His brows met. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
“Oh, right—truth or dare.”
“Dare. As long as it’s to do with skating.”
“That’s not a rule, by the way. But okay: I dare you to do a back flip and land it on one foot. There. Are you happy?”
He was already stroking down the ice, concentrating before executing an almost perfect back flip even if he had to put his other foot down on the landing. We took turns, each of us trying our back flips until we were breathing hard.
Sweat dampened my forehead, and I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket before taking it off and tossing it at the bench where Henry had left his after warming up. I added in little dance moves before the flip for fun, trying to get him to smile again.
Nope. Nothing. He was laser focused, watching me silently before he took his next turn, and I could practically see his brain working on what we were doing wrong and how to improve the technique.
I didn’t really care about landing on one foot, so on my next pass I did that flossing dance move that used to be popular. I screwed up my timing and didn’t even get into the air, instead plopping back on my ass, laughing as I slid toward center ice.
Without even the hint of a smile, Henry sped by and nailed the one-foot landing—because of course he did. I applauded and hollered, and he nodded. No smile, but he looked satisfied that his hard work had paid off. I hauled myself up.
Gaining speed with a few crossovers, I shot my arms back and used my right toe pick to propel me up and over—and fuck! I landed way short, pitching forward on my toes as gravity said, “Merry Christmas, bitch!”
Now splatted flat on my stomach, I wheezed through the pain in my chest. From the corner of my eye, I could see Henry blur toward me so fast I was afraid he’d run me over, but he stopped with a sharp, whooshing turn of his blades and was on his knees at my side. He squeezed my shoulder.
“Fuck, that hurt,” I gritted out.
“Don’t talk.”
It was solid advice, so I followed it, my lungs expanding barely an inch. I sounded like my sister having an asthma attack. “’M fine,” I mumbled.
Henry stayed put, his strong hand on my shoulder. One of the emergency lights high above buzzed faintly, but it was silent except for that and my pathetic gasping. It helped a lot when he stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine.
“Are you hurt?” he finally asked.
I groaned, rolling onto my back. “Just knocked the wind out of me.”
Lips pursed, he gently examined my ribs. I’d probably have some bruising, but nothing felt broken. He stood and offered a hand, and I took it, our damp palms clasping.
Want surged through me. I wanted to tug him down on top of me to feel more of his body. I wanted to strip him naked right there at center ice and kiss every inch of him. I wanted to hear his breathy little moan of release when he came. I wanted so much, everything tripping around in my head.
I let him pull me to sitting, but I moved onto my knees. I didn’t let go of his hand. “Truth.” My chest rose and fell, my body tingling as I looked up at him. “My truth, and a dare for you. Two for one.”
He watched me warily, the lift of his eyebrow seeming to say, Go on.
“I want you to fuck my mouth.”
Henry’s eyes practically popped out of his pretty head. He looked so adorably scandalized that I had to kiss him, but he hadn’t wanted to before, so I stayed on my knees. Honestly, if I tried to kiss him now and he turned away, it would hurt too much. I couldn’t handle that rejection from him.
Which sent warning bells ringing in my head along with a voice too much like my mother’s demanding to know what the hell I was doing with the biggest competition of my life looming. What I was doing with the one man who could beat me.
He was still holding my hand. Gripping it so hard I might have worried about bones snapping if I wasn’t so turned on. And I silenced all the warnings because I’d deal with all that stuff later. Now was what mattered.
Henry wasn’t just scandalized. Even in the dim light, I could see his pupils dilate, the pink tip of his tongue dart out to lick his lips. I could hear the sharp intake of breath as he whispered, “Here?”
Hell, why not here? We were alone on the rink, and I was already kneeling on the ice, cold through my pants, and I wanted his hot dick in my mouth. I ran my free hand up his inner thigh and bit my lip.