He took her coat. “Want something to drink?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay. Have a seat. I picked up the apocalypse of a mess, but it’s not pretty around here.”

She laughed. “And you’ve seen my place, so I never would have noticed.”

“Yeah, but a guy lives here. Trust me, you’d have noticed. Especially the dirty socks smell.”

“Doubtful. I have two brothers, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. You win that round.” He sat on the sofa next to her.

She picked up the controller. “Playing video games?”

“Yeah.”

“I would have thought you’d have been watching game films to figure out why you all played so shitty on the road.”

“I watch plenty of game films with the team. And we played like shit because we were trying too hard. Hockey is a mental game as well as physical. You start getting in your own head too much, it screws with your game play.”

“Do you really think that’s the problem?”

“I know it’s the problem. We have the best team in the league. We can win the division and go to the playoffs with the talent we have. For some reason we hit a slump because everyone started worrying about this road trip and freaking out about the caliber of teams we were going to play. At least we salvaged the last game of the road trip.”

“So you did.”

As much fun as it was to debrief his games, it was time to put an end to this and get to the real reason Jenna was here. “Is that why you came tonight? To analyze my game play?”

She took a deep breath. “Wow. We’re getting into that already, huh?”

“You called this meeting. Might as well.”

“You’re right.” She half turned to face him, pulling her knee up on the sofa.

She looked pretty tonight. She’d worn a knit dress that clung to her curves, and added dark tights and ankle boots. Her hair spiked up and her dangly earrings twinkled in the light cast by the lamp on his table next to the sofa. She looked soft and feminine and he wanted to gather her against him and kiss every part of her he could see…followed by all the parts of her skin he couldn’t see.

She was quiet, obviously struggling with whatever it was she wanted to say.

But this time, the ball was going to be in her court. He wasn’t going to take the lead, no matter how much he wanted to.

She leaned her elbow against the back of the sofa, then laid her head in the palm of her hand and looked around his living room, though there wasn’t anything to look at. A few pictures, some crappy art he’d bought because Liz had recommended it, and a few things he’d picked up to sit on tables because he liked the way they looked. But he didn’t think Jenna was admiring his art.

There was something she needed to say, but it wasn’t coming out.

She studied the ring on her thumb, then circled it around with her fingers. It was painful to watch her struggle.

He stood, walked to the front door, and grabbed his jacket and her coat. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

WHEN TY HAD SAID THEY WERE GOING OUT, JENNA figured they’d take a drive, some fresh air so she could get past this lump in her throat and find her voice.

She had no idea they’d end up at the freaking Ice hockey arena at one in the morning.

Who knew he had that much pull that he could get them into the arena?

And now she was being laced up in skates and protective gear and thrust out onto the ice, the lights turned on, while Tyler skated toward her with two hockey sticks in his hands.

God, she had no idea how devastatingly sexy he was in his hockey gear. On television, it was at a distance, and she never went to the games. Not since she was a kid, anyway.

But seeing him come toward her, bent over in game form, sliding that puck back and forth—holy hell it was a turn on that shocked her all the way down to her laced-up skates.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” he said, skating around her, sliding the puck between her skates and scooping it up behind her. “I do a lot of thinking when I’m on the ice. Helps me clear my head. So let’s play a little one-on-one, and maybe you’ll figure out what you need to say.”

She could skate as well as either of her brothers, had gone to the ice rink every winter since she was a little girl, so she had no problem going toe-to-toe with him, but she was no pro hockey player. “We could have just sat on the sofa and talked it out.”

He lifted up his mask and grinned at her. “My way is more fun.”

He slid the puck to her and started skating backward. “Pretend I’m the defender of my goal. Now try to get the puck by me.”

He was going to obliterate her. She already knew that, but she was competitive enough to give it a try. She pushed forward on her skates, feeling bulky and hindered with the gear on, and half blinded by the helmet. Still, she skated on, trying to keep the puck moving with her stick as she advanced toward Tyler, who stood at the left face-off circle, in front of where the goal would be.

And then he moved forward, skating toward her like a high-speed train. She shifted to the right, but he was on her in seconds, sweeping the puck away from her and forcing her to turn or skate backward.

She wasn’t as fast backward as she was forward, so she had to turn around and that slowed her down. He was already at the other end by the time she turned.

He brought the puck around to center ice and swept it back to her.

“You’re slow. Try to pick it up this time.”

“If I high stick you in the balls, you’ll slow down,” she said, irritation piquing.

He laughed and backed away. “That would cost you a penalty.”

She glared at him. “Who will you play with if I’m in the penalty box?”

“Wasn’t the kind of penalty I’m talking about.”

“Yeah? And what kind of penalty is that?”

He put his stick around her back and drew her against him.

“A time out.”

“Bogus, Anderson.” She pushed off and grabbed the puck, racing for the imaginary goal since there wasn’t a net in place. She knew she was no match for Ty’s speed on the ice but she intended to give it her all. She caught sight of him on her right side and dug in, giving it all she had, then reared back with the stick and slammed a shot forward, hitting the goal spot and lifting her stick in the air in triumph.

She skidded to a stop, Tyler a few feet away. She laid her hands on her knees because she was sucking wind so hard her chest hurt, but she was grinning like a crazy person. It had felt great.

He stopped beside her. She turned her head to him. “I scored a goal.”

“So you did. Feel good about that?”

“I do, but I have a feeling you let me win.”

He lifted up his mask and gave her a fierce glare. “Woman, you know how competitive I am. Do you really think I’d let you score on me?”

She squinted, studying him. “Hmmm, probably not. You’d likely try and kick my ass.”

“You’re right about that.” He moved in closer, backing her toward the boards until she was cornered. He pulled off her helmet and it clattered on the ice.

“You should take better care of your equipment. It needs to protect your head.”

“That’s practice equipment. We treat game equipment like gold.” He pulled off his gloves and pressed his hand against her neck. His fingers were cold. They felt good against her heated skin. Who knew one could sweat like this on the ice? She knew the guys worked hard when they played the game—she watched how fast they skated and wondered how they didn’t exhaust themselves. Ty’s muscular body told her how hard they worked at it.

When he swept his thumb over the pulse point in her neck, she grew even warmer, especially with his pad-covered body pinning her to the boards. He drew in closer, close enough to feel his warm breath ruffle her hair. Her ni**les tightened.

“So,” he said. “Figured out yet what you wanted to talk to me about?”

She pulled off her gloves and dropped them, then laid her palms on his chest, wishing there wasn’t all this…stuff…between them so she could touch his skin. “Not really. I’m confused.”

“About?”

“You and me.”

“What about you and me confuses you?”

He stroked his thumb behind her ear, slid his hand into her hair.

How was she supposed to talk to him when he was touching her like that?

“Ty.”

“Yeah.” His gaze bored into hers, and she didn’t think he was all that interested in what she had to say, which was a good thing because she didn’t much feel like talking anyway.

He tilted her head back and her lips parted for him just as his mouth covered hers.

His kiss was hungry, making her muscles clench as he moved his lips over hers in a way that demanded more. This wasn’t a light and easy kiss, it was hard and passionate, his tongue sliding between her teeth to lick against hers. She gasped and held on to him as he pushed her against the boards and demanded everything from that kiss, stealing her breath as he wrapped his arm around her and pressed his body intimately against hers.

Pinned against the boards, she could only hold on to him. The ice was slick and she dug the edge of one skate into the ice for balance, clutching Ty’s pads while he kissed her senseless.

She was on fire, her body needing his touch, his skin against hers. She’d missed him, had missed…this. This connecting to him on that intimate level. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to hash out everything that was screwed up in her head, or all the reasons she didn’t want to be with him, because right now none of that mattered.

She did want to be with him. Here and now, with hot and cold swirling around her, driving her into a frenzy of need and desire.

When he pulled back, his eyes were half lidded, desire darkening them to a stormy gray.

That’s what she needed to see, what she focused on. The rest of it was just extraneous fluff she didn’t want to make sense of right now.

Not when he gave her a look like that.

She swallowed, her throat dry. She licked her lips and he zeroed in on her mouth and kissed her again, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth until she threw her head back against the glass and moaned out of sheer pleasure. He pressed kisses to her jaw, her neck, using his teeth to graze her throat.

“Ty, please.”

“I love when you say my name. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

“No. Tell me.”

“I think I’ll show you instead.”

The next thing she knew he had untied the pads she wore, removed his own pads and tossed them across the ice.

It was distinctly cooler without all that padding. Her dress and tights weren’t warm enough.

“I’m cold. Can we go now?”

“I’ll warm you up.” He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her, this time a gentle brush of his lips, and then he paused. She held her breath, waiting for him to continue. He pulled back and she saw his lips curl in a smile that turned her world off balance. She reached up to rub her fingers over his lips, then arched up on her skates to reach his mouth.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, and she forgot all about being cold. His hands and body were like a blast furnace as he moved them over her, drawing her within his heat. His lips were hard and demanding, making her melt from the inside out. She was surprised the ice wasn’t thawing beneath them, sinking them in a sea of liquid.

His hand found her breast, molded to it, and fire spread through her. She arched against his palm and he thumbed her nipple through the material. Oh, she wanted to be na**d, but there was something so primal about being here on the ice, fully clothed, with him touching her like this. He shifted his thigh between her legs and held her there, his mouth doing delicious things to her lips while he touched her breasts.

She was on fire. That, coupled with standing on the cold ice, was a study in contrasts that inflamed her senses and sent her spiraling into arousal. She wanted more than this fully clothed petting. She slid her hand under his shirt to touch his bare skin, to feel the warmth of his back.

He pulled his mouth away from hers and stared down at her, touching his hand to her cheek. Her breath caught and held as he moved his hand down her neck and across her breasts. He mapped a casual trek down her body, making her gasp as his touch snaked south, teasing her by not touching her where she wanted to, where she was throbbing with need. He grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it, then slid his hand over her sex to cup her through the thin material of her tights.

She gasped as he rubbed his palm back and forth over the ache that had settled there. She arched against him, trying to balance on her skates. He held her firmly in his grasp, more comfortable on the ice than she was.

“Here?” she asked.

“Yeah. Right here.”

“How?”

“We’ll make it work. I want you, Jenna.”

Their gazes fused and she saw the fierce need in his eyes, in the tight set of his jaw, his muscles tensing under her hands. It catapulted her desire to feverish levels. The idea of making love with him here on the ice suddenly seemed perfect.

He slipped his hand inside the waistband of her tights, finding the heat of her center. Her breathing quickened as the icy cold of his fingers found the warm wetness of her sex.

She clutched his shoulders and held on as he fingered her pussy, flicked the ring around her cl*tand caressed her there.

“Your fingers are cold.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. God, it feels good. Put them inside me.”