“You’re going to get those pretty white ones.” I point, my finger drifting from the standard ones to the hockey skates, “I’m getting those bad boys.”
Penny rocks onto the balls of her feet, and I try to ignore the smell of her perfume. Wildflowers with the sharp bite of something else—the unique combination has me imagining myself chasing her through a field and tackling her until the scent covers us both. I hope it lingers; I want to keep as much of her as I can.
“Hey, why do you get the fancy ones?” She gives me an adorable frown.
“Because I can’t shove my size 13 feet into your cute skates. It’s also easier to learn on the classic skates. See the little jagged edge at the tip of the blade? Those are your brakes.”
“Do any of them come with an extra set of training wheels?” Penny turns her attention back to the skates.
“That’s what I’m here for.” I squeeze her hand, and she gives me one in return almost immediately. “You’re going to beholding onto me until you feel comfortable. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
She smiles her green eyes shining as her gaze flits to my lips. There it is again, the harsh pang of hope pressing against my sternum.
Penny squeezes my arm and moves closer, her breasts straining against the thin black lace of her bra peeking out from her green dress. The sight alone makes my cocks swell to a near uncomfortable size within my sheath.
I turn away immediately.
This never happens. Not outside of the indulgent fantasies I allow myself in the middle of the night, the ones which consist of Penny climbing up my bed, peppering kisses across my stomach and chest. . . No, I need to control myself.
Quick! Think of something else, like doing inventory after Christmas or the one time Clark’s tabletop character tried, and failed, to dispose of a Minotaur while there was a basilisk loose in the dungeon. Yep. That does it.
The line moves, and we give the rental attendant our sizes, and then walk out into the main area.
“You ready?” I ask.
She holds up her skates and curls her slender fingers around my bicep, before giving it a squeeze, “As I can be.”
Minotaur. Minotaur. Minotaur.
“Doyou think this is tight enough?”
I straighten, ignoring the way my cocks stir again at the question, and look at Penny's extended leg, showing off the pair of borrowed off-white ice skates.
The answer is almost always no, especially for new skaters.
“Hm.” I reply, the sound stuck in my throat, “Here, let me help.”
She watches as I rest the skate on my thigh, loosening the laces down to the center and pulling them tight one by one all the way up, without missing the metal hooks at the top.
“Oh.” Penny gasps, “So it’s like a corset for your feet.”
“A little.” I smile up at her, the way she chews on her bottom lip almost drives me to distraction as I finish the other skate and slap the side of the shoe.
The blades thunk against the carpet, and I carefully pull her to her feet, instructing her on how to walk with the skates and prepping her for the feeling of ice under her feet. Even the short walk from the benched area to the rink is bringing back fond memories of late-night trips and walking out into the warm balmy air during the off season.
There aren’t many other people on the ice, so I don’t have to worry about anyone bullying us or running into her. It looks like a couple of high school kids playing around, with a few of their friends hanging out around the edge watching and some solitary skaters lost in their own little world.
“You’re telling me you did this when you were seven years old?” Penny asks, threading our fingers together and pulling my hand close to her chest as she struggles to maintain her balance.
“Imagine my father’s surprise when I asked for a pair of skates for Christmas one year. I had never set foot on the ice, but one of my friends at school played hockey.”
She smiles to herself, focusing on her steps across the carpet, “You know, I enjoyed watching the figure skaters during the Olympics. It was on my list of things I wanted to be when I grew up, along with the second in command on a spaceship, oh, and a lawyer.”
“Why second-in-command? Why not captain?” I ask, stepping out onto the rink and turning towards her with my arms outstretched.
“I don’t think I could cut it.” She gives me a smile, grabbing hold of my hands and toeing the ice like she’s testing the temperature. “Before you say a word, it’s true. Ask any of my siblings. I’m a complete pushover.”
“Same goes for the dream of becoming a lawyer?”
