Melting Ice(12)

Syn blinked and glanced around at the strings of white fairy lights draped overhead, creating a romantic atmosphere. When had darkness fallen? She’d been so deep in thought she missed the sunset. The waitress set a cup of coffee along with a slice of tiramisu in front of her. She didn’t remember ordering dessert.

Ice silently sipped his coffee and watched her. When she met his laser blue gaze, he tipped his head slightly.

“Welcome back.” He shifted his chair closer. “Want to talk about it?”

Syn shook her head, attempting to shake off the oddly disjointed sensation as the present slowly settled in around her. She wasn’t sure where her mind had traveled or for how long. “Not really.”

He accepted that without complaint or pressing. Picking up a fork, he scooped up some of the decadent dessert and held it toward her.

Syn opened her mouth, closing her lips over the fork, never breaking eye contact. The flavors of velvety mocha, sweet pastry, rich coffee, and a tantalizing hint of liquor exploded across her tongue. Her toes curled, and a soft sigh passed her lips as Ice pulled the fork free.

Oh, she liked it when he got playfully seductive. Two could play, and she was definitely up for some provocative fun. Forgoing the fork, she swiped a finger through the creamy top layer and extended it. His hum of anticipation wafted across her hand as his lips parted and he drew the digit into the warmth of his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and sucking at the sweet confection. The heated moisture pulling at her finger sparked a corresponding tug in her lower belly.

Slowly drawing back, he released her finger and dipped his own into the dessert. The exchange continued, casual seduction quickly turning into urgent need. It wasn’t long before she ached for him, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid, a fine layer of sweat covering her skin, reflecting the fire burning in her blood.

“Ice,” she moaned. “I need.”

His hand shot up into the air. “Check.”

No sooner did the waitress hand him the bill than he pulled out a wad of cash, handed over several bills along with a generous tip and rushed Syn back to the boat. He had the lines untied and castoff before she’d even settled onto the padded seat.

“Long cruise, was it, sailor?”

His desire-filled gaze pinned her to the chair. “Always too long without you, babe.”

As the boat cleared the no wake zone, he went full throttle, the loud roar of the engines making conversation impossible. He didn’t go far, turning into a secluded alcove within a few minutes. She wasn’t surprised. He always had a plan.

Syn took a deep breath and allowed the quiet serenity to flow through her. With the engines off, she could hear water softly lapping at the hull and the hum of crickets from the shore carried on the tropical breeze. Moonlight glinted off sparkling water and sand of the small island surrounding them on three sides. It was very peaceful and unlikely that they’d be disturbed. Perfect.

Ice barely noticed the anchor’s descent as it broke the surface with a pop and gurgle then dropped to the ocean floor. All of his senses were tuned in to the siren a few feet away. Her head rested back, neck arched as she stargazed, long waves of dark hair cascading over the seatback shining with a silver glow from the moon.

He understood what this trip meant to her, for them. Syn intended to end things. When they made love, she would be saying goodbye.

Or so she thought.

He had other plans. Ones he’d have to speed up. To do that, he was going to have to grow some balls and fast.

For the past year, he’d intended to ask Syn to wait for him, hold on until he could retire and get married. Every time he started to broach the subject, his heart raced out of control, his palms sweated, and a huge lump filled this throat.

Fucking wuss!

Someone had asked him once what he felt when he pulled the trigger and took out a target. He just shrugged and said, “Recoil.” Taking a life, battling the most extreme conditions, putting his body through hell—it was his job. He didn’t have trouble sleeping, and his conscience didn’t trouble him. He was ice cold. Nothing fazed him.

Nothing except one beautiful, curvy woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand. With Syn around, he felt a wide array of intense, deep emotions. She melted the ice running in his veins, turning it into a lusty river of molten lava.

For ages now, looking toward the future and getting out of the Navy all revolved around her. She was everything he’d never known he wanted, needed, and so much more. The mere idea she might say no had the power to bring him to his knees when nothing else ever could. Not even the knife that had slid between his ribs and punctured his lung a few years ago managed to bring him down. Syn had the ability to disable him with one word.