Dare on Ice - SR Grey by Grey S.R

Author:Grey, S.R.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S.R. Grey
Published: 2021-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

Hooked

I’m done denying what is right before me. I have to admit the truth—Bettina has me hooked, just like the fish she caught.

I know I shouldn’t, but I want to kiss her right now.

What to do, what to do…

Ah, fuck it.

Just this once, I let go.

Leaning down and touching my lips to hers, I kiss her.

It’s a soft brush at first, a gentle to and fro. But when she lets out a sultry sigh and slides her arms up around my neck, I go all in.

I kiss her like I mean it, which I really fucking do.

I’ve wanted to do this since the night we met.

Bettina opens her mouth, and our tongues touch.

Jesus.

She groans.

I groan.

I could kiss her for hours.

But right as I’m thinking of doing exactly that, the fucking clouds that have been threatening rain for hours let go full force.

One minute we’re kissing, and the next we’re thoroughly drenched.

Breaking apart, Bettina sputters, “Holy freaking rainstorm.”

“Right?” Grabbing the cooler, tackle box, the bait, and our lines, I shout over the pouring deluge, “Let’s get out of here!”

“Yes, let’s.” She reaches for the tackle box, since I’m having trouble juggling everything. “Here, I’ll carry that,” she offers.

Handing it to her, I say, “Thanks.”

We take off for the cabin, alternating between jogging and walking fast on the slippery parts of the muddy trail.

We’re so preoccupied with navigating the mess, not to mention getting soaked, that neither of us says a word, not one thing, about what just happened at the stream.

At the end of the trail and with the cabin in sight, we make a full-out run for it.

I reach the porch first, but Bettina is right behind me, scurrying up the steps just as I’m setting down the gear.

She plops the tackle box next to the poles, bait, and cooler, then starts trying to wring out her wet, white T-shirt.

“I’m trying to dry off a little before we go in,” she explains.

“Yeah, same.” I wring out my own T-shirt, then open the front door. “Hold up a sec. I have towels in the closet just inside the doorway. Let me grab a few.”

“Okay.” She nods, pausing, the crumpled hem of her shirt in her hand.

I take a long look at her. She’s so fucking sexy soaking wet. Her tee is clinging to her body, and I can see her skin underneath. If she didn’t have on a bra, I’d see even more.

Enough perving. The poor woman is soaking wet, as am I.

Shaking my head and returning to my senses, I lean inside and grab four big, thick towels from the closet.

“Here you go.” I hand two to Bettina.

“Thanks,” she says as she begins drying off.

I do the same as the downpour continues, the pounding on the porch roof growing fiercer and fiercer.

“Good thing we made it back when we did.” She swipes her face with a towel. “As bad as it was, it’s getting much worse.”

“It is,” I agree.

After drying to the point where we’re no longer completely soaked, we go inside.

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