305 Ice 소설 & 이야기

The intense pain has me biting hard on my tongue to stifle the groans threatening to spill over my lips. Damn it. It's a lot worse than the last. I roll on my back, wrapping my arms around my stomach. Hah....it hurts. It hurts too much. Lying on the bare snow, the cold drilled into my bones, numbing some part of the pain. Hah—exactly how long will I have to bear this? Will I even be able to last the thirty days like this?

“Yeah, I guess I need some time to think about it.” “Fine by me, whenever you are ready, let me know.” I took the bottle of tequila and poured myself a glass and gulped everything at once leaving the ice on it. I picked up the ice cube and chewed in it as I tried to clam myself and not to think about it, whereas Michael kept on watching me with a devilish mischievous smile.

Paul reported. "This is becoming unbearable." Old Madam Ryan spoke hopelessly. ============ Babe came out of the kitchen holding a cup of ice cream. She was wearing an off-shoulder top and mini shorts. Her hair was packed loosely as she sat on her Queen-sized bed. She was watching a few series that got her hooked for a few days. Just as she was about to get comfy, her doorbell rang and she sighed nonchalantly. The doorbell kept ringing nonstop but she was adamant on not wanting to answer it.

"I've stood on a lot of bad catwalks." "Most people haven't. Most people don't know what structural failure looks like at thirty feet." "Most people aren't paid to." She watched the lake pass on her left. "I'll have preliminary approach notes by end of week. I need the surveillance logs and the skylight dimensions in the middle warehouse." "You'll have them." A pause that felt like it had content to it. Something being considered and not yet said. "Your arm," he said. "What about it?"

As the Alphas turned back, they finally beheld the sight they had been starving for since Lyon first walked into the Pacific Ice Arena that morning. If he looked sharp in a three-piece suit, he looked devastating without it. His silk shirt was discarded, and his tailored trousers were pushed down, revealing an athletic, lean-muscled physique that was built for the ice but refined for a boardroom. His designer briefs were a stark, pristine white, now stained a dark rose where the wine had soaked into the fabric, clinging to his narrow, firm hips.

Adrian asked, his hands pausing on his laces. "Let me see your left foot." Ethan gently gripped the toe of Adrian's boot, tilting it toward the harsh fluorescent light. He pointed to the structural seam. "Look at this. The locking mechanism is completely loose. If you take a hard turn on the ice, this blade is going to snap right out of the holder." Adrian’s eyes narrowed. He reached down and gave the steel runner a firm tug. With a sickening click, the blade wobbled loosely in his hand. If he had stepped onto the ice, his ankle would have snapped the moment he crossed the blue line.

~Toby POV~ I walk through the cafeteria, holding my tray close to my chest. The lunchroom feels like a shark tank, and I’m the smallest fish in it. I usually eat in the service hallway or the basement, but the heater in the east wing broke, and the cold was making my fingers feel numb. I just needed twenty minutes of heat. Sadly, as a janitor, the cafeteria is a busy place of people who think I’m part of the furniture. I find a table in the very back corner, tucked behind a big stone pillar.

"No treat?" He gave a long, slow shrug. "Should I expect one?" He turned around immediately. "See no. Just focus and watch me make you eat my dust." I skated a few laps, testing the ice, the glide, the sharpness of my turns. And damn, it was perfect. I glanced back at Tristan, who watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, his expression amused. "Not bad," I announced, gliding down and stopping right in front of him. "Makes it better that no one can hear us."