Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mollie
Iwake up to my twenty-fifth year with a sigh already on my lips.
Though it's a Saturday, Alex is still having an early gym session.
He works out with a vigor that borders on worshipful; believe me, I've filmed nearly endless HockeyTok content about his devotion to lifting weights. Hot, on the surface.
But I do feel a burst of disappointment bloom in my chest when I see the note he left for me in the kitchen.
On the grind. Be back soon. -Alex
At least there's still a plentiful amount of coffee waiting for me. I pour a cup and try to stamp out any feelings of sadness.
I made it clear that my birthday doesn't mean anything. There's absolutely no reason for disappointment or feeling let down.
This is just another day.
Beck and Indie texted me happy birthday, so I text them back. Then I do half an hour on my aerial silks, spinning and jumping and sliding to the floor. I probably look ridiculous because I'm stuck in the doorframe, but I wear myself out and work up a sweat.
Why the fuck not? It's my birthday, after all.
After a quick shower, I start gathering my documents. I wasn't kidding about needing to go to the DMV; my license renewal is coming up in a few months.
But when I get downstairs, Alex is home, relaxing on the couch and petting Gordie. He's fresh from his own shower, wearing sweatpants and his favorite dark gray hoodie. His hair curls damply against his forehead as he lets his gaze wander over my body.
"Hey, birthday girl." His voice, low and teasing, makes goosebumps break out over my skin. "And what do you think you're doing?"
I shrug. "Going to the DMV."
He rolls his eyes. "Put your bag down. Come here."
Making a face, I set my bag down and drag myself over to him. Gordie snuffles my fingers and rolls over for pets, so I stop and give him affection. Then I turn to Alex, raising a brow. "What's up?"
Sitting back on the couch, he pats one of his big thighs. "Right here, Freckles."
My face flames, but I duck my head and sit on his lap. Alex's lips find the curve of my neck and all the hair on the back of it stands up. I sigh and melt into him as his hand comes up to cup my breast through my shirt. I squirm against him.
"What are you doing?" I ask, breathless. He sucks at a sensitive spot of my throat and grinds into me, spreading my thighs with his free hand.
"You're so delicious, Freckles," he rasps. "I should've woken you up with my tongue on your clit, but you seemed too peaceful. I regret it, in retrospect."
I laugh. "How early was this?"
"Mmm." He nibbles at my earlobe. "It was still dark out. But I can't think of a better way to start your birthday. I'll remember that for next year."
My endorphins are buzzing now and it's hard not to laugh. "Oh yeah? You're already planning on waking me up a year from now? Be serious."
Alex's lips tease my throat as his hand slips up my inner thigh. "Couldn't be more serious."
“Yeah, right. And I'm the frigging Dalai Lama.”
"Have I ever lied to you?" His fingertips brush my panties.
I lean my head back, gripping his legs where they sit just outside mine. "Fuck, Alex."
He nips my neck. "You didn't answer my question. Do I lie to you?"
He rubs in a small circle, making it exceedingly difficult to think. "No..."
"That's right." He dips his fingers under the thin fabric of my panties to lazily tease my seam, up and down. "If I say I'm going to do something, you'd better believe that I will."
All I can focus on is his rough fingers parting my seam. I roll my hips, chasing pleasure, and feel his stiff erection near my ass. Suddenly, he's not touching me enough.
"I need more, Alex," I tell him. Opening my eyes, I get up and then straddle his lap.
With a feverish kiss, I push his sweatpants down.
He laughs and helps me, sliding his pants down further until his cock is between us.
Long, heavily veined, and thicker than I can encircle with my hand, it's an angry red.
It makes my mouth water.
"Spit on it, baby," he directs. "Get it nice and wet before you fuck yourself with it."
His dirty words make me nibble on my lower lip and blush, but I do what he says, leaning close and spitting. He props his cock up and I spread the spit and precum over the bulbous tip.
"Can't believe I willingly fuck you. That thing is monstrous," I tease.
Alex grins as he lines up the crown with my pussy. "Just for that, I'm gonna fuck you rough."
He pulls my hips down, thrusting halfway in. I make a noise that's somewhere between a scream and a moan, feeling that marvelous stretch. He's too big for me. I think he always will be. But I roll against him, my hips rising and falling, my mouth falling open.
"God damn," Alex says. "You're the sexiest girl I've ever been with, Mollie. The sweetest, the funniest, the hottest..."
I can't bear his compliments, so I shush him with a finger to his lips. "Fuck me, please. I want it hard."
"So polite," he says. "Hold on."
Then he starts fucking up into me, his pace punishing, his rhythm machine-like. He tilts me back a little and hits a spot deep inside me that makes my body tense up.
"Uh... oh god." As much as I love looking at my handsome boyfriend while he fucking destroys me, I can't. My eyes clench and I'm lost to the sensation, quickly rising on the tide of an orgasm.
I come, feeling a gush of wetness between my thighs when I cry out his name. "Alex... oh! Alex!"
He grunts in my ear. "Fuck, baby."
A second later, he's filling me with come, fucking it deep in my pussy as he slows his hips. I lie on him, breathing raggedly. He drops a burning kiss to my shoulder, chuckling.
"We're going to be so late. Worth it, though."
I squirm and Alex lets me off his lap, his come dripping out onto my thighs as he pulls up his sweatpants.
"What are we late for?" I ask. The dopamine in my brain is still pulling a double load, giving me a goofy smile. "God, I can't possibly be in a bad mood now."
"Good. Having sex wasn't on the agenda, but what the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets." He wiggles his eyebrows. "I have an outfit ready for you."
"You do?" I cock my head, narrowing my eyes. "What are you planning?"
"It's a surprise. Come on." He stands up, giving Gordie a pat as he takes my hand. "I got you something good."
"Can I look now?" I ask.
Alex insisted on carrying me. I cock my head, listening, and catch a faint hum. That, coupled with the blast of icy air against my legs, means that we're likely at a rink. But why?
He sets me down. "Okay. Now you can take it off."
I rip off the blindfold and blink. Yup, we're at a rink. The arena, as a matter of fact. And there is a lone skater on the ice, waiting for us. I squint, but can't make out the details. All I know is it's a dark-haired woman.
"Here." Alex has my ice skates in his hand. "Put these on and go see who it is."
I shove my feet in my skates and lace them, looking slyly at my boyfriend. He looks particularly pleased with himself as he puts on his own skates. "Go ahead. I'll be there in a minute."
I don't wait around for him to change his mind. My blood is already pumping, my anticipation rising.
Even if nothing else good happens today, this morning with Alex was great. That's what I keep in mind as I hit the ice, skating slowly toward the woman.
She turns, and I can make out her face a little better. I come to a stop, my hands covering my mouth.
Alex brought a four-time Olympic gold medalist, Anna Harstroke, here. Petite, in amazing shape, she waves to me. Her dark hair is up in a ponytail and she wears a skating dress.
Her left leg below the knee is prosthetic; she still skates toward me as gracefully as you could please, doing a couple of smooth crossovers. My mouth hangs open and my eyes fill with tears.
"You're Anna Harstroke!" I blurt out.
She laughs like we are best friends. "I am. You're Mollie, right?"
I press my hands against my cheeks, not believing my eyes. "Right. God, you're so awesome. You've skated everywhere I want to skate. And your representation of disabled skaters has been amazing." I pause, realizing that I probably sound like a fan girl. "Sorry, you're my idol."
She laughs and offers me a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mollie. Your boyfriend flew me in to skate and talk to you about your future with figure skating."
My head whips around to Alex, who is still sitting on the bench. He waves at me and I grin like a crazy person, making a heart with my fingers. Am I too excited right now and just told my boyfriend that I love him even though we're not there yet?
Yep.
Do I regret it?
Not at all.
"So, Mollie." Anna touches my elbow, skating slowly, urging me to follow. "Tell me about skating. Why did you start?"
"My older brother is a pro hockey player," I say.
I'm so focused on my words that I skate with muscle memory.
It's smooth, unlike my words. "Uh, I was always at his games and practices.
Tagging along, watching. It looked like fun!
But the first time I saw a figure skater on the ice, I was done for.
I decided right then, at like five years old, that I wanted to figure skate for a living.
" I roll my eyes. "I know that's ridiculous—"
Anna shakes her head. "I'm living proof that it's not."
"Well, you're like... a goddess." I laugh. "Us lesser beings are all just trying to bathe in your light."
She smiles at that and we skate a slow loop together, falling into an easy rhythm. There's something about being on the ice with another skater that bypasses all the small talk. You just move and you talk and somehow both things are easier.
"What was your best memory?" Anna asks. "On the ice? The moment you knew this was your thing."
Nobody has ever asked me that before. Not my parents, not Beck, not any of the coaches I had before Savard. I think about it for a second, really think, and the answer comes up immediately and easily.