Page 22 of Merry Pucking Christmas
York
Now that I’m kissing her, I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. It’s a reckless kind of selfishness, but the thrill of it courses through me like wildfire. I know this could all end in disaster, with my heart charred and left in ruins, but the thought doesn’t stop me. Every moment I spend kissing Noelle feels too precious to waste.
“Noelle,” I whisper against her lips, my voice low and urgent.
“Yes,” she responds, her breath mingling with mine, and I feel an intoxicating rush at the sound of her voice.
“I need more,” I admit, not sure how much more I’m asking for. It’s a vague plea, but it’s the truth. The only thing on my mind is the way her lips feel against mine, soft and inviting, drawing me in deeper.
She pulls away just enough to look into my eyes, her bright blue gaze searching mine. “Me too,” she replies, and there’s anunspoken understanding that flows between us. Her eyes give me permission to pursue this newfound connection, and my heart races at the thought.
I glance around, suddenly aware of our surroundings. Making out on the bustling streets feels wrong, like we’re putting on a show for anyone who might be watching. My mind races as I search for a more private place, somewhere we can dive into this moment without the prying eyes of the world.
Then it hits me—the rink. I remember the access code Coach punched in this morning, and I know it’s closed today. Perfect.
“I have an idea,” I say, my voice laced with excitement as I grab her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. I can’t help but smile at her as we weave through the crowd, my heart pounding with anticipation. The thought of stealing a moment with her in the rink sends a thrill through me, and I can’t wait to see where this leads.
It’s not long before we make our way there. No one is around, which sends relief coursing through my veins.
I’d hate to be caught.
I punch in the code of the back door, and she giggles as the door opens.
“Are we even allowed in here?”
I squeeze her hand as we enter. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Her eyes gleam and I won’t be able to fucking breathe if I don’t kiss her again. I push her softly against the door, and wrap my arms around her waist. Our lips meet and once again I’m kissing her.
My body hardens in an instant, and I push against her, needing to feel that relief. Our kiss deepens, and I tug her closer to me, wanting to feel all of her against me. There’s just too much damn clothing.
But we can’t just have sex right here up against the rink door. I glance around, looking for anything that I can use. I could go into the lounge area, but I know there’s cameras in there. That’s the last thing I need happening.
“Follow me,” I say, grabbing her hand to lead her to the back of the rink.
“Are there cameras?” she asks with a tiny giggle.
I glance back at her and am once again struck silly by how fucking beautiful she is. Seriously, how am I the luckiest guy right now? I shake my head slowly. “There’s a few in the main areas, but I have an idea.”
She rushes along behind me, our fingers laced together. I pull her closer, needing every bit of her. I move the two of us into an alcove where the Zamboni is stored. I nod at it.
“I want you to ride me,” I tell her, my cock hardening at the mere thought of having Noelle’s pussy sinking down over my dick.
Fuck. I’m getting so worked up, and we’ve barely done anything yet.
Her eyes brighten as she glances at the machinery. “You want to have sex on the Zamboni?”
I nod, a smile spreading slowly. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Together we make our way onto the Zamboni, and I sit in the driver’s seat. I glance up at her, and I swear she takes my breath away everytime I look at her.
“Take off your clothes,” I demand, and she blinks at me.
“Um…”
“No need to be shy, Noelle.”
“I’m not shy,” she stutters. “It’s just that you’re you and, well, I’m me.”