.
“Thank you.” He held his cup up in silent cheers before taking a sip. He nodded his head toward the sofa, gesturing for me to follow. We sank into the cushions, and I tucked my legs underneath me, our knees brushing.
We stared at each other for a moment.
“Hey,” I breathed.
“Hey.” His gaze softened and roamed my face. We were caught in each other’s gaze. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
“Me neither.”
We watched each other for a few long moments. I had no doubt the look on Luca’s face mirrored mine—an unspoken understanding of where this conversation was going.
“I know.” I steadied my voice but couldn’t hide the watery smile playing on my lips.
“This isn’t even about not wanting a relationship anymore, Matilda. I might have promised myself I wouldn’t do it again after Nancy, but that’s not the case. I want you. But we can’t—it won’t work.” He ran a hand across his jaw before continuing, “I don’t regret a single thing about last night, but…it was reckless. I’m not prepared to put you in a position where you have to sacrifice more of your life than you already have. Hell, we’re not even together and that paparazzo almost—” His jaw clenched, and he turned his head toward the window. “You’ve already been hurt, and we weren’t even together at that point. I can’t risk your safety, especially when I’m not going to be here with you.”
“I know.” I could probably handle the media frenzy, but there was no point getting into semantics.
Even so, I owed him my truth too, even though telling him how I really felt meant I was knowingly pushing him out of my life. An ache spread across my chest as if invisible hands were pulling my heart in two.
“I get it, Luca.” He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I continued, needing to say it before I chickened out. “I know we can’t do this”—I gestured between us—“again.” I swallowed the emotion, ignoring my racing heart. “I like you, Luca. I like you too much to be anything less than together. We can’t just keep things casual between us until the end of the show. We’re either together, or just friends.”
He nodded, his shoulders curved with silent acceptance, but his eyes continued to search my face. His lips parted for a moment before closing again. He tried once more, but his brow furrowed, conflict written across his face as if he were in a silent tug-of-war with himself.
“You need to know it’s not that I don’t want you. I do. I want you so fucking much that I—” He stopped himself, dragging a palm across his face. He looked to the ceiling as if searching for something. “It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
We held each other’s gaze. There was no awkwardness, just a shared contemplative reflection.
“You are important to me, Stevens. I never thought I’d be saying this three months ago, but you are. And your friendship is important to me.”
“And yours is to me.” Luca challenged me to be myself, to do the things I wanted to do and live the life I wanted.
Luca brought out the best in me, and I’d always be grateful for that.
He placed his cup on the table and clasped his hands in front of him. “Can we be friends?” And then he clarified, “Without benefits.”
“Friends.” We leaned in for a hug at the same time, as if we were in sync.
And although my heart felt tender and bruised, a swell of pride washed over me. It might not have been the outcome I’d longed for, but it was the one that was true to myself.
Being “just friends” with Matilda was proving fucking impossible when I wanted to punch any douchebag who looked in her direction.
Was I always this protective over her?
I’d thought my anger toward Mark was because he was a grade-A asshole. But now, when I saw him around the studio, my blood simmered at the reminder that he’d once had Matilda in all the ways I couldn’t.
It pissed me off.
Not only had he thrown her away when he hadn’t deserved her in the first place, but he’d also slept with her sister. What kind of arrogant asshole would do that? While I could almost empathize with why Matilda had chosen to stay in Taylor’s life over calling them out for their bullshit, I certainly didn’t have the same virtue.
Her mother’s excuse that she “didn’t want to get involved” was pathetic.
I hated all of them for causing her any pain.
Across the rink, Matilda was chatting away with her ice-skating buddies, and I was hyperaware of the appreciative glances toward her in those fucking shorts. Maybe I’d just hide them all—that would solve a lot of problems. Then, I might be able to drag my eyes away from her for more than one minute, while simultaneously stopping myself from feeling like I might snap every time someone looked in her direction.
It was the Tuesday before the final, and anticipation buzzed through the studio. The past two weeks had gone well—the public had loved Matilda’s mom’s skate, and we’d nailed our fire-inspired performance for Elements week. But things felt different between us, as if we were both trying to bury our feelings and pretend they weren’t there. Which…they were.
It was quieter now, with only three pairs left—Matilda and me, Asha and Alice, and Noah and Sophia. The presence of camera crews, producers, and channel staff ensured it was far from a ghost town. Sometimes, the other skaters came down to watch rehearsals, too. They were still being paid until the end of the season, so it killed some time for them to watch us practice.
Matilda was on the other side of the ice, resting her arms on the edge. Her oversized hoodie bunched around her waist, highlighting the round curve of her hips and ass. The other skaters were clearly eating up every single word she was saying. Morons.
Join the back of the moron line, buddy.
At least she had her back to me so she couldn’t see me staring.
My phone buzzed, dragging my attention away from my partner’s perfect ass. It was one of the Dirty Dancing producers. I clicked accept and held the phone to my ear, trying to ignore the rush of nerves tightening in my chest after a couple weeks of silence.
“Hi, Jeff. Great to hear from you.” I stood and weaved through the seats.
“Hey, Luca. How are you holding up?”
“Good. How about you?”
“All good here. Apologies for not getting back to you sooner. Your agent has been chasing us, but we just needed to line up a few things.”
The “few things” they “needed to line up” was code for how they “wanted to make sure I would keep myself in check.”
“No worries—I understand,” I said, although the pleasantries tasted sour on my tongue.
“We’re in London this week to meet the potential female lead. Do you think you could make it for a script reading?”
Hallelujah.
A weight lifted off my shoulders as I dragged a palm across my face. “Definitely. When would you like me there?”
“It’s a stopover, and she can only do it on Friday night. I’ve checked the show schedule, and the final isn’t until Saturday evening, so that should be OK?”
My steps slowed, and I paused.
Friday night was the end-of-season press event—the partner to the one I’d missed at the start, the one I’d stood Matilda up at. We’d moved our takeout night to Thursday so we could both attend the second one together.
I couldn’t miss this press event. Not again.
He must have read my pause as a hesitation. “It’s the only time she can do it, so we can’t move the time.”
“We have a press event on Friday.”
“When I spoke to the producer, he said it wasn’t mandatory.”
Fucking Mark.
Pushing through the double doors, I exited the rink and paced toward our dressing room.
The show would have been for nothing if I couldn’t attend this reading and lost my opportunity to secure the role. And Jeff was right: It wasn’t a required event, so the channel wouldn’t care.
But Matilda would.
I’m just so happy you’re going to be acting again—doing something you love.
For fuck’s sake, I needed the part. Skipping the script reading to attend an optional event wasn’t the action of someone who wanted the role.
But Matilda had had to face the last event by herself, and just because my goal was within reach didn’t mean hers was. She also needed to win the show.
