Breaking the Ice by Esme Taylor
CHAPTER TEN
Reid
Hettie and I had finished what was possibly the best meal I’d ever eaten in my adult life. For the first time––possibly ever––I’d actually savored every morsel. So much of my life had been about survival that I had nearly forgotten how much there was to enjoy. For me, food was simply a way to fuel my body. I eat because I have to, but tonight, I had eaten for pleasure.
Not only had it been a wonderful meal, but it had also been homecooked for me by someone else simply because they wanted to do something nice for me. Hettie had no ulterior motive. She simply wanted to make me smile. And now, here we were, sitting on the sofa with a blanket over us, eating ice cream.
Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve let myself have a sweet treat since I was a teenager.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Hettie instructed. “I will give you a taste of each flavor and then when we are done, you can choose your favorite.”
“Okay, I’ll keep them closed,” I assured her, sneaking a small peek.
“Hey, you opened your eyes. You won’t get the full ice cream experience if your eyes are open,” she chuckled.
I laughed, closing my eyes once again. When she was satisfied that I wasn’t looking, Hettie placed the first mouthful of ice cream to my lips. I allowed the flavors of each to melt on my tongue, ensuring I got the full experience. And despite not knowing which was my favorite, I decided what I liked the most was the sound of her laughter as she watched me eat.
“I think it’s your turn to try them,” I said, taking the spoon and bowl from her hands. “This time, you close your eyes.”
She laughed as she reluctantly closed her eyes. “I already know which flavor is my favorite. Always has been and always will be mint choc chip.”
I slipped the spoon filled with mint ice cream into her mouth and watched as she lets it melt before swallowing it down. Eyes closed, she licked her lips and ran her top teeth over her bottom lip, biting down as she moaned in pleasure. The sound making my cock swell and throb.
I don’t think I had ever wanted anyone as much as I wanted her right then. But I also knew she wouldn’t take what I had to offer. Hettie wasn’t the type of woman to just want one night. She was the type to expect more.
And that terrified me.
With her eyes still closed, I slipped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, catching some of it on her lip. Running my thumb over the ice cream, I gently pressed it into her mouth so she could lick it off. Her tongue lightly flicked over the end of my thumb, before sucking firmly.
What little self-control I had left was crumbling, my mind racing with thoughts of her. I wonder what her mouth would feel like over the head of my cock. A groan escaped me as I imagined the warmth of her. As if she’d heard my thoughts, her eyes flew open, and she stared at me. To my surprise, her eyes looked more grey than green, desire dancing in their depths.
She took the bowl and spoon from my hands and placed them on the coffee table next to us before edging closer to me, placing her warm, soft hand on my chest. Leaning in, she gently brushed her soft lips over mine and for a moment, the world felt like it had tipped on its axis.
The kiss was gentle at first, growing in intensity as her lips parted. My tongue tangling with hers, exploring each other. I could taste the ice cream she'd just eaten and the heat of her arousal on her lips.
Desperate to feel her body against mine, I pulled her in close. And as I did so, a soft moan escaped her as she moved her leg to straddled me. I was lost in the feeling of her, my rock-hard erection rubbing against her. Our bodies were so close that I could feel her warmth and wetness through the thin material of her leggings. It took everything I had to stop myself ripping her clothes off and sinking into her right there on the sofa.
The sweet scent of her skin teased my senses as our bodies ground against one another. Lips locked, her hands cupped both sides of my face, her fingers threading through my hair. My skin tingled and my heart raced from such an intimate act––something I had intentionally avoided my whole life.
Suddenly, I began to spiral. What am I doing? I can’t do this. I can’t risk letting someone in, only to lose them again. That’s when another thought struck me. I can never tell her what I’ve done without her hating me.
Gathering every ounce of self-control I could muster, I pulled back and lifted her off me, my body aching for one more moment with her. “I’m so sorry, Etta. I can’t do this,” I whispered, shaking my head and quickly standing to collect the bowls and glasses, hoping to distract my hands, so I didn’t reach out to touch her again.
When I returned from the kitchen, she was gone and I was left alone, staring at the spot on the sofa where we had just been sitting, desperately wishing I could just be normal for once in my life.