Page 24 of Pucking the Grump

By the time he heads out, leaving us alone with a flutter of his fingers and a coy warning— “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, darlings. Especially on ice. Remember, passion is fun, but broken bones hurt like a son of a bitch.”— my thighs are burning in places I’d forgotten existed.

But seeing Remy have this much carefree fun makes every ache worth it.

“Want to practice some more with better music?” she asks, once the door shuts behind our fearless teacher. “I have some fun instrumental stuff on my phone.”

“Hell, yes,” I say, even though I know I’ll have to hit the ice bath before practice tomorrow if I do any more damage to my quads. “We have the rink for another hour. Let’s make the most of it.”

“Sweet.” Beaming, she skates off to fetch her phone from her bag.

She puts on some sexy sounding classical before gliding back to me, taking my hand as she asks, “Want me to show you some more couple stuff?”

“Yes, please,” I murmur. “All the couple stuff.”

“Good,” she says, her eyes glittering. “That’s what I like to hear.” She teaches me a simple lift—nothing wild, just enough to get my heart pounding as her body rises against mine. Then she spins into my arms, laughing as I barely manage to catch her without toppling over.

“Okay, hockey boy,” she teases, steadying me with her hands on my shoulders. “Next up, a little pair spin, some stroking, and maybe…a death spiral, if you’re feeling brave.”

“Stroking sounds nice,” I say, gravel in my voice that wasn’t there before.

Her breath feathers out. “I made that too easy for you.”

“You sure did,” I agree, letting my fingers press deeper into her waist.

We’re not moving anymore, just standing in the middle of the rink while the last of the evening light diffuses through the windows, turning her hair to fire. Her palms are flat on my chest now, and I can see her pulse beating faster at the side of her throat.

I should probably ease back. Keep things light. Remember that this is supposed to be about fun, not complicating our already complicated relationship. But then her gaze drops to my mouth, her tongue slips out to dampen her lips, and all my good intentions melt like ice under a blow torch.

I close the distance between us, crushing my lips to hers. She responds immediately, opening for me as she clings to my biceps through my sweater. The familiar heat ignites between us, but there’s something different about this kiss, an openness beneath the hunger that makes my chest ache as I guide her backwards.

We drift across the ice, locked together and hands everywhere, until her back meets the boards with a gentle thud. The heat really kicks up a notch then, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan against her mouth.

“This wasn’t in Flo’s routine,” she whispers between kisses.

“Advanced lesson,” I murmur, nipping at her sensitive ear lobe. “Extra credit.”

Her laugh turns to a gasp as I kiss my way down her throat while my hands find their way under her sweatshirt to the warm skin beneath. I cup her breasts through her sports bra, and she arches into my touch.

“Someone could walk in,” she says, but she makes no move to push me away.

“Nope. Like I said. All ours until seven o’clock. We’re completely alone.” I slide my hand down the front of her leggings, finding her underwear already soaked. My cock jerks in approval. “What’s this, Bossy? Does figure skating turn you on?”

“Maybe.” Her soft moan as I rub her clit in circles through her panties fills the space between us. “You might also have something to do with it.”

“Oh yeah?” I play it cool as I shove her sweatshirt up and her sports bra along with it. Her throat works as I expose her flushed nipples, already tight with arousal, to the cold air.

But again, she doesn’t try to stop me.

Looks like we’re both ready to quit pretending we care about silly things like being all over each other in public spaces.

“Tell me more about that,” I encourage as I thumb one stiff peak, teasing her tip as my other hand retreats from her pants just long enough to guide her leggings and panties beneath her ass.

“You can’t strip me naked out here,” she whispers, clinging to me as I kiss her again.

“I’m not,” I murmur against her sweet mouth, sucking her bottom lip hard enough to make her moan. When I release it, I promise, “Just need a little room to work, that’s all. Now, spread your thighs for me, Bossy. I need you coming on my hand five minutes ago.”

Her eyes darken as she reaches for the top of my fleece-lined track pants. “What if I don’t want to come alone?” She slides her hand inside, her palm grinding against my cock through my cotton boxers. “Looks like you’re already wet, too,” she murmurs, her thumb pressing the spot where I’m leaking pre-come, so desperate for her that I can hardly breathe as she adds, “You need to get off, princess?”

“Not as bad as you do, Bossy, and I’ll make a mess. Let’s concentrate on you right now.” I glide two fingers deep into her soaked pussy, curling them forward in a “get over here” motion that makes her head fall back against the plexiglass. I bring my thumb to her clit, applying pressure as I continue to fuck her with my hand until her ragged moans fill the air. “Do you know how good you look skating in these leggings?” I whisper against her forehead, my breath coming faster now, too. “I’ve been wanting to bend you over the gate and fuck you since the second you walked in.”

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