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“Have you watched any?” I’m curious now. How sexy can hockey be? We smell like animals when we get off the ice. Seriously bad. That’s why the locker room has such a powerful ventilation system.
“No.” She shakes her head. “Why would I watch porn when I have the real thing?”
I swallow hard. We’re here for a reason. And it’s not for locker room sex. Though now that I’m thinking about it…
“So why am I here then?” she asks me.
I hold my hand out to her. “Come with me.”
Blinking, she takes my hand and I pull her to the bench, sitting her down. I kneel in front of her and her eyes do that little hazy thing, making me want her more than ever.
Then I reach for her gorgeously high-heeled shoes and pull them off.
Her breath catches.
My thumbs slide along her nylon-covered feet. Smooth and warm. There’s a steady pulse between my thighs.
I lift her foot to my lips and kiss the arch of her sole. Her toes curl up.
“I thought you said…” It’s her turn to sound husky.
“I did.” I put her foot down and reach into the bag I stashed here earlier. “You need to get changed.”
“Changed?”
I hand her a pair of tight leggings and a Mavericks t-shirt, along with another one of my old game jerseys.
“Okay, this porn is turning seriously weird,” she mutters, taking the clothes. “Is it some kind of reverse thing? You want to fuck the hockey player?”
I chuckle. “No. I just don’t think you can skate in that skirt of yours.”
She looks down at her skirt and then up again. “Wait. Skate?”
“Yeah, we’re going skating.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh no we’re not.” She shakes her head vehemently. “I’d rather do the locker room sex.”
I take her face between my hands. “Do this for me, please.”
She looks at me for a moment, tiny furrows appearing between her brows. “Is this because you don’t want to date somebody who can’t skate?”
“Are we dating now?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. Are we?”
“Yes we are.” We really fucking are. “And for the record, I don’t give a shit if you can skate or not. But I do give a shit that it hurt you that you couldn’t. But I can teach you.”
“You can’t. Nobody can. My mom tried.”
“How hard did she try?”
Mackenzie blinks. “I don’t know. Isabella was already competing by then.”
I nod. “I’m not going to teach you to dance. Just skate. That’s all.” I run my hand along her jaw. “Do you trust me?”
She looks at the clothes she’s still holding then back up at me. “I think so.”
My lip quirks. “I’ll take it. Now go change.”
