Hotter On Ice / Slow Hands

“Yesterday, you said you had no other in-person clients,” she said. “Why did you take this job?”

Henning swallowed, taking his time to consider his answer.

Because I couldn’t say no to you. Because the chance to be next to you for five days was too much to resist.

No, he definitely couldn’t go there. Instead, he went for an easier truth. “Because you deserve to feel safe.”

She tilted her head to the side. “So does everyone.”

“Of course,” he said. “But after what happened in the AFP, I won’t take an assignment unless I’m sure I understand all the threats and would do whatever it takes to keep that person safe. Anything.”

As the words left his mouth, he knew he shouldn’t have said them. They hinted at both the past that haunted him and the intensity of his feelings for her, neither of which had any place on this trip. Henning scrubbed his hands over his face. The bristles from his unshaven jaw pricked at his right hand, but under his left hand the scar that pulled at the side of his mouth was unnaturally smooth. A reminder of how wrong things could go.

Alya’s expression was completely unreadable. “Henning, I’m going to ask you something I’ll probably regret, but here it goes.” She took a deep breath. “If I kissed you right now, would that interfere with our bodyguard-client relationship?”

He stilled. He didn’t even breathe, but his cock jolted to life. Did he hear her right? Fuck, he had thought about kissing her so many times it was hard to register this was really happening. In his head, he could imagine the kiss as his old self, before the attack, before the scars. Soft, beautiful before it turned hungry. Perfect.

But deep inside, his past was still an open wound. Lying on that cold warehouse floor, fighting his own pain while trying to save Sanjay, watching the bastard who caused the explosion get away, he had seen his actions for what they were. Selfish. He had been blinded by his own goal, taking a risk to grab the leader, a risk that ended Sanjay’s life. That was reality, a cold, hard reality he would live with for the rest of his life. Never again would he let his own wants drive his actions. So how could he consider kissing Alya, knowing all this?

Henning blew out a breath. Shit. Why the hell was he thinking about all this right now?

His expression had no doubt grown darker because her smile had faded.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice filled with false cheer. “Should have gone with my first instinct to keep my mouth shut. Let’s just pretend I didn’t say that. I’ll find someone else to proposition.”

Henning flinched. A storm hit him, a storm of protectiveness and something else he didn’t want to acknowledge, despite the ache of his cock.

“No.” The word came out sharp and urgent before he could stop himself. Alya drew in a quick, startled breath, and he winced. But fuck, no. The idea of watching her flirt with another man was doing crazy things to his insides. It sent a surge through him, twisting into every long-dormant competitive urge to show her all the ways he could satisfy her better. It was the kind of drive he used to thrive on.

No. Just no. He had sworn to himself when he took this job that it had to be all about her. So what the hell was he supposed to do with this situation? Let her go off and find another man, someone who probably wouldn’t give a shit about what she needed? If he said yes to this, gave her what she wanted, it would have to be with his sole focus on her, not selfishly chasing his own needs.

He reached for Alya, touching her cheek, coaxing her to look at him. She did, meeting his eyes, and he found traces of embarrassment. Did she think he was rejecting her? Hell, no. Take it easy. He swallowed.

“There’s nothing in the world I want more than to kiss you right now,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to ever think otherwise, no matter what happens.”

Her eyes widened, and they came alive with unguarded interest. So much better. He pushed on.

“And, to answer your question, no, it wouldn’t interfere. Especially not if the doors are locked.”

A slow smile spread over her face, a glow of happiness returning. Damn, it was breathtaking. Then she reached for the dashboard and pressed the lock button.

Henning’s body jumped to attention, his cock all in, the eager fucker. Slow the hell down. He took a deep breath. This was for her. He had to get it right.

“But before we continue, I need to tell you something,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “I haven’t kissed anyone since before the attack where I got these scars. It was five years ago.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve been celibate for five years?”

The uninjured corner of his mouth tugged up. “That’s not quite what I said.”

Understanding registered in her eyes. “Got it,” said Alya, and a hint of amusement twinkled in her eyes. Thank fuck for that.

Henning pressed on. “I’m telling you because I don’t even know if I can kiss you the way I want to right now. The way you deserve.”

She quirked her eyebrow at him. “And what do I deserve?”

“A kiss promising you that you’re the only thing in the world that matters.”

She blinked, swallowed, as if his words were sinking in. Good. Because he wasn’t fooling around here. Anything that happened with her would get his full attention. She was quiet for a while, and then she straightened up in her seat.

“You know what I think I need?” she said with a little smile. “Something that’s hot and fun with someone I can trust. And I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ll get.”

Henning blew out a breath. He could do this as long as he kept his focus on her.

So he looked straight into the endless oceans of her eyes and shut everything else out. “Okay. We can try for that.”

Holy shit. Alya took a couple steadying breaths, trying to slow down her runaway heartbeat and jump-start her brain. Last night, alone in her apartment, this had all sounded way more reasonable. Somewhere around midnight, Alya had decided to simply ask for what she wanted: a few days of sexy fun. Except, the morning after, when Henning showed up at her doorstep, she still hadn’t quite figured out what to say.

Are you interested in spending a few of your off-duty hours naked with me?

Maybe a little too direct. Alya had spent a good portion of the seemingly endless procession of flights to Sweden contemplating how to test Henning’s interest. His aloofness during the travel had her second-guessing the idea, but once they got into the car, the intense attraction she had felt after yesterday’s meeting was back. So, she went with it.

Then came the words she was sure she’d never forget: A kiss promising you that you’re the only thing in the world that matters. She couldn’t resist the intensity in his voice. How did he know this was her personal kryptonite, the thing he could say to send her body into flames? But these were dangerous words, too much like the lies that kept her going back to Nick Bancroft, long after she should have fled for good.

Except Nick was the past, and she wasn’t that woman anymore. Just a few days of fun.

Still, the questions kept rolling through her mind. Did the scars around his mouth hurt him? Who had he had sex with for the past five years without kissing? And, most of all, how did she make sure not to get sucked in too deep?

Alya filed her questions away and took off her seat belt. She reached over and unlocked Henning’s. He slipped it off his shoulder but made no move to touch her. His eyes were hot but guarded, burning into her. He seemed to be waiting for her, so she unzipped her down parka and shrugged it off.

He smiled a little. “Getting hot already? We haven’t even started.”

“I was up late thinking about this last night.” She winked at him playfully. “Move your chair back a little.”

“Anything you want,” he said softly, amusement dancing in his eyes. The more they talked this way, close, intimate, the more she could read him. He unzipped his own coat and eased the seat back, tipping it at an angle, making enough room for her to climb on. So she did. The car was big, but so was Henning, so they shuffled and laughed and adjusted until she was facing him, knees tucked on both sides of his thick thighs. His body radiated heat, and God, it felt so good. He felt so good.

“Your hands are big,” she said, fitting them against her own. His were so much thicker and longer.

“Does that turn you on?”

She laughed. “Maybe?”

Some of the lightness in his eyes faded. “Meaning you wish it didn’t?”

She paused. “It’s just complicated.”

“We can stop anytime.”

“I know.” She could see he needed that reassurance that she would speak up if she wanted to stop, and he relaxed a little under her touch, his smile slowly returning. But stopping wasn’t her worry at all. It was that she really, really liked this—his size, the way he was with her, everything—and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know why. But that didn’t have to figure into kissing him.

Henning slipped his hands around her waist and cupped her ass, bringing her up against him, closer, until she brushed against the enormous bulge in his pants. His eyes were heavy with humor and lust. Right now, Henning was worlds away from the hard, impassive bodyguard who had traveled next to her all day. For all his big body and muscles, he was...gentle with her. There was no other word for it.

...you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

Alya swallowed. He was talking about the kiss, not making some larger declaration. This was sexy fun, just what she had wanted. And she wasn’t going to taint it with her past hang-ups. So she pushed all of those ideas out of her mind, and focused on the stunning man in front of her. The man whose heavy cock was currently pressing against her.

“So you want this kind of kiss?” he asked, smiling.

She nodded and moved up and down against his erection, using it to stroke her clit. He flexed his hips and ground against her, sending more sparks of pleasure through her. He did it again, rubbing his cock in every sensitive place, making her moan and shudder.

“Yes,” she said, a little breathless. “This is definitely the kind of kiss I want.”

He flexed his hips again, and her eyes rolled back as another wave of pleasure coursed through her. Oh, yes.

Henning looked like he was enjoying this slow, hot grind just as much as she was, but after hearing about his five-year kissing dry spell, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was also distracting her. If it was easier to give her his cock than his mouth.

“Henning?” she whispered.

“Mmm?”

“I want to kiss.”

He stilled under her, his fingers tense. Then he nodded. “I do, too.”

His gaze was dark, unreadable. She lifted her hands to his face, and, gently, she cupped his jaw. He closed his eyes as her fingers met his skin. Slowly she ran her thumb over one of the ropy scars by his mouth. A rumble came from deep inside him.

“How does this feel?”

He paused, his breath uneven. “Intense.”

“Does it hurt?”

Henning gave a raspy laugh. “Hell, no. Very much the opposite.”

“Good.” Alya smiled. “Ready?”

He nodded. Alya leaned forward, resting her hands against his biceps. She waited there, looking for hesitation. There was tension, so much tension, as they waited there on the edge of this precipice. But he gave her a little nod, willing to jump. So she brushed her lips against his, testing. His cock throbbed against her, and the muscles of his arms hardened under her fingers. She tested again. His lips felt...different. A good different. She stayed there, not moving, breathing in his warm scent, getting used to this new tentative exploration. Letting him get used to her. More breaths, each uneven rasp stoking heat inside her. She pressed her mouth more firmly against his, and this time he responded. He parted his lips and tasted her. Every brush of his lips, every swipe of his tongue was achingly slow.

Alya tilted her head, learning how their mouths fit together, learning what made him groan. His hands tightened around her, and she slid her fingers along his jaw, the heaviness of each scar line weighing under her hand.

And then something flipped. It was as if he finally let the pent-up want from those five years loose. His kisses turned greedy, and a growl escaped from his chest as he nipped at her lips and sucked on her tongue. All the softness from before was fading, and God, how she loved this new, hungrier side. She moved, letting the stiff, thick ridge of his cock drag along her core, and he responded, tilting his hips, giving them both that exquisite friction. Sighs. Moans. Wordless pleas from her lips for more. Her body was on fire, the pressure building inside as his cock moved against her clit. She kissed the scarred corner of his mouth, his jaw, finding the rough lines, the smooth lines, the stubble. She wanted all of it.

“Fuck, you turn me on.” His whisper rasped in her ear. “I want to make you feel good. Can you come like this?”

Alya hadn’t thought that far, but now that he mentioned it... “I think so.”

“Good.” His teeth scraped her neck. “Hang on tight.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes. Damn, just the muscles of his shoulders were enough to send a jolt of pleasure through her. Then, he began lifting her up and down in a slow, steady rhythm that was...oh, God, it was exactly what she wanted.

“Like this?” he whispered. “Does this feel good?”

His voice was a rasp in her ear, a low, rough invitation.

“Yes, Henning,” she moaned, her head dropping to his neck as the pleasure built.

The moment his name left her lips, a new rumble came from deep in his chest. Then another. Sounds of raw, insatiable hunger, of contrasts, pleasure and pain, want and fear. And need. So much need. His voice called to something buried inside her, uncovering it. New desires bubbled, still not fully formed. The aching sound grew louder, but it was her own moan that filled the car. She was right there on the edge of coming as he thrusted his hips harder. She searched for his mouth again. The kiss was rough, each aching stroke of his tongue matching the thrust of his cock against her.

Pleasure shot through her as she moved, drawing out the orgasm, losing herself in the heat of their bodies, in the scent of sex, in him. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she rested her cheek on his thick shoulder, breathing in his scent. Henning’s heart thudded in her ear.

What had just happened? The connection between them was so powerful, almost as if—

Slow down. She wasn’t going to mistake pleasure and affection for something else. The ecstasy-induced haze was clouding her brain. So, instead, she took one last, long inhale of turned-on male and put a little distance between them.

“Well, that was certainly a full-service kiss,” she said, her voice languid with pleasure.

Henning chuckled, the sound echoing deep in his chest. “It exceeded expectations in every way.”

She really should get up, do...something, but he was so warm, and she really didn’t want to move. Henning’s cock throbbed urgently against her. She peered into his dark brown eyes.

“You didn’t come yet,” she said with a little smile. “I can help you with that.”

He shook his head. “It would be messy, and it’s going to get cold in here soon. I’ll take care of that later.”

“You’ll take care of it?” She tilted her head at him. “Alone?”

“I’m good at it,” he said, laughter in his voice.

Alya raised her eyebrows. How much lightness and humor did this man have, buried inside him? “I’d like to see that.”

His cock pulsed against her, and he groaned. Then a hint of a smile drew at the uninjured side of his mouth. “I bet you would.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“TIME TO WAKE UP,” said Henning, a little louder.

Alya still didn’t stir. As soon as her first meeting had ended, she’d crashed into bed and hadn’t moved since. He had let her sleep as long as he could, watching her from the chair by the window of their hotel room. Her long, blond hair was a halo around her face, and her full lips were parted. In another life, he would have woken her up with his lips, but not in this one.

Still, she wasn’t waking from his voice alone, so he stood up and crossed the room to her bed. Resting his hand on the bare, white wall, he bent down and brushed his fingers over her cheek.

“Sweetheart? We need to go.”

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she drew in a sleepy breath. Henning braced himself against the warmth swelling inside him. For years he had watched her through someone else’s lens, in magazines, on billboards, and through the Blackmore Inc. surveillance system. This was so different, so real, so raw. He had no words to understand what was happening inside him now that she had chosen him to be here. To protect her. To satisfy her. He’d devote himself to these tasks, keeping his past at bay, controlling this tightness in his chest, this swelling of something, something he wouldn’t name.

Alya blinked a couple times, brushing off sleep. Then she met his gaze, parted her lips and...smiled. She fucking smiled, her eyes dancing with lightness as she looked up at him. Coming out of sleep, unguarded, vulnerable, she smiled like he was exactly who she wanted to see when she awoke. The swelling inside him was threatening to burst.

“The time change is disorienting,” she said, seemingly unaware that his entire world was tilting. So he took a breath and let her warm voice pull him in. “I was hoping this wasn’t a dream.”

It was all happening so fast. When she parted her lips, his brain short-circuited. Kiss her. Kiss her. The temptation was so sharp and bare that it almost overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Not happening. This was for her, and only her. If they were going to spend the next couple days in close quarters, he needed to get this situation under control.

“Listen, about earlier,” he said. “About what happened in the car...”

Her cheeks turned a pale pink, and she propped herself up on her elbow. Her mouth was so temptingly close. “I kinda jumped on you. I’m sorry if I put you in a bad position. Again.”

“I didn’t mind that particular position at all. I was very into it,” he said with a laugh.

Alya smirked at his comment, then gave a sigh. “But we shouldn’t? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m happy to do that as many times as you want. Or anything else you’re interested in. That’s up to you.”

“I think I made it clear I’m interested.” She blinked at him. “Still, I sense a but coming.”

He blew out his breath. “The moment we walk out of the room, I’m your bodyguard.”

She tilted her head to the side and smiled a little. “You’re warning me that we won’t be sneaking off to try out one of those ice beds?”

“That sounds really fucking cold.”

“I understand.” Her smile faded. “Because I’m interfering with your job?”

Henning frowned. To be with someone physically scarred like him would make her—and him—the center of attention. Henning had watched her life in the media enough to see exactly how it would play out: grainy photos of them on the front of all the tabloids. And then what? With Alya’s more recent dates, the comments were pettier. But Henning was a big fucker with scars and little patience for people in general. After studying Nick Bancroft for three years, Henning knew how that bastard worked. He was almost sure the guy was a clinical narcissist. Nick still hadn’t forgotten that Alya left him, and he might use this chance to make a fresh dig about her unstable mental health or make up some story about how she called him again, begging to take her back, and use it as a reason to show up. Just the idea of it made his blood boil, but how the hell did he talk about this with her?

Henning blew out a breath and tried his best. “Look, you hired me so there was no drama on this trip. And I don’t want any...speculations on my watch.”

“I spent three years shaping my life around avoiding Nick. I turned down jobs because they required traveling to Los Angeles. I’ve hired a bodyguard to go to events, even when you were checking to make sure Nick was still across the Pacific. I’m done with that,” she said. “It’s true that I don’t want to attract too much attention to my personal life, but I’m not going to let that mean I can’t have one. It just means we need to be careful.”

He shook his head. What she was saying made sense. She wasn’t making decisions based on fear, and she was willing to take some risks. But what was the point of this risk? So he could hold her hand in the Icebar? Nope, not worth it.

Alya opened her mouth, as if she was going to argue with him, but she hesitated. Then understanding registered in her eyes. “You meant speculations about you,” she said softly.

He frowned. “I’m not concerned about that.”

“I am.” She blinked up at him, her sky-blue eyes clear and unwavering.

Then she bit her lip, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Focus.

“But if you’re not by my side, there will be other results, ones you might not like,” she said.

Like a hard-on from watching her all day long? He had already reconciled himself with that reality. He gave her a little smirk. “I can handle it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We can talk about it after you see what I mean.” She was looking at him, like she was assessing him. He leveled his gaze on her, letting her look her fill. Better if she saw him clearly from the beginning.

At last, she nodded. “Fine. But you’re okay with a little fun when it’s just the two of us?”

“Anything you want.” He touched her cheek. Her skin was so unbearably soft under his fingers.

She covered his hand with hers. “What do you want?”

He looked down at her, so close to him on this bed. She was waiting for his answer.

Finally he sighed and told her the truth. “I want you, any way I can have you.”

Her breath came out somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and the memory of the kiss in the car came crashing down on him. The memory of the sweet tenderness of her lips that so quickly burst into flames. Alya straddling him, her hands holding him so tight it felt like she’d never let go. And he wanted that again, fuck, how he wanted that. Badly. Just one moment of selfishness, one kiss because he wanted it. Henning put his knee on the bed next to her and leaned down, searching her expression. And, oh, that smile as he came close, more than an invitation, with a dizzying lightness that took his breath away.

He closed the last distance between them, his mouth on hers again, and she sighed—she sighed. This was too good to be real, but the ache inside was too strong for it to be otherwise. Henning licked the seam of her mouth, and she opened for him. She was here, solid under his hands, all soft lips and hungry explorations. The aching need, the gaping hole inside him opened right back up, and he couldn’t contain it. He gave her soft strokes of his tongue, and she matched them with her own. Then she reached up, threading her fingers in his hair, and pulled him down on top of her. They landed on the bed, him over her, laughing, kissing. God, yes. He could kiss her all day. Wait. No. She needed to be somewhere right now.

“Your schedule,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers. She nodded, her nose brushing against his. So intimate.

Mine. The thought was there before he could shove it back down, and he struggled to bury it, along with the surge of protectiveness that followed. Alya wasn’t his. She couldn’t be.

Time to turn it off. Time to be the person she needed. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Remember the fucking limits, Henning. If just kissing her was enough to loosen something inside, he needed to be really careful. Especially in a little hotel room. Where they’d be alone. Together. All. Night. Long.