Page 72 of Released from the Sin Bin

I don’t give her a chance to speak before I’m racing around the rink. Going as fast as I can with another human strapped around me. Willa screams and laughs as I spin and glide around like I’m trying out for the doubles figure skating team.

Her smile widens as the cold wind whips through her short, wavy hair.

On the last spin, Willa loses her grip on my pads and slips down my hips, but I’m quick to hold her up so she doesn’t fall.

“Whoa, that was too close.” I slow us down and skate back to the bench.

“You almost dropped me!” She squeezes my waist tighter to free her hand and flicks my ear.

Fuck.

What is she doing to me? How in the world do I get fucking hard from a flick to my ear? There is something seriously wrong with me, but I’m ready to strip her down and fuck her on the cold ice. The image of her coming at center ice manifests in my head, and it’s going to take a lot to get that out.

Unable to make a good stop, I skate her backward until she’s able to sit on the short wall in front of the bench. She jumps from the surprise landing.

“Well, that was fun.” She laughs awkwardly and wants to let go but can’t without losing her balance to fall forward onto the ice or backward into the player’s bench.

“Want to have more fun?” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively and smooth my hands up her thin leggings and under her small Drexton Hall sweatshirt.

“Carter—”

“Pierce.” Coach Renan’s voice booms out from the opening to the locker room to interrupt us.

Damn.

“Tomlin.” He nods to Willa. “What are you doing on my ice?” He makes his way over and Willa hoists herself over the wall to the bench with my help.

“Drills,” I answer once Willa is safely over. “Willa was giving me some tips.”

“Oh yeah?” He questions us.

“I’m sorry—” Willa begins apologizing, but he cuts her off abruptly.

“Let’s see it then.” He motions for me to line up. “Were you still doing progressions?”

I nod and try not to show my annoyance. I’ve been working through progressions all fucking morning. I’m over this shit and ready to get my dick wet. I’m hoping it’s with Willa, but if not her, I’ll find someone else.

I go through one drill before Willa is yelling from the bench about what I’m doing wrong. Coach whistles for me to keep going through more.

Getting fired up, Willa carefully makes her way onto the ice, holding a stick as a crutch to steady herself and give me instructions.

Coach Renan laughs and comes out with his skates on and a stick in his hand. Dropping a puck between us, he tells me to block him from the net.

Each time, Willa gives me a new tip and tells me when I get it wrong.

God, she’s infuriating.

I hate how fucking right she is. After a few tries, I finally stop him, steal the puck, then make my way across the ice to score my goal.

“Yeah,” Willa shouts and cheers, almost falling before catching herself on the ledge of the wall.

“Alright,” Coach claps, “go take a shower. Tomlin, stay a minute.”

“I’ll be right out,” I assure her before skating off.

Looking back, Coach helps Willa to the players’ bench and sits down next to her. Reluctantly, I leave them, knowing if I stay to listen, he’ll have my head.

Willa will fill me in when I get back, and hopefully she doesn’t get in too much trouble for our little stunt.

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