Chapter 40
BUNNY HOPS & FORBIDDEN FANTASIES
Calvin
Ready for tonight?
Me
More than ready.
Grace
Do you need anything?
Me
Nope. I triple-checked with Coach and the GM. We’re good to go.
Grace
Awesome. Have fun!
Calvin
I can’t believe they are actually letting you do this
Me
Me either, honestly, but I’m stoked.
Trigg
Wait, what is this?
Grace
Skating at the arena!!
Trigg
Oh yes! So fun.
Wait. Is this the private lesson? Should I be there?
Me
Nope, that’s not for a few more weeks, you’re good, Trigg. This is a date night for Lydia and me.
Trigg
Yes. Now I remember. Have fun!
Me
Thanks! I’ll let y’all know how it goes.
The front door opens, and Lydia enters, dressed in her work clothes. Her bump is fully on display now, especially when she wears a tight dress or skirt. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Hey, beautiful.” I stride over and take her lips in a kiss.
I just got back from a long weekend road trip, so it’s been a few days since I’ve been able to hold her. I sway back and forth with her in my arms, reluctant to let go. It’s getting harder to be apart from her, even for a night.
“Hey, you.” She squeezes my torso.
“Missed you.” I kiss her again. Ever since our first kiss on New Year’s a few weeks ago, I take every opportunity to kiss her. Her lips are addicting. “Ready for a date night?”
“Yeah. What should I wear?” She sets down her bag and kicks off her shoes.
"It's all ready for you." I gesture to her room.
Her face pinkens, a deep blush spreading across her round cheeks. God, she's cute. I palm her hip, walking her backward until her back hits the wall, then I plant my elbow above her head and lean in close.
"What are you hiding in there, Lydi?"
"N-nothing."
"Mm. More of those drug store vibrators?"
"I don't know what you mean." She turns away, her gaze darting to the floor.
I run my nose down the side of her cheek. "I just want to know what kind of teammates I'm working with here, not that I need them."
Lydia pushes me away gently and staggers backward, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll get changed. When are we leaving?”
Flustering her is one of my new favorite activities.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, we are heading out of our apartment hand in hand.
“Should I ask where we are going? I’m assuming it has something to do with skating.” She gestures to her outfit.
She’s dressed in a deep navy frilly skirt that I’ve seen her wear to skating events a few times, with tights underneath and an athletic long-sleeve top. The tights and top are fleece-lined. Her bump is hidden under the ruffles of her skirt, and I’m a little bummed I can’t see it.
“Yes, it has to do with skating,” I concede. “I’ve got all your skating gear in the car.”
Lydia lets out a small squeal, and I squeeze her hand. We get into my car, and I start the drive to the arena. Her eyes widen as we pull into the garage and park.
“Fletcher…” she says, her voice full of trepidation. “What are we doing here? Are we breaking and entering?”
Shaking my head, I laugh under my breath. “We aren’t breaking and entering. You’ll see.”
I grab the bag with her skates from the trunk, hauling it over my shoulder and wrapping my free arm around her. I lead her through the arena and into the locker room, where I sit her down on the bench in my locker.
“Alright, let’s get those skates on.” I bend down to pull her banged-up figure skates from the bag.
“I can do it myself,” she says, trying to pull her feet away and reach for her skates.
“Nope.” I hold out my hand for her foot, glancing up at her with raised brows. “Gimme.”
She groans. “I’ve been putting my own skates on for over twenty years, Fletch. I can do it on my own.”
“Yes, you can. But you don’t have to, and besides, I want to.”
Once both her skates are on, I take off the light purple blade covers and shove them into the bag, grabbing her hat and mittens, which I help her put on. Then, I get my skates from my locker and put them on.
I stand and take her hand again, leading her out of the locker room and down the tunnel.
“What are you doing?” She asks warily, pulling my hand. “We’re going to get into trouble.”
“No, we aren’t. I got permission. I just have to text them when we’re done so they can clean up the ice and turn off the lights.”
“We’re not about to skate in the arena, right? There’s no way.”
“Yes, we are.” I laugh, taking in the scared look on her face. “It’s just ice.”
“I know it’s just ice.” She huffs. “You seriously got permission for this?”
“Yep. You’re going to teach me some tricks, Coach.”
She scoffs. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Figured it was about time I learn some fancy shit. Maybe it can be my new celly. I’ll do a triple axel.”
Her mouth drops. “I can’t even do a triple axel.”
“Really?”
“That’s Olympic level, Fletcher.”
“I bet I could nail it.”
“Whatever you say. I won’t be doing any jumps.” She gestures at her stomach, and I stop before we step onto the ice.
“Of course, gotta protect the little ladybug. You’ll teach me some tricks, though?”
“Sure, we can start with a loop, or a waltz.”
“Fancy.”
“I’m only doing this if you promise to do one for your next goal celly.” She pokes her finger into my chest.
“Pinky promise.” I steal her finger, interlocking our pinkies and lifting her hand to my lips.
Lydia inhales sharply, her gaze softening.
After I drop her hand, I open the door to the ice and step on, reveling in the familiar glide as I take my first strides.
Being on the ice feels like home to me. It’s the same feeling I get when I have Lydia in my arms. I look around the empty, dark arena that’s only lit up with a few of the spotlights above us.
Having Lydia here with me feels even better than I could have imagined.
With my two worlds colliding into one, a sense of rightness seeps into my bones.
“You coming?” I ask, skating back to the bench and holding out my palm for her.
She takes my hand and glides onto the ice like an angel. I pull her into me, turning us in a small spin.
Her eyes widen as she looks up at the arena. “Wow, so this is what it looks like from your perspective.”
“Mhm,” I mumble, but again, my eyes are locked on her. I take her hand. “Let me show you my favorite spot on the ice.”
We skate until we’re in perfect view of the suite she usually sits in when she comes to games, unless she chooses to sit in the lower bowl. Even then, she’s in this area, in the third row. I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her, and pointing up to the suite. “Perfect view.”
Lydia looks up. “I like it up there, too. I love seeing you on the bench. You’re always so focused. It’s hot watching you play.”
I choke on air and clear my throat. My dick throbs in my pants, and I have to subtly adjust myself before saying, “Ready to teach me some tricks?”
“Absolutely.” She giggles, clearly seeing my reaction.
We skate back to center ice, and Lydia explains how to do a loop jump. She’s such a good coach. It sounds like another language, the things she’s saying, but when she puts it all together, it makes perfect sense.
“I’m not going to do a full demonstration,” she says. “I don’t trust my center of gravity anymore.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t really thinking when I came up with this idea.”
She shakes her head. “I love this idea, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
“Same.”
She adds a few more notes, showing me with her body how to take off and land, and showing me what to do with my arms. I stand next to her, mirroring each movement, then she sends me out to give it a try.
I can totally nail this, no problem. I’m a professional, and six-year-olds do these tricks all the time. I got this.
I replay her instructions in my mind, skating backward, gaining speed, ready to propel myself. Holding my arms out, I turn and lift off the ground, only to promptly land on my ass with a loud grunt.
Laughter fills the air as I sit up, finding Lydia clutching her stomach, her phone in her hand.
“Did you record that?” I stand and wipe off my ass.
“Yes,” she says through her laughter. “Maybe we should start with a bunny hop instead.”
“A bunny hop? I can do a bunny hop. I jump all the time!”
“Show me.”
She demonstrates a bunny hop, and I do it, no problem.
“Told you,” I grumble. “I’m going to try again.”
“Try not to dip your right shoulder and stay straight during takeoff.”
I repeat the movements, and this time, I land it, only to look up and see Lydia. I get lost in her beaming smile and proud eyes. Which promptly sends me backward on my ass again.
“What the fuck!” I groan as I stand.
“Practice makes perfect.” Lydia leans against the boards.
I do it again, this time paying more attention to my shoulders and posture. When I land, I wobble a bit but hold steady.
“You did it,” Lydia shouts. “It was a bit sloppy, but we’ll work on it.”
For the next hour, I practice until I’m consistently landing them, only falling every once in a while when Lydia distracts me with her smile.
Then, I hold out my hand, looping our fingers together as we skate slow laps around the rink.
We spend a long time talking, making plans for the future, and I dream of the day we can bring our little girl along with us to an evening like this.
“I think that’s probably enough for the day,” I say when my body aches in unexpected ways.
Lydia wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank you,” she says, pulling my head down for a long kiss. Her lips and cheeks are cold.
We kiss at center ice, and for a moment, I’m in a dream. My girl in my arms, in my favorite place. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
Well, maybe a championship win, but that’s not the point right now.
I reluctantly pull away, my heart pounding.
“What are we doing the rest of the night?” Lydia questions with a dazed look in her eyes. A look I now recognize after New Year’s.
She wants more, and so do I.
“Whatever you want, beautiful.” I take her hand and pull her off the ice, leading us back into the locker room where I shut and lock the door behind me.
Lydia drops down in my spot, bending to unlace her skates.
“I’ve got them.” I rush over, dropping to my knees to do it for her. I pull them off her feet, but don’t put her boots back on.
I take my own skates off and hang them on my locker, kneeling back down and resting my hands on her thighs, slowly gliding up and down her tights-covered skin.
“What are you doing?” Lydia asks with a humorous glint in her eyes. She glances around the empty room.
I shrug, letting a smirk cross my lips. “I’ve always dreamed of having you in here.”
Lydia’s lips contort into a frown. “Like… having me in here? Or having me in here.”
I wink.
The frown stays on her face. “Ew. It smells gross in here.”
My jaw drops. “What? No, it doesn’t. It’s so clean in here.”
“The sweaty foot smell almost made me puke when we first walked in. I don’t even think I could blame it on my pregnancy. It’s nasty. I am all for ticking off lists and fantasies, but I think this one might need to stay a fantasy.”
“Ugh.” I groan and stand. “Fine. But you owe me.” I peck her on the lips.
“Gladly.” She closes her eyes and kisses me deeply. Her hands roam my chest, and my pulse ramps up in delight. I love it when she lets her body take the lead.