He stared for a moment at the vee of my thighs. When his eyes met mine, they were smoldering with remembered passion.
In spite of the fact we’d just made love, if he was up for another round, then so was I. I waited to see what he would do.
“Oh, those fools.”
“Excuse me?”
“How’d you ever get the name Ice Man?”
“What do you mean? I’m always the Ice Man.”
“Yeah.” He reached for a Styrofoam container of soup and lifted the lid. “Wonton soup,” he murmured, and he reached for the other one. “Except when you’re not.”
I was the Ice Man. That was who Mark had first been intrigued by. My stomach rumbled, and I decided not to pursue the conversation. “Is it still warm?”
“Warm enough.” He pushed the other container of soup across the table to me.
“Mark, I hate stating the obvious, but we don
