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MAX
I f Anna tugs at her clothes one more time, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. The white outfit looks incredible on her, and I can absolutely see why Sophie suggested she stand in for whatever model they hired. She looks like an ice queen with her hair down and styled in long, bouncy curls I want to wind around my hand. Her legs go on forever in whatever magic tights the Luxx brand created.
I heard her complaining about the fit to Ernst before he helped zip her into a coat that committed the outrageous crime of covering up her world-class ass. I’m somewhat a connoisseur of the female form and even I’m in awe when I look at Anna. She’s what my father would call “statuesque”, and I’ve never been quite sure what it meant until tonight. Anna is tall and looks like she could go a few rounds with me but the curves she keeps trying to cover with that coat look soft and welcoming. Here in the warm glow of the square, with Christmas music playing and trees dressed in twinkle lights and velvet bows . . . well, the whole scene is designed to make me want to unwrap Anna like the present she is.
It's far colder here than in Las Vegas, but the golden ambience of the lights strung around every pole and garland softens the chill of the night air. With every breath I take, the scents of the nearby market wrap around me like a warm scarf – chocolate, mulled wine, cinnamon, roasted chestnuts – the whole place smells like the best kitchen you could ever dream up. Even I have to admit there’s something different about Christmas in Vienna. I see a couple of teenage boys walking, hockey sticks over their shoulders and a pang hits me. Now isn’t the time for me to be focused on anything other than my game.
It's not all bad, though.
Anna is next to me, leading me toward the rink with that tight-lipped, no-nonsense look she’s perfected. She’s trying hard not to meet my gaze, as she looks ahead to where Ernst has set up his camera. Her whole demeanor screams her annoyance, and I can’t figure out how Ernst is going to magically make it appear as if she’s enjoying my company. Well, that’s his job. I know how to show up and do mine.
I sit and pull on my skates, watching out of the corner of my eye as Anna tries to sit on a different bench. Her coat bunches up and as she bends over, she can’t get the fabric out of the way. She stands, pulls off her gloves and tugs at the zipper.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I move over to where she’s struggling to unsnap the collar.
She frowns up at me. “I’m trying to get this thing off so I can do up my skates. It’s a bit snug.”
I put my hands over hers, noting the chill of her fingers. “It’s freezing out here. You can’t take off your coat.”
“It’s Vienna, of course it’s freezing. And it’s just for a minute. I need to get my skates done up.”
I shake my head. “Sit down.”
“What?”
Her whiskey-colored eyes reflect the twinkling lights above and I squeeze her hands before grabbing her gloves. “Put these back on and sit down.” I point to the bench.
Her expression turns mutinous. “Max…”
I drop to one knee, waving my hand in a flourish. “I got this, Anna. Sit down.”
I hear a sigh before she drops to the bench. “I don’t need you to tie my skates. I just need to take off this marshmallow someone thought might make a good coat.”
I unzip one of her boots and my groin tightens. I didn’t think this through. Quickly, I pull it off and hold her ankle as she wiggles her foot into the skate. My hand circles her ankle and even though the arctic air should freeze any and all of my body parts, clearly my blood runs pretty hot because my cock seems to think we’re naked in a bed and I’m gripping her ankle for an entirely different activity than the one we’re presently engaged in.
I stand as she pushes her skate down to the mats in front of the benches and then lift her leg, holding it between my knees to lace.
“Too tight?” I ask and I could be asking about my lacing technique or my pants at the moment.
“No, although I’m surprised you’re comfortable with me holding a blade this close to your …” A faint blush darkens the pink in her cheeks as if she’s just realized what she’s said. She waves vaguely at my thighs.
I huff out a laugh that’s somewhat strangled. I’m not in the least worried about the damage her skates could do to me, even though I’ve seen some pretty bad blade injuries. No, the deepest cut she can give me is a little higher up, if the way my heart skips at the wry twist of her lips is any indication. Don’t get me wrong, Anna is gorgeous and if this thing, whatever it is between us, was just physical I’d be able to deal with it.
But being around Anna is like that feeling when you smash a one-in-a-million-goal at the top-left corner that no one saw coming. It’s the game where your career hits a thousand points. It’s getting so close to the Cup you can taste the champagne sprayed on your face – anticipation, victory and love all rolled into one.
I’ve never called it what it was because no one would believe me. No one would believe that I could fall instantly, deeply, obsessively in love with someone after ten minutes.
I didn’t believe it for a long time. Lust, for sure. If it were that simple, I could have walked out the door that night with half a dozen beautiful women.
I didn’t. And in the two years since we met, my mind always goes to Anna. Felix and I don’t meet on the ice all that often, given that our teams are in different conference divisions, but whenever we do it adds an element to the game to see Anna behind the glass.
To see her watching me. I know she does. I feel it, just like I do right now, her eyes on me while I focus on tying her skates.
Touching her like this, closer than we’ve ever been since that first night is the sweetest torture anyone could dream up for me. Holding her ankle only makes me want to slide my hands further up her limbs, memorize the curve of her thighs and feel the sweet heat between her legs despite the deep chill in the air.
“Let’s move please, the wind has shifted direction.”
Ernst’s deep voice startles me, and I finish her laces off with a sharp bow, checking to make sure nothing hangs over her instep.
“Hockey skates?” I ask as she stands wiggling her ankles.
“What else would I be wearing?” She straightens her jacket and heads to the ice surface, stepping on perfectly with a practiced glide.
I follow her. “Just figured you for a toe-pick kind of girl.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Of course you did.” She does a neat pivot, the beautiful curve of her muscles looking strong as she faces me, skating backwards. “I’m not a figure skater.”
And because I’m a glutton for her kind of punishment I grin. “But you can skate?” I put enough doubt into my question to enjoy the way her shoulders snap back in offence.
“Just try to keep up, hockey boy.”
A primal spark explodes in my chest at the teasing look she throws my way while skating away. I speed up, admiring the sharp precision of her cross-overs and I wonder if she’s showing off because she wants to challenge me or impress me.
Either option is fine by me.
As we near where Ernst is positioned, he waves us over. I can’t help it, I flex my thighs, giving a power boost and twist my hips sending up an impressive spray of ice as I stop.
Ernst rolls his eyes. “This isn’t speed-skating Olympics, you two. You’re drawing a crowd. This is about the clothes and the ambience, so I need you to look less like you’re trying to race each other and more like you’re in love and having a fun time.”
“I am having fun,” I say, my chest lifting as Anna’s laughter echoes over the rink. It hits me harder than it should, her real laugh, and I spin quickly grabbing her red mitten and pulling her to me. My other hand drops to her waist and Ernst lifts the camera, nodding. The wind blows across the ice and tiny flakes of snow shimmer around us.
As we skate, I can’t help but watch her, the way she moves so in sync with me, we’re almost dancing. I know her smiles and soft touches are for the camera, but I can’t help tucking each one away with wonder, like a child trying to save an icicle.
The sounds of tourists and the excitement of children are part of the Christmas music playing in the background and Anna, with her blonde hair and red scarf floating in the breeze stands out against the lights and colors of the market behind her.
We skate in silence for a while, slipping into a rhythm that Ernst seems happy with and I’m not willing to break the moment with too many words. I should be focused on the rink, on my technique, on the fact that this is part of the job. But my eyes keep drifting to her, taking in the way her cheeks are pink from the cold, her breath visible in short clouds, her smile softer now than it was earlier.
Almost as if this is real.
As we glide past the market stalls, the scents intensify, cinnamon and vanilla, toasted almonds, and spices I can’t identify other than to say it smells like Christmas. The whole place feels like Christmas distilled, pure nostalgia and warmth, like being in a snow globe. Anna slows down arching an eyebrow.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing, just giving you a minute to catch your breath.”
I smirk, skating closer and taking her hand in mine. “You don’t need to worry about me, I can go all night.”
Her mouth opens the tiniest bit, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to kiss her. There’s something vulnerable in her eyes, something that pulls me in even though I know I shouldn’t let it. She doesn’t drop my hand and out of the corner of my eye I see Ernst taking rapid-fire shots. Our breath rises in soft puffs, curling together in the icy air, a visible reminder of just how close our lips are, and I wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s letting down her guard.
“Careful, Anna,” I murmur, letting my voice drop low. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you actually don’t hate me.”
She blinks before narrowing her eyes, lips curving into a wry smile. “If you’re fooled, then I’m clearly doing my job.”
But the way her gaze lingers for just a second too long tells me she’d forgotten about this being a job, and I grin, feeling a distinct flicker of victory as we skate side by side into the glow of Christmas lights.