Page 152

I grin, my chest tightening with pride.

She’s breathing heavier now, the rise and fall of her shoulders faster. A light smile ghosts over her lips, evidence she’s happy. But the rest of her expression stays calm, Ice Queen calm, even if I know better.

Her spin starts slow in rhythm with the music, and then she lifts her free leg. Leaning backward, she grasps the blade and pulls it up above her head, only stopping when her spine curves into an impossible arc. The spin tightens, accelerates. It looks so easy, but in reality, the flexibility it takes to get into the position is intense, and so is the pain of holding it.

The Biellmann spin.

She finishes with a step sequence—rockers, counters, twizzles, all perfectly timed. The music fades out, and when the final note hits, Isla drops to one knee and presses her hand to the ice. While she catches her breath, I rein in the urge to leap onto the ice and scoop her into my arms. She is my greatest inspiration and my biggest strength. Just watching her makes me want to do better myself.

I stand from the players’ bench, and she looks up. When our eyes lock, a small smile curves her lips.

“How long have you been here?” she asks, getting to her feet.

“Long enough to see the whole program. You are…” I blow out a breath. “You’re out of this world.”

She skates over to me and grips the boards, steadying herself. With an eyebrow arched, she looks me up and down. “Don’t I deserve a kiss?”

“You sure do.” I cup her cheek, noting the coolness of her skin against my palm. I kiss her slowly, savoring every brush of her tongue against mine. “I missed you.”

“Sorry I disappeared again,” she murmurs as I rest my forehead against hers. “I wanted to come in one more time to make sure my program is ready.”

“It’s ready.”

Groaning, she pushes me away. “I can do better.”

There’s no point in arguing with her. In that way, the two of us are alike. Unless I think I’ve done well, no one will convince me of it.

“I saw Kellan on his way out,” I tell her as she skates toward where she left her things. “He told me you wanted to stay longer, and I kinda convinced him to give me the keys.”

With her phone and water bottle pressed to her chest, she gapes. “Really?”

“Yeah, I told him I’d stay with you and bring him the keys tomorrow.” I grin. “You can skate more if you want to. Just know we have the whole rink to ourselves. Even the locker rooms.”

She returns to the boards and studies me for a moment before a snort escapes her lips. “And here I thought you were an altruist.” She shakes her head. “How long have you had this fantasy?”

“What fantasy?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Michael…”

She steps off the ice, and I stride over to stand in front of her. Even with her skates on, she only reaches my chin.

I snake a hand around her waist and press her to my chest. “What fantasy?”

“The one that includes fucking me in the locker room.”

Head thrown back, I laugh. “Bold of you to assume the locker room is the only place I want to fuck you.” I place my lips near her ear and whisper, “Locker room. Showers. Penalty box. The stands. I want to fuck you on every surface here.”

She shivers, and when I pull back, her eyes are hooded, like she’s as excited about the prospect as I am.

“Wanna skate longer?” I murmur.

“I did, but since Kellan said he couldn’t stay, I’ve already finished everything I planned.”

“Then let’s go to the locker room.” Snagging her wrist, I tug her that way.

“I’m not having sex with you here,” she taunts.

I don’t reply…because why bother arguing with words when I can easily prove her wrong with my cock?