He stood and pulled her up beside him. “Not for you, either,” he answered, both signing and speaking so she’d catch his words.
Hell, he even does ASL well. Is there anything he can’t do?
Micah had told her about the deaf friend he’d met in college, which was why he knew ASL so well. According to him, he hadn’t used the skills in years because his buddy had gotten cochlear implants and didn’t use ASL anymore. But he didn’t look rusty or hesitant. He signed confidently and with as much cockiness as he did everything else.
She could argue that plenty of things were impossible for her, but she was relieved just to have gotten through the experience of being back on the ice. For so many years, she’d been afraid that she wouldn’t be able to skate again. Whether the notion had been rational or not, she’d been too afraid to find out whether or not she’d lost her skills along with her hearing. The two things were intertwined: skating and music. Without being able to hear the notes, she’d assumed that she’d be unable to perform at the same level as before.
I’m out of practice, but I can work up to doing the more difficult jumps.
Tessa had done it once, and she knew she could do it again. Maybe she wouldn’t be of the same caliber as before. She was older, deaf, and hadn’t worked on any skating routines in years. But the raw ability was still there to be able to perform a good routine. She just needed time on the ice.
Her heart was still pounding with exertion and euphoria as she looked up at Micah and smiled. She was grateful to him for pushing her, making something she loved part of her life again.
The deliciously dangerous, hungry look in his eyes made her smile falter, her body start to clamor for something far more primal than a hug.
I can’t want him. He’s a Sinclair and I’m a washed-up former Olympic champion. He dates supermodels, for God’s sake. I can’t confuse his kindness for desire.
Tessa had fought her instincts for days now, and it was getting harder and harder not to remember Micah’s hard, muscular body completely nude. God, he’d been breathtakingly perfect, a flawless specimen of masculinity that wouldn’t leave her mind. Unfortunately, that image had never gone away, and when he looked at her like he wanted to have her for dinner, she was so damn tempted to throw herself at him and beg him to make a meal of her.
She froze, unable to break his gaze, the longing she felt reflected in his gorgeous dark eyes.
He can’t want me. He can’t want me. He can’t want me.
The mantra pounded in her head, but she met him halfway as his head lowered and he captured her mouth with his, blowing the chant straight from her brain.
He did want her right now, and she wanted him back.
Tessa moaned as his decadent embrace swept everything from her mind except getting closer, getting more of the sweet, assertive dominance of his mouth. His tongue probed demandingly, as though he wanted to own her. She opened to his commands, happily succumbing to the rampant pleasure that was Micah’s domination of her senses.
He was relentless as he freed her hair and sunk his fingers into the curls that sprang from their confinement, tilting her head with her unbound locks so he could plunder deeper.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Her body sang with sensual longing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling like she wanted to crawl inside him. Her hands speared into his hair, her heart pounding with excitement as the sensation of the coarse tendrils threaded through her fingers. Her world was quiet, which left her so much more focused on the sensations, making them so much more sensually delicious.
Closing her eyes, she allowed both sight and sound to be eliminated, leaving her only the feel of Micah. She let herself drown in his increasingly passionate embrace, her nipples hardening as he jerked her closer, molding her body against his harder form. Her core clenched hard as he put one strong hand on her ass and lifted her up until her pelvis was grinding into him, her legs wrapping around his waist.
He moved on his blades, but she scarcely noticed when he plopped her butt down on the wall of the rink, barely breaking his sensual assault as his lips trailed down the sensitive skin of her neck.
“More, Micah. I need more,” she whimpered, fisting his hair in desperation as his mouth left her skin. He pulled her head back to look at him.
Automatically, her eyes opened and she looked at his mouth. “I need to touch you, Tessa. I need to watch you come for me.”
The look in his eyes was insistent and feral. “Then touch me,” she pleaded. “Please.”
She couldn’t bear for the intense sensation to be over.
She needed . . .
She burned . . .
She had to have something to stop the fiery ache between her thighs, the painful puckering of her nipples, the fierce longing in her soul.
It had been so long since anyone had touched her intimately, and she’d never been overwhelmed by this kind of passion . . . ever.
The first touch of his fingers on her core wrenched a moan from deep inside her throat. Micah caressed her softly over the fabric of the skimpy material, then delved beneath it, baring her pussy as he shifted the fabric aside.
Tessa shivered as the cold air in the rink wafted between her thighs, the feeling chillingly erotic. Out of habit, she’d waxed, leaving her bare in preparation for wearing a skating skirt again. It left her feeling vulnerable and aroused as Micah stroked over that sensitive naked skin.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she tried to close her eyes, but he stopped until she opened them again. “Please.” It was the only word she could get out of her mouth. Her brain and body were senseless and greedy, wanting nothing except Micah’s hands on her.