Page 106 of Score on You

She scoots backward until her ass once again cradles my cock. “What’s on the menu?”

My fingers clench on her hip. “Naughty girl. Real food.”

She hums. “Worth a shot.”

“I’ll let you have your way with me soon enough.”

“But in the meantime?” Suggestion trickles from her tone.

“Just let me hold you close.”

Callie smiles, snuggling into my embrace. “Only if you promise to never let go.”

“That’s a deal I’ll never refuse, love.”

I wobble again, nearly falling on my butt. The ache from my last tumble still hurts. “This is hard.”

“That’s what she said,” Ridge jokes.

My shoulders lift in a shrug, which sets me off balance and I slip. “I did say that.”

He’s at my side instantly to offer assistance. “Damn, you’re too cute. Sexy as fuck in skates too.”

“Um, thanks?” I pinwheel while attempting to gain any sense of traction. “A baby deer is more graceful.”

And that makes one of us.

Ridge’s movements are effortless. He might as well be a shark slicing across water. Other than the fact we’re on ice and it’s freezing. The comparison stands.

I don’t, nearly capsizing for the fourteenth time in the same amount of minutes. “Does beginner’s luck not exist in this sport?”

“Use the toe pick.”

“You don’t need one,” I mumble.

“Sweetness,” he chuckles. “Hockey blades don’t have a pick. I got you figure skates because they’re easier to learn in. More stability.”

I huff. “Tell that to my sore bottom.”

Ridge cuts across the glassy space separating us, braking to a halt so fast that ice shavings fly in every direction. “Need me to rub it for you?”

My brain sputters while trying to process his smooth moves. “You’re really hot.”

“Do my skills impress you?” He glides backward without concern.

Warmth gathers and spreads from my lower belly. “Mhmm.”

“Want me to take you for another spin?” He slides to a stop in front of me and holds out his hands.

The offer is tempting, and would make this process much easier. It would also contradict my earlier desire for independence. I stubbornly told him I wanted to try on my own. What a foolish decision.

“How did I get myself into this situation?” But the question is strictly rhetorical.

The final envelope contained a vague statement about playing hockey. For a gullible moment, I thought we were going to watch another game. As it turns out, we’re providing entertainment for ourselves. Mostly Ridge. Unless this is meant to be a comedic performance. At least no one else is in attendance since this is a private arena his friend owns.

Ridge’s frown is a punch to the stomach. “You’re not having fun?”

My lack of talent manages to propel me straight into his arms. “I love you.”

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