Chapter 18 Cassie
Cassie
“Do it.”
I hear myself say the words out loud.
Those are two dangerous words to say to Cole Taylor.
Dangerous words to say to any man you’ve had a decade-spanning crush on.
Dangerous when you’re alone on the ice and both your careers rely on keeping things squeaky clean and professional between you.
It’s a joke, I tell myself. It started that way, at least. Me asking Cole to show me how to check someone. But suddenly it’s happening, and I’m desperate to cross the space between us.
“All right then, Cassie.” Cole skates right up to me, and there’s a swoop of nerves in my stomach.
But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet.
My heart hammers like a drumbeat as Cole slowly drops to his knees.
His fingers loop around the laces on my left skate—it’s come loose.
He meets my gaze again, and it doesn’t leave my face as he cleanly bows the laces up tight.
“Careful, Cassie. Safety first. Don’t want you getting hurt on my watch. ”
Every time I think I know what Cole’s thinking… he just goes ahead and makes me confused.
He missed team practice, but he was actually helping Noah through a panic attack.
He implied he couldn’t trust me because of my job, but then cared enough to stop me taking the fall to Coach.
He acts so cold and tough, but then he spends his whole afternoon messing around playing keep away just to help a rookie find the joy of hockey again.
“Thanks.” I bite the inside of my lip as Cole rises back up to where he towers above me.
“So, here’s your lesson.” There’s a flicker in his eyes. “When you body check someone against the boards, it’s all about gravity. You check, and then you pin. It’s more about control than force. Plant a hand on their hip and use the strength from your legs.”
He demonstrates the action on thin air, and I try to copy it. His lips quirk into a smile. “How about you try it on me.”
Nerves tingle in my fingers. “Get ready to go flying,” I quip, but my heart isn’t in the chirping anymore, because everything in my body suddenly feels warm and heavy and coiled.
This time, I follow his form as I skate forward and… I push against him.
It’s like hitting a wall of muscle. Immoveable. Heat floods me at the realization of just what his body feels like, even between all these layers of clothes.
His eyes glint down at me, amused. “Better. Getting there. And on the other end…” He pauses, raising his hands to my arms but stopping short of touching. “Can I?”
I nibble my bottom lip (and I can’t help but notice how his eyes plummet to my mouth then drag back up). “Yes. Sure.”
Cole’s touch is firm but gentle, those big hands on my upper arm. He shifts me toward the wooden board and my pulse spikes.
“When you get body checked, it’s all about being prepared for it.“ His eyes rake over my body. “Fix your stance, sunshine. You need a low center of gravity, so you don’t get knocked right over.”
His instructions ignite a pulse in some deep, untapped part of me.
What?
I never thought a man telling me what to do would be a turn on—the opposite, in fact—but I can’t deny the coil of tension deep within me.
His hand drops to my hips, tantalizingly hovering above my hip. I have to bite my cheek just to stop myself from telling him to just touch me again already.
“Spread your legs further apart,” he says, voice low and simmering.
And that—
Well.
A junior agent only has so much professionalism in her for the day, and I think I just ran out.
My stomach does a crazy somersault.
“Oh—okay,” I reply, and that’s all I can manage.
I’m glad Cole doesn’t wait for a more thorough response, because I’m pretty sure my voice just died in my throat and went to heaven. I nod like I’m not burning up inside and push my skates apart a little further into a wider stance.
“It’s like a lot of things in life,” he says. “Shit comes out of nowhere to knock you down. It’s inevitable. But you just have to do your best to be prepared.” His smile curves. “Luckily, you’re the most overprepared woman I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks, I think. So… how do you prepare for it?”
“It’s about bracing for it, absorbing it”—in slow motion, just like he promised, he skates toward me—“taking it.”
Dizzy thoughts swirl in my head like a blizzard, like a real nor’easter storm.
I’m suddenly hyperaware of it, how my thighs are brushing together under my skirt. How the ache between my legs is building hotter and hotter.
His fingers slide over my ribs, and all I can think about is them sinking down to ply my panties to the side, to skim between my legs. To draw out my wetness, bring me some relief from this overwhelming feeling of need.
“You don’t fight it. You lean into it.”
I lean back against him, just slightly.
“Good,” he murmurs, and I try not to melt on the spot.
His hand slides up my ribs, pressed gently against them.
“Then they go for the pin. You get them where you want them,” he murmurs in a half-growl.
He ever so slightly pushes me against the barrier, my chest gently pressing against the surface.
It makes some part of me ache, knowing that he’s using just one percent of his strength to push me forward.
His breath is warm against the curve of my neck. “And then you keep them there.”
The words send electricity through my body. I’m suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to see his face, to look into his eyes.
I wriggle, shifting my body around under his grip until I’m facing him. He blinks in surprise, and my face is inches below his. His clean, masculine scent fills my senses.
We’re suspended like that for a moment.
I can feel snow starting. Cold against the flush of my skin. Flakes settle on my face. I can’t breathe.
His finger rises, and with a torturous drag, he brushes a snowflake from my lip. I feel it melt under his touch.
“Cassie,” he starts. His voice sounds hungry. Like he wants to eat me whole.
“Yeah?” I whisper.
Something changes in his expression. Some restraint kicking in.
“It’s snowing,” he states.
That wasn’t what he was going to say.
God, do I want to know what he was going to say.
He backs off, smoothly skating away till there’s distance between us again. “We should go before the snow sets in any more. Don’t want the roads to get icy.”
“Right.” I force the cheerful, professional smile back onto my face.
But I don’t feel sunny. I don’t even feel cold, either.
It might be snowing.
But I’ve never felt that kind of heat before.