Breaing the Ice

The sound of the front door slamming shut made me grin like an idiot while I hopped my legs into my black jeans. Even though it was the middle of March and the snow was finally starting to melt, there had been a late surge of the flu going through most of firefighters over the last three weeks. Luckily Shane had avoided getting sick but that also meant he was working a lot of overtime to pick up the slack. It was Thursday, he'd been at work the last six days in a row and I'd hardly talked to him - now he was home and I was rushing off to class. I was happy I'd at least get to see him for a couple of minutes before I ran out the door.

I was fastening the last button on my ivory silk shirt when Shane stalked into our bedroom with a fierce determination in his stride. "Hey handsome! I'm glad I caught you before -"

He cut me off with an abrupt kiss as his hand tangled itself in my freshly brushed hair. His stance was as dominating as his kisses were wild, his tongue furiously clashing against mine as he walked me backwards toward the bed. He pushed me onto my back onto the mattress, quickly gathering his shirt over his head before working the buckle of his brown leather belt. I licked my tingling lips, trying to focus on the time as opposed to his ripped upper body. "Um, as much as I'd love to do this, I need to get to school."

"I need this more." His jeans and boxers joined his shirt on the floor, then he started handling his erection, squeezing a drop of pre-ejaculate from the thick tip. "I haven't seen you in almost a week. Trust me, this ain't gonna take very long. Take your clothes off."

My eyes darted toward the clock on the nightstand then back to his impatient face. "Shane, I really have to go..."

He closed his eyes and cracked the side of his neck before leaning his knee on the bed, parting my thighs as he hovered over me. The severity behind his narrowed eyes made my pulse race nervously. "My mistake, Tess. I made it sound like that was a request." His long finger traced down the middle of my shirt before he bunched the delicate fabric in his hand and ripped it open, buttons scattering across the comforter and rolling onto the hardwood floor. My breasts heaved with the sharp breath I took, he roughly pulled down the cup of my nude bra and drew my nipple in his mouth with a long, hard suck. He caught the hardened bud between his teeth and clamped down as his head pulled back, finally releasing me when I cried out in response to the pain. He switched to the other side, hollowing his cheeks as he suckled hungrily, causing me to start grinding against his bare leg like a cat in heat. He shifted and stared down at me, palming my breast tenderly and massaging the nipple he'd just assaulted.

"Take your clothes off. Don't make me repeat myself a third time or you're really gonna be late for class."

My fingers trembled as I worked the button on my pants, my gaze not leaving his face. His chiseled jaw ticked incessantly and his eyes were cold despite the heat radiating from him. I'd never seen him so tightly wound up. As soon as I pulled down my zipper he stood and snatched them down my legs along with my panties, tossing them across the room before settling between my legs once more. He rubbed the tip of his cock against my slit in a quick attempt to lubricate himself. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong but he shook his head before I could speak. "No. I don't want you to talk. I just need to use your hot lil' body for release right now, okay?" His face softened a little as he watched the distress on mine. "Tell me you're with me...I need you with me."

I was finally able to take stock of what was behind his icy demeanor. Weariness. Apprehension. I didn't know what the cause was but he was looking for something,

anything

, to have control over the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "Yes. I'm always with you."

He spread my legs wider around him, clamping his hand around my mouth as he inched his way inside me. What was already usually a tight fit - due to my inexperience and his girth - was even tighter since he didn't send any time getting me wetter like he usually did. When he pushed his hips forward I whimpered from the forcible stretching of my walls. Shane released his grip on my face and ran his finger over my lips. "Relax, darlin'. I'm not gonna hurt you. Let me in."

He reached between us, stroking his thumb back and forth over my clit. I moaned lightly, my back bowing off the bed just enough for him to coax the rest of his thick member inside me. With a satisfied grunt his hand reached for my wrists and pinned them above my head. His other arm came around my lower back, keeping my body close to his as he fucked me in short, hard bursts. Every time I'd get close and tighten around his cock he'd stop moving, effectively killing my orgasm. When he felt I'd come down enough he'd start fucking me again, the added lubrication inside me affording him the ability to go deeper. Harder. The fourth time he stopped I cried out in frustration. "Shane,

please

!"

He let go of my arms and pulled out, leaning over my body as he pumped himself to completion with his hand, warm spurts of semen filling my belly button. His eyes squeeze shut, like he was physically pained. He slowly stood up in front of me, taking stock of the mess he left on my skin. Patting my thigh gently he avoided looking me in the eye. "Go to school. I'll see you later." Saying nothing else he walked into our en suite bathroom and shut the door. I laid there for a moment trying to comprehend the impersonal way he just came - and left - before standing on shaking legs and gathering my clothes off the floor.

***

That afternoon I found myself sitting in my academic advisor's office, crossing my aching legs and leaning back into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. I had been pulled from my class with a note saying he wanted to have an urgent meeting with me. I waited nervously for him to come in and tell me what was going on. I was chewing absentmindedly on my thumbnail when the door opened, Dr. Briggs finally entering...

...followed by my father. I sat up immediately. "Uh...hey Dad. Dr. Briggs."

Dad nodded curtly in my direction, having a seat in the chair next to me while my advisor settled at his desk across from us. Dr. Briggs smiled at me easily, his salt-and-pepper bear reaching the corners of his eyes. "Sorry to pull you from class Tess, but this was the only opening your father had in his schedule before Spring Break starts."

"Oh. Okay." I fiddled with the short sleeves of my slate hued blouse, the only other shirt I had that wasn't currently wrinkled since Shane ruined my other one. "Is there a problem?"

"Not a problem, per se," Dr. Briggs shook his head, "but your professors have expressed some concerns about your work this semester."

My forehead wrinkled in confusion as I frowned. "Really? I turned in my thesis early and I think the lowest grade I've gotten on any of my papers is a B."

"Which would be adequate for another student, but you've had a 4.0 average for the past three years, not counting the amount of extra credit and study hours you've logged. It's relatively normal for fourth years to relax a little their final semester, but you're a bright young woman. We'd hate for you to start losing steam now, especially before you begin our graduate program in the fall." Dr. Briggs leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. "Your father informed me you've recently married. Congratulations."

I turned to my dad, feeling a little embarrassed he'd divulged my personal life to my advisor as if it were some kind of excuse. Dad tapped his finger on the arm of his chair as he addressed me, "Contessa, you know I think Shane is a perfectly fine young man. However, I don't think he understands how much effort and dedication it takes to excel in the corporate world. Skipping classes, assignments not up to par - you've been distracted. You have a certain drive about you that we don't want to see you lose."

"Luckily, I believe we've found a way to help keep you motivated," Dr. Briggs interjected. "Every year the Economics department has one alumni who graciously offers a highly coveted internship at one of their companies. An opportunity to work under them and gain a multitude of experience that will not only aid them during the program, but will cultivate contacts and relationships that will carry them through the rest of their careers. This year your father is offering his tutelage at his investment firm."

I blinked for a moment, taking in what they were suggestion. "I'm sorry, you want me to come

work

for you?"

Dad nodded. "It would be much more than your typical entry-level position. You'd be shadowing me personally. You'd sit in on meetings and conference calls, eventually handling accounts of your own. It is an incredible opportunity, one that is not usually offered to undergraduate students." He grabbed my hand and the personal gesture was a little shocking. "You have amazing potential Contessa. If you allow me to harness it and help you grow there is no telling how successful you will be."

I blew out an incredulous breath as I took my hand back and placed it in my lap, my sparkling wedding rings catching my eye. "Can I have some time to think about this? It's a big decision and I need to talk to...I need to mull it over for a bit."

Dad's expression hardened for a second before his poker face glazed over it. "Of course, but please try to give me an answer in the next week or two. Otherwise we'll have to go to the next person on our list." He stood and shook Dr. Briggs' hand before leaving silently. I started gathering my bag and jacket so I could make it to my seminar when he cleared his throat. "Tess, listen. You're a exemplary student - one of the best I've had in my years here at Yale - and I'm sure you know what's best for you. I would be a terrible advisor if I didn't push my pupils to achieve as much as they can. I strongly urge you to consider this opportunity from your father. To learn from the best is a gift, even if it comes in the form of nepotism."

I smiled, his dry joke lightening my mood. "I will. Thank you Dr. Briggs."

"Oh, one last thing?" he started as I approached the door, "We received the rankings for graduation - as of now you're third in your class. Even if you decide to pass on your father's offer you should be very proud of your hard work here, and I'm confident you will go far no matter what you choose."

I thanked him again and left his office, trotting down the stairs and out of the administration building into the sharp bite of the cold air. I sat down on the stone steps and set my elbows on my knees, resting my chin in my hands and let the thoughts bounce around my skull for a moment. Not really in the mood for an anxiety jumble in my brain I fished around in my bag for my cell to text the one person I really wanted to be around at a time like this.

***

"Can I just say I love that you're skipping school not even an hour after you got busted for skipping school?" Sydney chuckled as she sipped her martini. We had escaped the hallowed halls of our school and settled at the River House Tavern, a sports bar near her apartment. It was dark and a bit of a dive, but it was mostly empty and they had my favorite beer on tap.

I exhaled slowly while I slowly twirled my mug around on the wooden bar top. "It's been a long day and I'm really trying not to flip out. Thanks for coming out with me."

"Always, babe. You think Red will be on board with the whole job thing?"

"I don't know. Look, my dad's firm is obviously successful, and blatant favoritism is great and all, but..." I thought for a moment as I took a quick drink, then set the mug down with more force than I meant to. "You know what? I would be great at this job. I know I've complained about economics for the past four years, but maybe I don't totally hate the whole numbers game. I'm good at it."

Syd nodded in agreement. "I understand that. I'm fucking dreading going to law school next year but, you know, both the parental units are lawyers. It's in my blood whether I want to deny it or not...I mean, not technically 'cause of the whole 'being adopted' thing, but you get what I'm saying. So what's the issue with accepting something you want?"

"It's..." I paused, tucking my hair behind my ears before cradling my glass once more, "It's my dad's assumption that because I'm married I'm not focused on my career. Yeah, I've skipped a few classes this semester and haven't been as neurotic about my study habits, but why is that a bad thing? Why

can't

I have the job, the husband and the kids and be good at them all? I don't want to be like him, neglecting my spouse and children, just paying them off in retribution. But I don't think I'd want to be a stay-at-home mom either, Lord knows my mom hated her life doing it. I don't know, either way it's a big decision, I'm just rambling at this point."

Sydney's hazel eyes bugged out while she gently pried the half-drained beer from my hand that I was fiddling with. "Holy shit. Tess, are you pregnant? Because you just mentioned babies, like, nine times in the last thirty seconds."

"No. Not pregnant." I mentally counted the days since I stopped taking the pill then shook my head. "At least not yet. We've been trying though, he is seriously gung-ho on the baby train."

"But are you?" She rested her fingers on my forearm. "That is a huge fucking step and you sound a little apprehensive."

I patted her hand as I straightened my shoulders back. "Of course I'm apprehensive, I'm a nutcase. I'm hyper-busy and super crazy but he wants this so,

so

badly. There has been so much in our relationship where he gives and gives and I want to give this to him. He's been endlessly patient, kind and accommodating, and he has to deal with his insane woman the rest of his life, "I motioned to myself up and down for emphasis. "If Shane wants babies, I'm giving him babies. If he wanted me to dress up like Barney and parade down the street in my giant purple costume and tube socks for no other reason other than it makes him smile, I would."

My phone buzzed on my lap, interrupting our conversation with a number I didn't recognize with a Connecticut area code. I slid the answer button across the screen and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Yeah, hi, Tess?" The soft male voice spoke through the receiver, "This is Greg. I work with Shane?"

My heart started thumping in my chest. I thought Shane had the day off, but...

someone from the station wouldn't call unless something was wrong.

Panic swelled in my chest but I tried to sound calm. "Of course Greg. Is everything okay?"

Please, please be okay.

"Everything's fine, it's just - " A loud voice in the background cut him off and I heard some murmuring through the phone. "Shane's down at the bar here, and he's...I mean, he's

wasted

. They called me 'cause they said he kinda mumbled something about you being in class."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." I hung up and swiveled my stool to hop down, turning to Sydney's inquisitive face. "Shane is...I have to go." She waved me off and I placed a kiss on her cheek as I walked briskly out of the bar.

***

I raced down the highway, arriving to The Steel Room as soon as basic traffic laws allowed. Walking in I spotted my husband slumped over a table in the corner with Greg sitting across from him, sipping on a bottle of water. Making my way over to them I immediately started apologizing, "I'm

so

sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him. He didn't like, Hulk out or anything, did he?"

Greg chuckled as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No, nothing like that. Shane's a gentle giant, he just kinda drank a lot of Jameson and gradually wound down like a kid's toy. He's probably exhausted, it's been a long few weeks."

I stroked Shane's shaggy hair, he stirred slightly as he gripped his half-empty whiskey glass in his hand but he didn't fully wake. "Has he done this before? I know he's been working a lot lately..."

Greg slid out of the booth, shaking his head. "Nah, never, which is why it's weird seeing him like this. We were out on a bad call yesterday, and he usually takes it in stride, but..."

"Yeah. I get it." I shook Shane's shoulder, he turned his face from the crook of his arm and looked at me, barely focused with glassy eyes. "Tesssssh! It's Tessh, my...my perrrrfect lil' wife."

I bent to hook his arm over my shoulder, awkwardly getting him to stand. "Yeah buddy, it's me. We're going to go home now and get into bed, okay?"

"Yessss'm." He stumbled over his long legs and Greg helped me walk him out to my car. Once we got him down in the back seat I closed the door on his large sleeping form. "Thanks for sitting with him. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, no problem. He's a good guy." Greg rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture I'd seen Shane do many times when he was nervous. "Don't be too hard on him, okay? I've worked with him for a while and he never does this, he's probably just burned out." I gave him a brief hug and a pat on the back before climbing into the driver's side door, starting the engine and heading home.

Half-dragging Shane's bulky, heavy body into the house was definitely no easy feat, but somehow I helped him up the stairs and into our bed. He immediately turned onto his side, grabbed my pillow and cuddled it into his chest as he passed out into a deep sleep. I went to our bathroom and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, setting it by his night stand before heading downstairs. After making a cup of tea I grabbed one of my textbooks and hunkered down on the couch to study while he slept it off.

***

The smell of bacon is enough to wake even the severely intoxicated.

Heavy footsteps thudded down the stairs and my disheveled husband appeared in the kitchen, hair sticking up and yesterday's clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them. "Hey," he croaked out.

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Thomas," I replied cheerily as I slid scrambled eggs onto his plate on the island. "And how are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit with a goddamn truck. Where are you goin'?"

"Study group, but I have something to talk to you about first. It's a little time sensitive." He occupied the stool across from me and started digging into his food. "I saw my department advisor yesterday. He informed me that I'm ranked third in this year's graduating class."

Shane's mouth curved into a half-smile. "Yeah? That's awesome, sweetheart."

"Thanks. Which brings me to the other thing - my dad wants me to go work for him." He stopped chewing, his face blank as I continued. "Every year an alum picks a student to do an internship of sorts, and Dad picked me. Gross display of nepotism aside it's a great opportunity. I'm pretty confident I can guilt a large paycheck out of him, too," I joked before taking a drink from my coffee mug.

Shane tapped the tines of his fork against his plate, swallowing his bite. "So, you're talkin' about going to grad school and workin' at least forty hours a week for your dad."

"Well, I'm sure my schedule can be adjusted once school starts in the fall -"

"And when exactly are you planning to fit havin' a baby in there? You do remember we're tryin' to start a family here, don't you?"

I frowned at his condescending tone. "Yes, I remember. I still want to, we can still have a baby."

"How? Jesus, Tess," he huffed angrily, "You can barely get through school alone with damn near havin' a mental breakdown every other week, how the fuck do you expect to do all that and add a kid in the mix? Do you

really

think you're gonna be able to handle the extra stress? This isn't like Austin, you can't just hire someone to walk and feed the kid whenever you can't make it home in time. I mean, if you're not ready to have a baby all you have to do is fuckin' say so."