Page 147 of Secret Obsession
Maybe that’s why I was drawn to Knox. I relished the competitive spirit—although it did get exhausting after a while. This little flash is the first sign I’ve seen of it in Miles. Although, to be fair, I’ve been focusing on other things.
Or maybe it’s more correct to say I haven’t been focusing at all.
I put my hands on his shoulders, and he leans in—as if to help me, maybe? Or he could just want to get closer.
Either way, when I push him back, away he goes.
I step out after him, my muscles tensing. My skating knowledge could’ve gone out the window, and I wobble for the briefest second. But then my blade steadies in the ice, and I push off. Muscle memory takes over, and I skate in a wide arc around Miles.
He watches me with the weirdest look on his face. I pick up speed, enjoying the rush of wind against my face. And then laughter booms behind me, and a grin splits me open.
“Better run,” he calls.
I squeak and pour on the speed. The sound of him behind me douses me in adrenaline. I lean into my turn, following the curve of the wall and round the goal. But Miles is there waiting for me, and I skid to a halt. My blades create a shower of ice that hits his skates, his legs.
Whoops.
His gaze is hot. “You aren’t one of those girls who totter around and can’t figure out how to pick their feet up off the ice.”
“No.”
He smiles—then stops. “Did my brother teach you?”
I make a face. “He never took me out on the ice.”
“His loss.”
He glides toward me and captures my waist before I can skate away. I’m still at the same height disadvantage as when we’re in regular shoes, and I watch his expression.
“Did you want to teach me how to skate, Whiteshaw?” I tease. I loop my fingers in his belt and tug him even closer. Until his body is pressed to mine. “Or do you like knowing that there’s some things you don’t have to teach me?”
“I can think of a few things you still haven’t learned,” he muses.
I shiver, my brow rising. “Like what?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for your final lesson, Ms. Reed.” He guides me backward. “But you do need to be punished.”
My jaw drops, and my hands fall to his wrists. “For what?”
“Sassing.”
He reaches behind me and pushes open a door. I glance over my shoulder, and my cheeks heat when he lifts me into the penalty box.
I fight my smile. “How long is your power play?”
Miles closes us in, crowding me back against the glass. “Hmmm… until you scream my name so loud, it echoes around the arena.”
My breath catches. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m going to take my time eating your magic cunt, and you’ll be crying to your god—me.”
“Oh.”
He smirks. “Yeah.Oh.”
45
WILLOW
