Fire and Ice (2 page)

Chapter Three

Liquid fire flooded every nerve ending in Liam’s body. The
numbness enveloping him shattered in the span of a heartbeat. He gasped as cold
air once again flowed through his lungs, sending slivers of pain into his
ribcage.

The unforgiving ice encasing his body began to fracture and
snap. He shifted, muscles aching to be free of his glacial prison.

Chaos raced through his brain as he tried to make sense of
what was happening. Memories came flooding back on a wave of anxiety. He
remembered shedding his clothes in a corner of the freezer and giving himself
over to the block of ice before him. For years, he’d struggled to conquer the
one medium that had remained a mystery to him.

Metal, wood, marble -- they’d all bent to his will. Ice
should have been child’s play. It wasn’t. He’d ruined countless eight foot,
7800-pound blocks in his attempts to master the solid, glassy surface.

Tonight, he’d realized that whatever magic helped him shape
the other mediums would need to be amplified to work on ice. Suddenly, it all
seemed so simple. All he had to do was give himself over to the magic of
creation.

After stripping down, he’d offered himself to the monstrous
block, body and soul. The solid, crystalline form had accepted his offering. He
should still be there, encased in his masterpiece. So why wasn’t he?

Something hot stroked his cock. Flames licked between his
legs, heating his balls, chasing the paralyzing cold from his groin.

He groaned, but the sound was lost inside a frigid mask of
ice. When he thrust his hips, the glacial bonds surrounding his waist shattered
and fell away. Some of the feeling in his right hand returned, sending pins and
needles to dance across his palm. He fisted his fingers. The ice cracked,
falling away like so much dust.

Someone was in the room.
A woman
.

He squinted in an attempt to see her better, but she
appeared fuzzy when viewed through the thin film of ice frosted over his eyes.
He could make out the silhouette of black curls tumbling over shoulders covered
by a green blouse. Red lips dominated an oval face. Full breasts and a narrow
waist highlighted a slender body.

Beyond that, she remained distorted and much too far away.

The inferno raging across the surface of his skin made quick
work of the ice. Hard chunks fell away in pieces, disintegrating when the
fragments hit the ground. The rest melted against his flesh, leaving him drenched
from head to toe.

Immersed in the dazed numbness that had overcome him when
he’d given himself over to the frozen medium, Liam hadn’t realized the ice had
been holding him up. When enough of it fell away, his limbs quivered. He fought
to remain standing, but failed. He pitched forward, tumbling straight into the
woman no doubt responsible for his early awakening.

She cried out. The sweet, crystalline sound echoed through
the frozen chamber. His weight propelled her backward. She lost her balance.
Liam’s hand flew up to cradle her head a split-second before they hit the
ground together.

Pain shot through his knuckles but it barely registered
before other sensations took over. Scorching heat mixed with molten arousal to
tear through him and mess with his already addled mind. Lush curves molded to
his frame. The woman’s chest rose and fell with the force of her breathing, wet
clothes sticking to her as water dripped off him.

Lifting himself on his elbows, Liam blinked the remaining
moisture out of his eyes. Her curls were black, he realized now that he could
really see her, dark as midnight. The red lips were natural, not caked with
lipstick. Her skin was flawless, her cheeks high, her nose small and slightly
upturned. And the way she looked at him with a combination of shock and raw
arousal made his balls draw up tightly against the base of his shaft.

Holy hell
. The woman was a walking wet dream.

“Liam.” She swept her fingertips across the ridge of his
brow. Her touch left behind a trail of heat that lingered and danced through
his temple, down his cheek, over his lips.

“You,” he murmured, his mouth tingling with the need to
press his lips down on hers. “You’re hot.”

She giggled. To his surprise, her amusement sounded genuine
and oddly familiar. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Her eyebrows shot up. The smile disappeared.

“No.” He grimaced. “That’s not right, either. You are… hot.”

To prove it, he ground his hips, settling himself deeper
between her thighs. His cock was hard as ice, despite the fire that raged
wildly in his groin. Steam rose around them, spiraling from every juncture
where their bodies pressed against each other.

“My body temperature.” She drew in a deep breath and
wrinkled her nose. Her plump lower lip quivered. “I’m sorry I ruined your
sculpture.”

The unexpected sight of her remorse stripped the last
remnants of Liam’s confusion. For the first time since breaking through the
frozen barrier, his head felt clear, the muddy turmoil giving way to calm
logic.

She had, in fact, ruined his sculpture. Considering how
badly he’d wanted to prove to himself and the world at large he truly was “The
Medium Master,” that alone should have made him livid. There was no way he
could recreate the magical experience and have another sculpture ready for the
competition tomorrow.

Yet if she hadn’t come along, would he have been able to
free himself on his own? He didn’t know, and the possibility of melting away
like so much slush water made the blood drain from his face.

Burying his fingers in his savior’s hair, Liam tipped her
head up so she’d look into his eyes. She let out a small squeak of surprise.

Liam frowned as he peered at her. “I know you.”

She nodded, her chin moving just slightly toward her chest.
“Elle. History. Eleventh grade.”

Liam’s heart lurched into his throat. He sank his teeth into
his lower lip as he studied the slope of her face, the angle of her nose, the
curve of those full lips.

God… could it be?

He’d long ago forced all memories of high school out of his
mind. He’d been too shy then, too awkward to fit in with the cool kids. And
later, too consumed by his art. He’d felt like an outcast the entire time he’d
attended Washington High.

Blackhawk High now
.

Funny, how things changed. And odder still how much they
stayed the same.

Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across Elle’s in a
feather-light kiss. “I remember you,” he whispered. “You sat two rows across
from me and wore the sexiest knee-high socks I’d ever seen.”

Her shocked gasp vibrated through his chest. Her lips
parted, glistening wetly, inviting him to capture her mouth with his. She
opened to him eagerly, swiping the tip of her hot tongue across his when he
delved inside. The welcoming stroke made his cock twitch.

The heat pouring off Elle’s body intensified, culminating in
the rampant flames surging between her thighs. Even through her jeans, the
sultry warmth lapped at his bare, straining cock. God, was she just as hot on
the inside?

Liam groaned inside her mouth. Molten lava churned in his sac,
causing his groin to pound with incessant need. The contrast between the ice
that had dominated his body and the heat raging through the woman trapped
beneath him made it hard to breathe.

He trailed kisses across her chin, down to the column of her
throat. His lips felt warm against her skin, feverishly so. He flicked his
tongue across the hollow at the base of her throat, tasting the faint flavor of
sweat mixed with her natural aroma.

Elle arched her back and gripped his shoulders, her
fingernails digging into his flesh. “You’re not what I expected.”

Liam flicked the top button of her blouse, revealing a
perfect indentation leading to the valley of her cleavage. “You’ve thought of
me, then?”

“Yes,” she whispered, so softly he had to strain to hear
her. “Often.”

Liam’s pulse raced. Knowing she’d fantasized about him
thrilled him to the core.

He made short work of the remaining buttons and pushed the
soft cotton to either side of her luscious breasts. The full mounds peeked from
a cotton bra, which, thankfully, snapped closed in the front. With a deft flick
of the fingers, he freed her breasts and lowered his mouth to swipe at a
pebbled nipple.

Elle lifted her hips, rubbing her mound against Liam’s
straining erection. “You never thought of me, though, did you, Mr. Famous?”

She teased him. He could hear it in her husky voice. God…
She had
no
idea.

Cupping her breasts in both hands, he skimmed the tip of his
thumbs across her nipples, then pinched them both, drawing a startled gasp from
her throat. He grinned at the sound of her eager desire.

He’d had many muses over the years, women whose lush bodies
had enticed him to immortalize them in stone, wood or various other mediums.
Elle Sutcliffe had been his first.

It was because of her he’d taken up sculpting. The knee-high
stockings she wore with mini-skirts used to make it impossible for him to
concentrate on anything but imagining what those smooth, long legs would feel
like wrapped around his waist.

The only way to relieve the ravaging effects of teenage
hormones had been to turn his focus on something equally as enthralling. He’d
found his release -- literally -- when he came all over the wooden log his
parents had brought inside to toss in the fireplace.

He still remembered the way his erection had stabbed the air
while he thought of her. The arc of hot semen spurting from his cock flew
through the air to land on the unmarred wood. It dripped down the length of the
dark log, and at that moment something had triggered inside him, something that
had been dormant and might have stayed that way forever if Elle Sutcliffe’s
never-ending legs hadn’t awakened it.

He still didn’t really know how it worked. He only knew that
his cum made the medium come alive. It bonded them -- man and material --
making them fully aware of one another.

After that, he had little control over the end result. The
medium he worked with guided him as much as his need for the object of his
desire did.

That night, he’d used his father’s Swiss Army knife to
sculpt Elle and her long legs as they wrapped around him. To this day, that
sculpture sat on a shelf in his bedroom, meant to serve as a reminder of the
woman who’d given him the most precious gift of all.

Yet he was ashamed to admit he’d forgotten her name. Hell,
he’d become so involved in his career and the fame it brought him that he’d
forgotten
her
.

“Those legs of yours were never far from my thoughts,” he
whispered before pressing his lips to her dark areola. At least that was true,
but he owed her more. So much more.

Her moan fanned the flames raging through him. It was time
he thanked Elle Sutcliffe properly.

Chapter Four

If she didn’t come soon, Elle was sure she’d spontaneously
combust. There were plenty of urban legends about people who did just that, and
most of them weren’t hurtling head-first toward an explosive orgasm.

Liam’s tongue teased her nipple, drawing moist circles
around the puckered skin. He nipped the tight bud between his teeth and bit
down sharply before lapping the sting away.

Elle groaned and tangled her fingers in his shoulder-length
hair. Water beaded on the strands, but it wouldn’t be long before it dried
completely if she kept touching it. Another perk of her high body temperature
-- she never needed a blow-dryer.

Delicious sensations sizzled Elle’s senses. Liam’s exquisite
nipple torture continued for what felt like eternity before he moved on to the
other breast, ensuring the endless stream of erotic impulses never ceased.

She opened her mouth to beg him to end the torment, but the
plea on the tip of her tongue morphed into a whimper when his mouth finally
abandoned her breast. His tongue drifted along the center of her abdomen,
dipping into her navel before reaching the top of her jeans. He paused just
long enough to unsnap them and lower the zipper before yanking on her boots,
tugging the whole mess off her legs and tossing everything toward the far wall.

Elle’s gaze followed the path of her jeans as they soared
through the air to land on top of another mound of clothes. Liam’s clothes, she
guessed. She’d been so enthralled by the sculpture she hadn’t paid any
attention to the floor when she’d walked in.

A thousand questions swam through her mind, but it was
almost impossible to make sense of them when Liam insisted on parting her pussy
lips with his thumbs and blowing a cool stream of air over her flushed labia.

“How --” She gasped as he swept the tip of his tongue along
the inner seam of her thigh. “How did you get inside the ice?”

He lifted his head. Light from the overhead bulb spilled
over his now dry skin and scattered golden highlights in his damp hair. “It’s
easy to slip inside something if you want it bad enough.”

To demonstrate, he nudged the tip of his finger along her
slit. Elle’s inner walls fluttered, her channel desperate to be filled. With
slow, gentle strokes, he stoked the fire in her cunt as though he had all the
time in the world.

His breath tickled her pussy. “Beautiful.”

“Please,” Elle begged, lifting her legs so that her ankles
were tucked in close to her ass. She felt open and exposed.

And much too empty.

Liam circled her clit with his index finger. The little nub
ached, eager for release. He pinched it gently and she whimpered, sweat
trickling down her brow.

At last, he lowered his mouth to the seam of her pussy. His
tongue delved within her folds, impossibly cold in contrast to her scorching
nether lips. He kissed her, open-mouthed, lingering on the entrance to her
channel, laving her cunt in leisurely, torturous circles.

Every muscle in Elle’s body tightened in response, quivering
with pent-up need. When Liam pulled away, she nearly sobbed.

His fingers replaced his mouth. Two of them, she thought
through a haze of euphoria. She arched her back and he met her halfway,
thrusting inside her body.

Elle writhed while Liam finger-fucked her with slow, steady
strokes. His tongue danced across her labia. He pulled a plump fold between his
lips and sucked hard, sending a stream of raw sensation to blaze in her cunt.

And then, miraculously, he lapped at her clit. One stroke,
two, three, and she was flying, the intensity of her release searing a
scorching path outward to every nerve ending, until each cell in her body
shuddered in sheer erotic delight.

He continued licking her, cleaning up her cream, gently
bringing her back to Earth as she rode the aftermath of her orgasm. Her thighs
trembled, brushing against his ears with each delicious wave of ecstasy.

When he rose from between her legs, it was to stand to his
full height, one hand clamped around that beautiful cock she’d only glimpsed
through a thick barrier of ice.

Elle licked her lips, eager for a taste of the broad, purple
head.

When Liam offered his hand to help her up, she took it.
Rather than rising to her feet, she stopped halfway and dropped to her knees,
then looked up into those piercing eyes.

“Getting inside the ice was a neat trick. Getting inside me…
well, that’s going to take a little more tenacity. Think you’ve got what it
takes?”