We continued to make our way around the ice, Evan lazily coasting backward as I tried to skate. I didn't tell him this wasn't my first time ice skating, but then I thought I could tease him a little. My strides became longer and smoother, and he looked at me when I skated past him. "You're such a little liar."
"Hey, I couldn't give away all my secrets." His eyes narrowed at me. "And I never said I couldn't skate. You didn't ask."
"Since you're so good on your feet, whaddaya say we play a game of one-on-one." I quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting for what he was going to say next. "Only I make the rules."
"What do you have in mind?"
He chuckled with mild amusement. "For every goal you score, I take something off, but for every one I block, you take something off."
"Is it safe?" I asked, clearing my throat as though I actually had to think about it.
"Are you afraid you can't get it past me?"
"No, I'm afraid some old dude on a Zamboni is gonna walk in and see me naked."
"We're all alone," he said playfully, skating over to the bench. He leaned over the boards and grabbed two sticks and a puck.
He let it fall to the ice, the sound echoing throughout the arena. Handing me one, he said, "Ready?"
I gave him a nod, unsure of how exactly to play the game, but I understood the general idea. Get the puck in the goal.
We stood there facing each other. He defended his goal and I stood in front of him with my most intimidating glare. It was all he could do not to laugh.
I tried to act like I had moves, and I didn't, but when I shot the puck at the goal, he let it go by. He didn't even try for it. His jersey came off with that goal.
I smiled, feeling confident, only I knew that one would probably be my one and only goal. I wasn't so sure he was going to let the other ones go as easily.
Next one, same thing. I took my shot and he acted like he was going to get it but missed it.
"This doesn't look that hard, Evan," I said, mocking him, trying to get under his skin.
"You've never met a defenseman like me on the ice, though, in a game where I'm all over you."
I smiled again when he took off his chest pads. "You're right, Mase, I've never met someone like you."
When he grinned, I took another shot between his legs and scored again.
"You're not even trying!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms up and dropping my stick to the ice. Then I crossed my arms over my chest. It was a little hard to do it with all the gear, but I think...I hoped...I proved my point.
With a determined glare, I picked up my stick and skated back a little ways and tried my shot again. I swung as hard as I could and that asshole just simply pivoted a little to the right and deflected the puck as if I had thrown a rice cake at him. My swing felt really good. I thought for sure it would have went sailing right into the goal, and he'd be taking his compression pants off.
I gave another glare when he chuckled. "You didn't want me to take it easy on you."
I reached for my helmet, I wasn't taking off my clothes that easy until Evan stopped me. "Helmet stays."
I threw my gloves down instead.
"You know..." Evan circled around me, his eyes low and focused on the ice before he came back around, his stick tucked under his chin as he leaned on it. In a motion that was meant to tease the hell out of me, and was quite possibly the sexiest thing he'd ever done, his eyes traveled the length of my body before focusing on my face. Sighing, his tone was rough. "Dropping your gloves only means one thing: you're ready to throw down."
After that, I was intently focused on trying to get him down to his underwear or even better—naked. I did not succeed. Instead, I was down to my bra and underwear with just a jersey on.
When I shot again, and he naturally deflected it, the bra went with it, but I still had the jersey on.
Evan's eyes were on my breasts when I took my next shot and I managed to get one in.
Gloating to myself, Evan circled me with a smile. I felt like I was his prey the way he kept skating around me.
"I'm pretty awesome," I mocked with a purse of my lips that erupted into squeal when he hip checked me, catching me off guard with the sudden movement.
"You have no idea what you just started," he warned, grinning, lingering back a bit. I could tell he was still poised to move at any moment should I let me guard down.
"I'm surprised they let you play in the NHL with moves like that. Weak." My lips curved up in a knowing smile as it finally sunk in that I wanted him to actually put some effort into this.
He groaned quietly, as if actually working for it was unheard of.
Deciding to play with him a little more, I lifted my arms and stick over my head, arching my back and pushing my chest out. The jersey moved up my body to reveal my bare legs and panties.
His stick hit the ice with a tap, and when I looked up, he was gone, vigorously skating up the ice toward the other end. When he got to the goal, he swept around the outside, his head down as he made a rush back at me. He had the puck this time, sweeping it with choppy motions from one side of his stick to the other. Each time he hit the ice with his stick, the sound echoed like someone slowly chopping vegetables.