Chapter 11: No Touching in Private

Freja's POV

He stood just inside the door with his coat still on and snow melting in his hair.

His eyes were different.

They had been dark and muffled every day since I met him, and tonight they were clear and grey-green and fixed on me.

"You stopped taking it," I said.

"Yesterday."

"Why?"

"You know why."

I did.

I could smell it on him, heat and cold air and something so raw it made the backs of my knees ache.

"The terms say no touching in private," I said.

"They do."

"Then you should go."

"Tell me to go," he said, "and I will."

I looked at his mouth.

I thought about the rink, and the boards, and his hand beside my head, and four inches I had wanted him to close.

"No touching in private, Alpha," I said, and stepped into him.

His coat hit the floor.

He caught my face in both hands and kissed me, and it was nothing like the first time.

The first time I had been half frozen, and he had been half drugged.

Now we were both awake.

He kissed me hungrily, and I kissed him back with my hands fisted in his shirt.

My back met the door, and he stopped.

"Your stitches," he said against my mouth.

"Don't you dare be careful."

"I'm going to be careful."

"Cade."

It was the first time I had said his name, and he made a sound low in his chest.

"Say it again," he said.

"Cade."

He lifted me, one arm under my thighs, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He carried me to the bed and laid me down on my side, so my back stayed clear of the mattress.

He pulled his shirt over his head.

Every scar I had seen on the rink was there, and he did not hide them.

He watched my face to see what I'd do.

I put my palm flat against the lowest ridge, and he shut his eyes.

"You said no asking about the back," he said hoarsely.

"I'm not asking," I said. "I'm touching."

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