Melting Ice (7 page)

“You okay?” he asked gruffly. She saw the battle between concern for her and his lust reflected in those blue eyes.

She nodded. He bent down and covered his mouth with hers, his kisses demanding and hungry. This was where the rough and hard part obviously started, and she was all in.

“Hang on,” he warned. Avery gripped his broad shoulders, digging her fingernails into the fabric of his hoodie.

Isaac pulled out and slammed back into her with such force, he had to grip her ass hard to keep her from shooting off the arm of the couch. Holding her ass in his hands, he slammed into her again, harder this time, and harder the next time, and the next. She wouldn’t be sitting the trot for a few days after this. No effing way.

Avery wrapped her legs around his waist and arched into him. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let him dominate her, as he thrust into her over and over again. Their bodies slapped together in a frenzy of passion. She had no control and suspected he’d long lost his. She was on the verge of coming and sensed he was too when he stopped, buried balls-deep inside her.

His entire body shuddered from the effort it took to stop. He pulled out of her, and Avery waited for him to slam back inside again. Instead, he flipped her onto her stomach. With one big hand splayed across her back, he held her in place and smacked her ass several times, while she whimpered and writhed underneath him. When the heavenly assault on her ass ceased, she held her breath for what might come next. She didn’t wait long. He buried himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Reaching underneath her, Isaac grabbed her nipples none too gently. As he plunged his cock in and out of her willing body, he squeezed and pulled on her sensitive nubs, until her body detonated in a fiery explosion of heat, passion, and ecstasy.

Wave after wave of the most mind-blowing orgasm wracked her body. Isaac thrust several more times and came, too, gripping her nipples and twisting them so hard that needles of heavenly pain charged through her body and tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. She was glad he couldn’t see her tears because she couldn’t explain them if he asked.

She’d just had the most incredible sex in her life, so incredible it made her cry, and she didn’t know if she was crying because sex with him was the best ever, because it was over, or because there wouldn’t be an encore.

Or maybe she was crying because as mind-blowing as it was, she’d given him everything, while he’d held back the most important piece of himself.

She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did.

Even more disturbing was why it mattered.

* * * *

Isaac lay across Avery’s back, breathing hard, spent in mind and body. He closed his eyes, allowing the heady scent of her mingled with the smell of sex and sweat to soak into every pore in his boneless, sated body. He was still inside her, not willing to let go, to end it, to leave this incredible feeling of contentment, even as his innate dysfunction threatened to ruin the moment. Usually sex left him physically satisfied and emotionally empty. Not this time. This time his emotions ran the gamut from euphoria to comfort to fear all at the same time.

He heard her heart beating; he could feel it as if it were deep inside of him, linked to him, a part of him as essential to his own life as breathing. He needed more of her, her taste, her touch, her smile.

Only Isaac hadn’t needed anyone for a very long time, yet, he needed Avery.

Fuck
. Panic sliced through him, threatening to black out all the good feelings.

He stood abruptly and propped his knuckles on his hips, staring down at her sweet, rounded ass, red from his spanking and attempted to rein in his runaway emotions.

Avery rolled onto her back and reached out to him with a whimper, as if unwilling to let him go. Scared shitless at the power she’d exhibited over him and how she’d made him feel, he backed away a few steps and ran his hand through his short hair. He willed his breathing to calm from rampant gasps to steady inhales and exhales.

Avery sat up and rubbed her hands across her face then looked up at him with the most luminous blue eyes, like a Caribbean lagoon in the sunlight. Those beautiful eyes filled with confusion, and he knew, once again, he’d messed up. He’d put the confusion there, ruined everything wondrous, just like always.

Avery’s mouth open and closed as if she were trying to find the words but none came out. He got that. There weren’t words in the English language—hell, in any language—to do justice to what just happened between them. Nor were there words to explain how terrifyingly vulnerable he felt right now. In less than a half hour, she’d stripped away protective layers built from years of anguish and pain, leaving him naked, shivering, and exposed.

Isaac didn’t expose his soft underbelly to anyone. Ever. He couldn’t. He didn’t dare. He wouldn’t survive, and he was, among all things, a survivor.

He’d been right. She was dangerous.

This couldn’t happen again. He didn’t care how strong the pull was to wrap her in his arms and hold onto her forever. He wasn’t a romantic. He was a cynical pragmatist. Everything he touched turned to shit or was destroyed. He couldn’t do anything right except hockey, and he sure as hell didn’t do relationships. He’d destroyed the only women he’d ever cared about. He’d never go there again. Avery didn’t deserve that—but neither had they.

She must have seen the change in his eyes because her brow furrowed and worry lines marred her beautiful face.

“I told you I liked it rough,” he said, feeling damn cranky for a guy who’d just had some of the best sex in his life.

Her head shot up, and her eyes lit with fury like the Pacific Ocean in a hurricane. “Did you hear me complaining?”

“No.” He yanked on his clothes, not meeting her gaze.

“I—I enjoyed it.” Avery shot back, her voice challenging. She pulled down her bra and buttoned her shirt.

“Good.” Isaac shrugged, as if what happened between them was an everyday occurrence and not big deal. Her frown said it all as she hugged herself and ducked her head, her cheeks tinged with pink. A twinge of guilt cramped his stomach, leaving him feeling like a shit. Better that than her thinking there’d be a repeat because eventually he’d hurt her, too, if he stuck around, and she might, just might, slice him open where it hurt most—his heart.

“I need to get back to the horses.” She stood and pulled up her jeans, straightening her clothes.

“This was just a one-time thing,” Isaac was compelled to add, more for his own sake than hers.

“I know.” She almost sounded sad as she turned her back on him and walked out the door.

“Thanks,” he followed her into the aisle and called after her. His hollow words rang up and down the barn aisle. What a crappy thing to say to a woman who’d shown him he could still feel.

A few minutes later Isaac stole down the aisle and across the pasture separating their properties. He walked into his house, completely discombobulated. Women didn’t do that to him, and he’d damn well stay the hell away from Avery from this point forward.

Hal sat on his haunches on his dog bed in the corner and glared at him with accusing eyes, as if he knew exactly what Isaac had been doing and didn’t approve. Not that Hal approved of anything Isaac did. The dog’s lips were stuck under his teeth, causing him to sneer. Hal growled at Isaac, and Isaac rolled his eyes.

“Back at you, buddy.”

Hal turned his back on Isaac and lay down on the bed. They were a pair, all right, hating the world and everyone in it.

Only Isaac didn’t hate Avery—far from it.

Chapter 5—Playing with Fire

Once in a rare moment, Avery had rides like this one.

Avery held the reins in her hands as if they were thin threads of silk to be handled with the utmost care. Riot’s raw power rose under her seat, as she rode him around the arena in an almost trancelike state.

She was in the zone, and it’d never happened before with Riot, and rarely happened with other horses. She was so attuned to her horse, she thought where she wanted to go, and he would go there as if reading her mind. She imagined what she wanted him to do, and he’d do it. All the while, she never lost sight of that delicate thread connecting them, so easily broken with a minor lapse in concentration or a moment of tension. Pure relaxation turned a pure athletic performance into an art form.

Time stood still. Nothing existed but her and Riot, only they weren’t two separate beings, they were of one mind, one body, one soul. Riot moved willingly underneath her, giving her all she asked for with a rare display of enthusiasm.

She noticed Sam and Hans, the German dressage master who coached Sam, leaning on the arena gate watching them, and wondered how long they’d been there. Avery sat up straighter and applied a slight tension to the reins, slowing Riot to a walk. Her first temptation had been to ride Riot until their surreal bond dissipated, but she’d ridden him long enough, and she didn’t want to take advantage of his unusual generosity. Nothing equaled moments like this—except maybe sex with a dangerously hot man named Isaac.

“That was freaking awesome.” Sam’s huge smile said it all. Hans, in his typical German manner, said nothing, his face expressionless.

Avery halted Riot near the gate. He stood quietly, his sides heaving from the exertion. “Did it look as good as it felt?”

“Absolutely. What the hell happened? How did you manage to get that out of him? I’ve never seen you ride like that. You were relaxed, focused, gentle.”

“Thank you.” Avery swallowed back a lump in her throat, almost in tears. “It was indescribable. I mean there are no words.”

“I know,” Sam answered, still grinning. “The first time I felt that with Gabby, I knew we had a special bond. Now the key is to duplicate it. Be greedy. Want it every time. Find a way to get there.”

“But when I try too hard, he sulks and won’t cooperate.”

Hans cleared his throat, and both women turned to wait for whatever words of wisdom he chose to impart. He’d trained the best of the best, including gold medalists and trainers of gold medalists. Semi-retired, Hans worked out of the barn once a month for a week. Last year, he’d married one of his wealthier students, and the other three weeks they vacationed wherever their whims took them.

Avery waited for the day she became one of the chosen few. To date she’d filled in for other riders when they weren’t able to ride. Hans preached absolute patience and kindness with the horses, but his students were often the object of his ridicule and verbal abuse. He didn’t cut his two-legged students any slack.

“Iz gut,” he grunted. The highest compliment Avery had ever received from him. He turned to Sam. “Why iz she not part of my regular schedule?”

Both Sam and Avery knew why. Hans clearly stated a few months ago she wasn’t ready for him yet and should continue her instruction with Sam and ride as many different horses as she could.

“Your lesson schedule is full,” Sam pointed out, as Hans didn’t like to teach more than six hours a day.

“You vill squeeze her in.” On that note, he strode away, shouting to one of his students that he was ready for lunch, as if she were his personal minion. The poor woman ran after him, like a puppy hoping for a pat on the head.

“Are you ready for his abuse one week a month?” Sam winked at her.

“Yes,” Avery answered. Riding with Hans was the chance of a lifetime, even if the man happened to be an arrogant ass; he’d earned that arrogance.

“It’s not cheap,” Sam hedged, knowing Avery didn’t have an endless supply of money.

“I’ll get the money somewhere.”

Sam hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more. “Okay, I’ll fit you in next time he’s here.” Sam trotted off after Hans, most likely to do the king’s bidding herself.

Avery dismounted, unsaddled Riot, and threw a cooler blanket over him. She led him outside to walk him, still in awe over her ride and the invitation to train with one of the best in the country.

Sadly, her euphoria was short-lived when she started to come down from her high and began to consider the financial ramifications. Hans charged more per lesson than she made in a week, and she needed enough for five to six lessons a month.

She was so screwed
.

Not willing to let monetary problems ruin the great buzz she’d gotten from an incredible ride, Avery pushed it aside and forced herself to concentrate on the good stuff. She glanced out into the grassy field where Tiffani held her horse’s lead rope as he grazed. It was a rare January day in Seattle. The sun shone brightly and temperatures hovered in the mid- to upper fifties. Her gaze strayed to Isaac’s house, as if drawn by a powerful magnet. As it had been since she’d laid eyes on the man only a few days earlier, her mind drifted to a pair of ice-blue eyes framed in a ruggedly handsome face with a sinfully hot body.

Last night she’d done an almost stranger on the couch in the lounge of the horse barn. Less than twelve hours later her life had changed in ways she couldn’t have predicted, and Isaac had been the catalyst.

Bella had been right.

Yet, still she wondered what’d possessed her to make such a bold move. Okay, well, maybe that set of piercing ice-blue eyes, a hot, so-male body, and an irresistible instant chemistry, and don’t forget the bad-boy vibe he had in spades. What woman could resist a bad boy? Regardless, she was secretly ashamed of herself and embarrassed. She didn’t do one-night stands. She had her pride, and her body was worth more than just a casual encounter. At least in most cases.

Who the hell was she kidding? She do it again with him given half the chance.

Not only had she had an incredible ride on Riot, but her horses were going better than ever, and even her twin remarked on how relaxed and laid back she seemed.

In fact, Riot had been stupendous, acting as if he honestly loved life and his rider. She’d do anything to capture that magic again because it had been pure magic.

Her face fell.

Yet Isaac had made it clear he didn’t do repeats.
One and done
, he’d said, but she couldn’t get him out of her mind. This was exactly why stranger sex didn’t work so well for her. She wasn’t a stranger sex kind of girl. Despite how well her horses were going, thoughts of Isaac distracted her from her personal goals—her riding career and her teaching. Only this afternoon, she’d been teaching a young student when midsentence she’d flashed back to planting kisses on a strong, clenched jaw as the owner of that jaw buried his thick, hard erection deep inside her, while she lay on the lounge couch. Finally the student rode into the center of the arena and stopped, staring at Avery as if she’d lost her mind.