11. Winter

"So,let me get this straight. You don't want to date Trent enough that you are pretending to already have a boyfriend, and the person you chose to pretend to date is Asher Martino?"

I'd had to tell Selena in the end. Her not knowing was too much of a liability around my father and Trent.

"Yep, that's right."

She shook her head. "Girl, do you have a death wish? Are you a masochist?"

Maybe.

I just shrugged.

"He's an Ice God, a mean, hot testament to male perfection…you don't want to get on his bad side. He'll make your life miserable here," Selena continued.

"I didn't really have a long line of applicants for the position. I could only think of one person to ask, and now I'm in it…I have to get him to agree." I spun away from the mirror and struck a pose. "How do I look?"

We were in the bathrooms at the ice rink, along with about fifty other girls, all pushing in to see in the mirrors.

Selena gave me a critical once-over and then nodded. "Like Asher Martino's girlfriend."

"Perfect."

I turned around. I was wearing a hockey jersey with Asher's number and his name across the back. Eve had stolen it from his room for me. It was a standard "girlfriend's only" move. I paired the jersey with tight jeans and had even painted a small crest of the Hellions' logo on my cheek.

"I don't know what kind of game you and my brother are playing, but I'm putting my money on you. Give him hell." Eve had been positively gleeful about me messing with her brother.

Oh, I intend to.

The rink was packed when we got inside to the seating area. We moved to our row, and as soon as we sat, a ripple of whispers started up around us. I took a deep mental breath and lowered my jacket, showing off Asher's jersey.

"You're all kinds of exciting lately," Selena remarked, enjoying every second of the attention.

Down on the rink, the ice girls were warming up the crowd and the players were doing their pregame exercises. Asher was standing with Coach Eric. He was wearing his jersey with his future number, for when he could finally play, and he and the coach were in deep conversation.

I rubbed my hands together, trying to get a little warmth there. I was cold, despite how packed the place was. Then again, it was January at an ice rink. Cold seemed right.

It was funny. Until recently, I'd never really cared about or even noticed the cold. I was the Ice Queen, after all. Cold, alone, isolated, aloof. It felt comforting. The control over my surroundings and the people who'd intrude in on my solitude was soothing.

Tangling with Asher Martino had changed that. I felt freed from my bindings, like a pinned butterfly that had suddenly shaken free from its board and realized it wasn't dead after all. It was a frightening and odd feeling. It felt dangerous. Like an addiction I couldn't afford to have.

"Shit, he's seen you. He's definitely seen you," Selena muttered suddenly.

I barely glanced at her before I felt a looming presence at my side. I looked up. Silence fell around us. It felt like the entire rink was waiting to see what was going to happen between Asher and his new girlfriend. Asher loomed over me.

"Nice jersey, Ice Queen." Asher's tone was hard, tightly controlled. He was pissed off.

Well, I'd expected as much.

I raised my chin. "Thanks, it's my boyfriend's."

Selena snorted with laughter beside me. Asher's eyes held mine as he lowered himself to a crouch next to my seat. I was sitting at the end of the aisle. There was no one to act as a buffer between us.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you win that easily, baby?" His voice was low, just for our ears. He didn't want a scene before the game any more than I wanted him to rip his jersey off me and throw me out of the rink.

"You're being unreasonable. We can help each other," I murmured, keeping my smile in place.

"I'm not going to help you," he replied and leaned in, brushing his lips against my cheek.

His whisper sent shivers over my entire body.

"I'm going to ruin you, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself, DeLaurie."

Applause detonated around us, fans cheering for a new and exciting romance for one of the campus Ice Gods.

Asher turned and gave a small salute to the crowd, heading back to the coach's bench.

"Well, that didn't go as badly as it could have. Maybe he's secretly into you," Selena mused.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and watched the players getting ready to start. The buzzer sounded, and the game exploded.

"I'm going to ruin you." I shuddered. What the hell had I just started? I had no idea, but one thing I did know. It was too late to go back.

The Hellions won, a stunning seven to three. At the end of the game, the girls around us swarmed me with questions about Asher. I'd had the whole game to rethink my strategy, and I had to talk to him. Maybe I'd gone about this all wrong. I should just explain to him why I needed this. That I was scared of Trent and the life my father imagined for me, already barreling toward me at top speed.

But being vulnerable like that had never come easy. When I thought about lying my heart bare, I was once again that seven-year-old, my hand in a box of cereal, hidden in the pantry, listening to the person I loved tell the world how stupid I was. Trusting. Na?ve. Delusional.

After the game, I got a message from an unknown number.

Wait for me after the game. We need to talk. A

Maybe he'd decided to help me after all? I waited around, even sending Selena away. The rink emptied slowly. Asher appeared just as the door slammed shut behind the last of the crowd. Coach had gone, and all the players were changing, presumably. It was quiet. His footsteps rang out as he walked toward me. I tried to make out his mood. It was impossible.

I wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. "You wanted to talk?" I managed to get out.

He strode up to me and didn't stop when he reached my seat. He bowled right into me, his arms going under my legs and hoisting me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded with as much dignity as I could, considering my head was dangling down his back.

A harsh slap to my ass took my next protest from my mouth.

"Shh, brat. Don't make this worse on yourself," he instructed firmly. He carried me onto the ice, walking sure-footedly toward one of the goals.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed, my face feeling like an overripe tomato and full of blood.

"I could ask you the same, but I don't have to. You're asking to be put in your place, like we talked about…you want someone to spank the brat out of you. You could have just asked, Winter. No need to be so coy."

"Asher," I started and bit off a yelp when he suddenly put me down. I fought for balance when my shoes hit the ice. Loafers weren't exactly the best footwear for walking on an ice rink.

My hands were yanked above my head, and Asher held them tightly in one hand while his other went to his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you asked for," he said, and pulled a rope out his pocket. Not just any rope. A premade nautical knot.

I fought harder, but he quickly looped it around my wrists and a metal goalpost, and then yanked. The slipknot fell perfectly into place, anchoring me to the unyielding pole, my arms stretched taut over my head.

"Very mature," I sneered at him. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he could hear it.

"I don't think you're in a position to judge anyone else's maturity level, you spoiled brat, and we both know it." Asher took a step back and fixed me with a look.

I tugged at the knot, even knowing it would only tighten it. My feet slid, and I nearly fell.

"Can't you skate? You look like a newborn deer on the ice," he remarked, raking his gaze over my struggling legs.

"I'm more a tennis girl," I ground out.

He chuckled. "Of course you are. But a nice serve and country clubs aren't going to help you now. I fucking warned you, Winter, and you've chosen not to listen."

"Because you're making the wrong choice! I'll pay you — name your price…I'll give you anything you want?—"

"Anything? Be careful with your words, Ice Queen, I'm not the sort of man who takes them lightly, and I'm no gentleman either…" He stepped in and cupped my cheek. "If you offer me anything, I'll take everything."

I fought to breathe normally. This guy had a dangerous effect on my internal organs. I couldn't breathe, my heart was too fast, my skin sensitive and too aware of how close he was.

His words sent a dark thrill through me. There was no doubt what he was implying, and I had no idea why I wasn't verbally flaying him for even suggesting it. Because you're curious, too. What would it be like to be kissed by someone like Asher, touched…taken, wholly and completely? Resoundingly fucked by a man who didn't care if it hurt? I was horrified at my own thoughts, and yet, the curiosity remained.

"Well…fair's only fair," I murmured, damning myself. "I don't lose, remember? I don't mean to start now."

Dark amusement tinted Asher's piercing gaze. His lips tilted up in a smirk. Damn it.

"I'm impressed by how desperately you need to pretend to have a boyfriend. So desperate that you'll even lower yourself to your knees for me, beg and crawl…whatever I want from you, right?" His breath prickled against my skin; he was so close. His hand ran through my hair and then trailed down to circle my throat.

"You'll put on that tiny cheerleading skirt you used to wear in high school, the one that made all the boys stare, and climb on my lap, bare-assed, while I play video games with my friends, or watch a hockey game, no matter who's watching?" His fingers gently squeezed my neck. "Then you'll get down between my thighs and catch my cum on your tongue when I'm done with you, swallow every last drop and thank me afterwards?"

My cheeks were burning. His words were filthy and shocking and the hottest thing I'd ever heard. No one had ever spoken to me like this. No one. His dark eyes drank in my oscillating emotions.

His hand left my throat and slid up to my lips. He pushed his thumb inside my mouth. "Show me what a good little brat you'd be at sucking me off."

My whole body felt like it was igniting with humiliation, but Asher's steady gaze spurred me on. Another test. Another way to score points. I wouldn't be the first one to blink. In this game we were playing, I meant to win no matter what. Failure wasn't an option.

I knew he expected me to blanch. To get shy, or embarrassed, and he'd get to score a point. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. I ran my tongue around the pad of his thumb and hollowed my cheeks. I sucked hard, and he hissed. I went back to running my tongue around the tip of his digit and then up and down the length.

After a moment, he gripped my chin and pressed down on my tongue, silencing any possible sound I could have made.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was your first time sucking anything in that rude mouth of yours."

My eyes gave me away. He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, and then moved his thumb, sinking it further into my mouth, going nearly all the way to the back. I gagged, the invasion frightening at first. The rest of his hand still gripped my jaw, locking me in place. His thumb thrust lewdly between my lips, finger-fucking my mouth. Spit gathered at the corners of my lips, trailing down my chin. It was messy and ugly. I wanted to wipe it away, but I couldn't do anything but take it. There was a freedom in that feeling that I never would have expected. Asher's gaze ran over me like his eyes were memorizing every detail.

"If this mouth is a virgin, then I can guess about the rest."

He pulled his thumb from my mouth and smeared my spit across my cheek like he was wiping his hand dry. It was degrading and infuriating, but again, there was nothing I could do about it.

"But even with the added bonus of popping that overripe, prissy cherry, I'll pass."

"What?!" I blurted out. Sure, this was embarrassing, and confusing, but it had seemed like Asher was talking himself into helping me. I was about to win.

"I told you that I never lose, DeLaurie, and I'm not starting now. But I'll give you an A for effort… a couple of hundred people might hear about this jersey stunt. Well done. Good try."

"Thanks," I muttered and raised my chin. "I'm just getting started."

He grinned. "I expect nothing less. Crushing you isn't fun if it's too easy, after all. Keep up the good work." He stepped back and surveyed me critically. "My jersey really looks good on you, and since you're so desperate to wear it…"

He crowded against me before I could twist away. His hands went around my waist, and I tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was hopeless.

Cold air licked at my thighs as Asher tugged down my jeans.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising frantically as he got my jeans to my ankles, pinning my legs together.

"Fair's only fair. You wanted to wear my jersey, so wear it…and only it. Have a good night, Your Majesty."

Just like that, he shot me a wicked grin, turned on his heel, and walked away.