Steel & Ice (12 page)

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Authors: Emily Eck

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #personal growth, #motorcycles, #gritty, #strong heroine

BOOK: Steel & Ice
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J continued his eyebrow arch
as if urging me to continue. “Things were great when I was a little
kid. I don’t know when they got bad. I guess it was slow process.
She’s controlling, and expected the moon from me and my sister. It
didn’t matter what I did, it wasn’t ever good enough. And she made
sure to let me know
every single
time
that I wasn’t good enough. It was a
constant mind fuck. Bring home second place in science fair and
she’d ask why I didn’t get first. Come back with an A and she’d ask
why it wasn’t an A+. I gave up trying. And the more she tried to
control me, the more I rebelled. There wasn’t one big event that
fucked me up. It was a slow fuck up. I was pretty much running the
streets 24/7 by the time I was sixteen, squatting at friends’
houses most of the time. I left my parents’ house for good when I
was seventeen.”

J leaned against the kitchen counter and
took a drink of his beer. “The streets can be rough.”


Indeed.”


What kind of stuff were you
into on the streets?”

Yep, that was it. Sharing time was over.
“Crazy shit. Stupid shit. It’s the past. Let’s enjoy the
present.”

As if taking my hint, J topped off my glass
and grabbed another beer. He led me into the sun porch. The sun was
just starting to set over the pond. It truly was a beautiful sight.
I could watch this every evening. Sometimes it seemed the world was
so full of hate and ugliness. It had dominated my life for so long,
and it seemed like I was just starting to make it out of a hole I
didn’t know I had been in. In that moment, I realized changes were
happening in my life. I don’t know when it started, but things
didn’t seem quite as ugly as they were five years ago. That
realization made the moment all the more beautiful.

We sat on the love seat, forced to be
pressed up against one another. J grabbed my legs and twirled them
around to set on his lap. “Nice Jordans,” he said as he removed
them. “Oh, nice dinosaur socks too,” he laughed.


Don’t hate the T-Rex with
his little arms. He’ll bust your—ooooh that feels good.” I closed
my eyes as J rubbed my feet. Despite the enormity of his hands, he
used the perfect amount of pressure as he massaged from heel to
toe. Had a man ever rubbed my feet before? I’m guessing not if I
had to think so hard about it.


So you are twenty-two,
almost twenty-three. You cook. Love the arcade. Are a picky wine
drinker. And you have a sister. What else?”

I took a long drink of my wine. “Uh, I’m
tall.”

J let out an honest laugh. I took another
long drink, emptying my glass. “Yes, you are tall. I like that
you’re tall. You and your friend make quite a pair at Eight Oh
Eight when you’re in heels. You two are kinda hard to miss.”

I shrugged, “I used to hate being tall. Now
I love it. My size has saved me a number of times. I can’t imagine
being five feet tall and getting out of some of the situations I’ve
been in.”

J gave me that look again. The cog turning
look. I diverted, “Want another beer?” I stood up, and walked into
the kitchen. He nodded and started to rub his shoulder. Always the
left one it seemed.

I returned with a beer and a newly filled
glass of wine. “So look, all this getting to know you bullshit is
screaming starfish. You ask me a question and I’ll ask you, but can
we keep it light?” I asked in a cautious voice, not wanting to
sound like a bitch.


Of course. You wanna puff
while we ask non-starfish questions?”


That sounds good,” I
replied smiling, my apprehension starting to subside. He grabbed a
bag and a beautiful glass sherlock from under the coffee table. It
was obviously a hand blown pipe. It was shaped like the pipe
Sherlock Holmes smoked. The glass was a mixture of blue and purple
swirls. I grabbed it from him, admiring it.


Got it from a hippy who
owed me a favor.”


Gotta love them hippies,” I
laughed. “Oh look!” I said, pointing out the window and passing him
the pipe. The sun was just starting to move below the horizon. J
packed the bowl and passed it to me with a lighter. He put his arm
around me and pulled me into him. I fit perfect in the crook of his
arm, my head against his chest. I felt so small next to his huge
frame. It was an odd, but pleasurable feeling. So far, every inch
of him that I had touched was solid. It made me want to touch all
of him. I puffed the bowl and passed it to J. He grabbed it with
his free hand.


Light for me?” he asked,
holding his lips to the pipe, as I lit the bowl with the lighter.
We continued smoking and enjoying the sunset in silence until it
was dark, and the bowl was empty. After the sun set, we continued
sitting, both lost in our thoughts, mesmerized by the beautiful
sight we had just witnessed. It was an easy silence, which was rare
for me. Silence could be awkward, yet I usually refused to break it
with meaningless dribble. If the other person couldn’t come up with
something to say, then I figured there wasn’t anything worth
talking about. This wasn’t like that. It was as if nothing needed
to be said. We were just existing in the moment, talking
unnecessary.

Curled up against J, his chin resting on top
of my head that lay on his chest, I felt like the world had
disappeared. Just like at the arcade. I guess the whole day had
felt like that. Nothing mattered except the moment we were living.
The past was over, and the future was unwritten and it didn’t need
to be analyzed. There was no need to be two steps ahead, just in
case. Just in case of what? I didn’t know. I had always felt the
need to be a few steps ahead in order to feel safe. I couldn’t
remember a moment like the one I was feeling where I could just…
be. Did J feel the same way? He seemed so comfortable in his own
skin. Did he get nervous?

J standing up shook me from my reverie. He
went to the kitchen, and came back with the bottle of Merlot and
another beer. He nodded towards my glass. I held it out for him to
refill.


So we got lost in the
sunset and the bowl. Can we still have non-starfish time?” he
asked, passing me a can of cashews to munch on. The Rock Chicks
would be so impressed.

I nodded, tossing a handful of nuts on my
mouth. “Those are some good nuggs. From the hippy too?” The high
quality of his weed hadn’t gone unnoticed.


Nah, I got other sources.
So question one, summer or winter?”

I held my finger against my lips, as if
thinking deeply. “Spring. You?”


Summer, so I can ride my
bike.”


Yes, the bike. We need to
talk about that later. Question two, favorite song.”


You like the bike? Depends
on my mood. When I’m revved up, anything Rage Against the Machine.
When I’m relaxing, Motown or Maxwell.”


I love the bike. And I
fucking ADORE Maxwell! Chilling or otherwise,” I
replied.

J grabbed a remote from below the coffee
table (what all was down there?) and hit a button.


What kind of music are you
feelin’?”


Is that your question?” I
joked. “Anything. Put it on shuffle.”


No, that’s not my question.
That was me being a good host,” he winked, as some kind of rock
music began to play. I cringed. “Not a fan of rock?”


I like classic rock. Some
90s rock. Hip Hop and Neosoul too. I like a lot of different stuff.
It’s not really about the type of music, but the
musician.”


Ok, next question, give me
three totally different musicians you like.” Oh that was a good
one.

I thought for a second before answering.
“Pink Floyd, Parliment, and Jay-Z.”


I already knew Pink Floyd
after your Roger Waters speech,” he smiled. I was feeling a little
fucked up on the wine and weed.


Want more? That was just
the tip of the iceberg. We haven’t even begun to discuss Roger
Water’s solo stuff. He
was
Pink Floyd. When he left, it was just bullshit.
Fuck the Division Bell.”


Steady tiger. I don’t
disagree. Although I think you aren’t giving David Gilmour a fair
shake.”

You know how old Looney Toons cartoon’s eyes
would pop out of their head? I think mine did that. “What? Fuck
David Gilmour! He couldn’t even sing, let alone carry on what Roger
Waters created Pink Floyd to be.” It was either the wine, or J’s
incredible lack of knowledge when it came to Roger Water’s
greatness that had me sweating. I unzipped my hoodie, discarding it
on the floor. I pulled my legs up against me and turned toward J.
“My turn. We are moving into dangerous territory. You say the wrong
thing, and I might just have to leave,” I joked. “Dave Chappelle or
Jimmy Fallon?”


Dave Chappelle. Hands
down.”


Ding ding ding!” I cried,
touching my finger to my nose. “Fuck yo couch!!” I yelled, reciting
a classic line from the infamous Rick James sketch.

J came back with, “Samuel L Jackson. It’ll
get ya drunk. No, I can’t stop yelling, ’cause that’s how I talk!”
It seemed J was well versed in his Chappelle sketches. I wish I had
more hands, so I could give him four thumbs up!

I laughed so hard, tears started to roll
down my cheeks as he recited another one of my favorite sketches.
Holy hell, this man could recite Chappelle sketches. Had I stumbled
on Mr. Perfection? Tall, dark, handsome, and a Chappelle fan? I’d
hit jack pot. And I was definitely drunk.


Does Wayne Brady gotta
choke a bitch?” he asked. Oh god, I was going to pee my pants. He
knew all the best lines. Chris and I loved Chappelle sketches, and
recited them often, usually drunk and inappropriately
loud.

We were both holding our stomachs from
laughing so hard when Massive Attack’s Group Four came on. I
realized the speakers were remotely attached to the iPod. This man
didn’t fuck around with his technology. “I love this song!” I
yelled. J pressed a button so the whole album would play.


I need a beer,” he said,
standing up. He put his hand out and pulled me up. “Grab the wine.
I’ll heat up some food.”

I followed him into the kitchen. He pulled
off his hoodie and stood in a white T that barely grazed the waist
of his pants. I could see the V from his abs dipping into his jeans
as he reached up to grab some bowls off the top of the
refrigerator. I licked my lips. Shit but he was hot. I was in jeans
and a wife beater, having lost the hoodie in the sun room, yet I
was burning up. It felt like suddenly all my senses were hyper
aroused.


You like alfredo?” he
asked, oblivious to the dirty thoughts assaulting my brain. I moved
in autopilot, not thinking, just acting upon my impulses. I grabbed
the bowls out of his hands and tossed them on the counter, reaching
up to grab his neck and pull him down to me. God he was so tall! He
didn’t miss a beat as he brought his lips to mine. I sucked his
bottom lip, holding it for a second between my teeth before letting
go. He groaned and grabbed me around the waist, hoisting me up onto
the counter. I shoved my hands into his hair. We were feral as I
pulled his hair, and brought myself to the edge of the counter,
thus pulling him between my parted legs. I could feel his erection
as I slammed against him.

Massive Attack’s Angel began playing as I
broke our kiss to pull his shirt over his head. We were both
breathing hard as I took a moment to gaze upon his sculpted chest,
abs, arms. Everything above the belt was hard, and from what I
could tell, everything below the belt was too. I ran my fingers
over the grooves that made up his six—no eight pack. He wrapped my
hair around his hand, gently pulling it back to expose my neck. I
offered it willingly. He licked and kissed up my neck and up to my
ear, sucking on my ear lobe and holding it between his teeth.
“Fuck,” I groaned, overflowing with sensations I hadn’t felt in a
long time, maybe ever. He reached his other hand up the back of my
tank, and unclasped my bra in one swift movement. Again, we broke
from each other as he pulled my bra and shirt off.


Fuck, that feels good,” I
whispered as he traced his tongue around my nipple before sucking
it and then biting it. “Harder. Bite it harder.” He grabbed the
other nipple and aggressively kneaded it with one hand as his mouth
bit and sucked on the other. “Yeah, like that. Oh god, that feels
good J.”

I grabbed fist fulls of his hair and pulled
his lips back to mine. I ran my hands over his chest and my tongue
began a downward descent from his neck to his shoulder. I wrapped
my legs tighter around him, wanting as much of our bodies to be
touching as possible. “Shit. I feel like, like—I just want to bite
you,” I growled. I squeezed my legs tighter around him, grinding
myself into his crotch. The feelings inside me were intense. Like
there was a tiger in my body clawing to get out so it could devour
J. He must’ve felt it too, because I swear I heard him roar as he
held me tight to his body.

He put his hands under my ass and lifted me
up. I tightened my legs around him. My eyes were closed as he
continued kissing my mouth and I felt us moving. I don’t recall
going up the stairs but we must have because we were in his
bedroom. He tossed me down on his king sized bed. There were
speakers in his room that were also connected to the iPod. The song
had changed to Dissolved Girl at some point.

I leaned back on my elbows and watched him
take his shoes off. I sucked my bottom lip as he undid his belt,
and took his pants and boxers off in one swoop. He leaned a knee
into the bed and crawled towards me. I undid the button of my jeans
and he tugged them off, leaving me in red panties. Red to match my
Jordans. He grabbed my leg, and kissed the inside of my ankle,
slowly making his way up to my knee and then my thigh. I threw my
head back, and a random stream of cuss words came out of my mouth.
He licked the edges of my panties and then moved on to the other
side. My clit was throbbing for him to touch it, lick it, anything,
but he started kissing down my other leg.

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