With that, I pull my own pants down, and Brooke and I switch places, her standing above me now seated. We both rip off our shirts as she straddles my legs with hers, slipping each foot past the bench on either side of my hips. At a torturously slow pace, she lines me up with her entrance, and sits on my cock, aching for exactly this.
I groan as she takes all of me easily, my head drooping forward onto her chest. Brooke throws her arms around my neck, and I wrap mine around her lower back, pulling her as close to me as I can manage. She begins shifting her hips, her range of motion limited from my grip, but it somehow feels even better than if she were bouncing on top of me.
With her feet planted on the floor behind me, Brooke rocks back and forth, lifting herself off of me just enough before dropping back down. I hold her tighter, and she meets my intensity, our bodies moving passionately as one unit. Both of our breathing increases, the only noises in an otherwise silent rink, intertwining with each other just asweare.
"Look at me," Brooke says suddenly, separating our chests now slick from our closeness.
I peer up at her, and she kisses me, her tongue eager to meet mine. When she pulls back, she searches my eyes. "What's wrong?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Nothing." She gulps down a breath. "I'm just so proud of you."
My body freezes, my mind racing a mile a minute. I press my lips to hers in an attempt to stop myself from saying something Ishouldn't—something she's not ready to hear. Something it's way too early for.
Butfuck.How else do I explain this feeling?
"You're changing everything for me," I say back.
"No, Twelve," she says. "You're changing for yourself."
She starts moving again, but I'm still stuck on her words. She's right. I'm finally doing thingsmyway. Forme.But I wouldn't be able to do it alone. Not without someone in my corner who knows the truth. And it's been way too long since that was the case.
I used to think I wanted to be left alone. To be just another face in the crowd—lost. But what I'm learning is, all I ever really needed was to be found by someone who saw me for who I truly am—by her. And the rest of it started to melt away.
"You gonna be with me for real after all this?"
Brooke laughs. "Are we really talking about thisnow?"
I slide my arms behind her, reaching up to pull down on her shoulders, holding her in place. "Yeah, actually. We are."
She tries to continue riding me, but I have her unable to move. She clenches around me on purpose, and a guttural sound rips from my throat as my cock begs for its release. Brooke raises one brow, but besides a moan, I still don't waver.
She sighs. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend after all this is over, Twelve?"
I chuckle, but it's short-lived as the slight movement it causes brings me that much closer to the edge. "Fuck, I guess I am."
Brooke sucks her teeth trying to smother her smile. "Well, I guess I do know you after all." I grin, then she continues. "But, I'm gonna need a little more than'Fuck, I guess I am'as we bang in the penalty box. Maybe you can use some of those performance skills for good."
She winks, and I drag her lip between my teeth. "You want a show? I'll give you a fucking show." I finally release her shoulders, and this time, Idobounce her in my lap.
Brooke cries out as she slides off of me, then sinks back down. "But only for me," she pants, grabbing her chest and massaging her own nipples.
Her head drops back as she falls apart, and I fill beneath her. "Yeah, baby" I groan, then I empty inside her, thinking of everything from these last few weeks. "Only for you."
33
Brooke
"Good game, Twelve."
Drew walks through the door to my apartment and smothers me in his arms. "You think?" he asks, resting his head on the top of mine.
I nod, my hair rubbing against his chin. "I do."
Sighing, he releases me and slides his thumb under his chain. "Well, you're probably the only one."
I scoff, walking to the couch. "Drew, you scored twice."
"Yeah and both times I was quiet after. And so was the crowd." He sinks into the spot next to me, throwing his arm across the back of the cushion. I scoot closer to him, sliding my fingertip along the seam running down the side of his jeans.
