Page 79 of Ice Me Out

I dropped into bed and climbed under the covers with my late-night treat. I was in the middle of responding to Monica’s text message about me needing to lock Hart down when the man of the hour sauntered out of the bathroom. He was still wet with a towel hung low, exposing rock-hard abs, tattoos, and a dark happy trail.

He looked like the definition of sex, and there I was looking like a goofball with a chocolate chip cookie hanging out of my mouth.

“Like what you see, Sugar?” he teased when he caught me shamelessly ogling him. I scoffed.

The nerves of this fine-ass man.

“Next time, come out here with some clothes on.”

For a second, he gazed at me in disbelief before his lips slid into a wide smile.

“Next time, huh? Sounds like I’m no longer banned from your apartment.”

I shoved another cookie into my mouth and spoke around it.

“Yeah, well, I accidentally slipped and revealed your identity to my roommate. Don’t worry, she’s sworn to secrecy. She wouldn’t tell a soul.”

He shrugged lazily.

“It was bound to happen. Plus, DeAndre and Marlon know who you are,” he said, tossing his hair towel into my hamper.

I grinned knowingly. I was about to get under this man’s skin—fuck that—his entire exoskeleton.

“Oh? How is my husband doing?”

That soft, boyish smile of his melted off his face faster than a snow cone in hell. It was replaced with a frigid frown that tightened his jaw.

“He’s alive… for now,” he chewed out as he slid on clean boxer briefs after discarding his towel.

I pressed further because I enjoyed seeing Hart crashing out and feral over me. Was it a little toxic? Probably. Did I care? Hell no.

“Don’t be like that, Sweet Hart,” I said, throwing back the cover for him. I waited until he dropped down into bed with me to say, “There’s enough of me to go around.”

I winced when he playfully bit my shoulder.

“I’m not falling for it, Verydian.”

“Falling for what?” I asked innocently.

“You’re trying to bait me.”

“I’m not trying; you already took the bait.”

He propped himself up on an elbow and opened his mouth for a cookie. I shoved my fingers in his mouth instead and hissed when he bit me again.

“Here! Damn!” I complained, foisting a cookie at him.

“Actually, I’m in the mood for a different type of cookie,” he said with a devious smirk.

I rolled my eyes. “Quit playing and take this cookie.”

He begrudgingly accepted the cookie and rolled onto his back.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” he declared.

“What’s up?”

“Tell me about your super harem of athletes.”