Logan
jacket tighter around himself, cut down to the bone from the chill in the arena. He expected his seat to be further up into the stands, unsure of how filled the rink might be, but received the surprise of his life.
Instead of a nosebleed lost in the crowd, his seat was in the second row from the ice with a pristine view of the action. He almost felt guilty when he thought about the teenage girl who would’ve killed to be in his spot. Almost.
He had a sneaking suspicion Ava preferred him as her guest to some stranger.
His eyes raked over the packed rows of skating fans, taking in the signs and gifts held by the audience. Logan cradled the bundle of roses he purchased from a local vendor against his chest. Ava left the hotel early in the morning for the tournament. Korin returned later to retrieve Logan for Ava’s short program.
He watched her stretching to the side, a dark and glittering shadow compared to the otherwise pastel and bold jewel-tone costumes. Her dark hair piled into a tight bun like a ballerina, adding to the sophisticated attitude of her black satin gloves and gold make-up.
She looked like a Black Swan, a concept Ava explained to him during the plane ride to Croatia. Korin switched seats with Logan and took his spot a few rows back, giving them space. Neither he nor Ava made any moves beyond linking their hands under a shared blanket.
On the same ride, Logan asked for some lessons on how figure skating worked. Ava rambled for nearly three hours when explaining the scoring system and the transition from the six-point system to IJS. The terminology swirled around in his head, and the complexities of the sport humbled him a little.
While Ava paced her narrow stretch of the rink, she glanced toward the crowd. Logan raised his hand in a wave. He grinned, hoping to catch her eye while swarmed by other adoring fans.
Ava turned her head, lips moving in what he assumed was a conversation with Korin, and she dropped her leg from behind her bun. Her face brightened, and she waved back at him, the sweetness of her smile contrasting her dark costume.
Logan didn’t drop his hand until Ava spun away, focusing on Korin when he tipped his head. Logan’s eyes watched their mouths and played a game of picking out every third word, scrambling to decipher their rapid-fire conversation.
He leaned forward in his seat, hands tucked under his knees to regain some feeling in his fingers. He underestimated how long he’d sit in the stands before the skaters took the ice, regretting not bringing a pair of gloves.
Logan’s eyes skimmed around the arena at the other skaters, curious if figure skaters sized each other up the way he and his teammates did to their opponents. With all the considerations Ava described in each routine, he couldn’t imagine how competitive each girl was.
“At least hockey guys don't smile in your face while imagining slicing your legs out with their skates," Logan mumbled under his breath, dodging the odd expressions of the people around him. Most looked at him like he had grown a third head instead of talking to himself under his breath.
His head snapped up toward the glass ceiling of the arena when a booming voice filtered over the speaker, "The Golden Spin Ladies' Short Program will begin momentarily. First up to skate, from the United States, Averie Laurier with Danse Macabre."
A roaring applause erupted from the crowd around the arena. Logan's throat hurt at the thought of attempting to match their energy. He shouted Ava's name into the void, consumed by the sheer amount of noise, and Ava waved for the cameras.
Her smile shimmered, and she bounced, basking in the attention of the entire arena on her. Still, she managed to accept every moment on camera in such stride.
Not even the recipient of the crowd’s adoration, their "Champion!" chants sent a shiver down Logan’s spine, striking him with awe as fast as lighting. Electrifying, he thought, how hard people loved Ava and her skating. He hoped to touch even a fraction of her fame and earned people’s excitement to see him on the ice.
He held his breath when Ava faced him in the crowd, their eyes connecting despite the noise and excitement buzzing around him. She laid her hand over her heart; Logan mimicked her silent gesture, made as another promise. He was rooting for her.
Ava's head tipped toward the ceiling when Korin grabbed her shoulder and guided her to the rink's edge, taking her skate guards when she popped them off. Logan scooted to the edge of his seat and listened to the crowd simmer down.
They fell under Ava’s spell as soon as her first skate touched the ice, and the rush of the quiet blanketing over the audience slammed into Logan's chest. From the heated energy of their thrill, the suddenness of their silence felt like a bucket of ice water to the head.
Ava skated to the middle, scrunching into her starting position with her head tipped toward the ice. Even from a distance, Logan noticed the slight twitches in her body like a bird shedding its wings, but Ava shook off the nerves.
When she hung still long enough, the opening swell of the orchestral track blared over the otherwise silent area. Ava burst to life, pushing out of the middle capturing Logan's attention. He thought he knew what to expect and how entrancing Ava's performance skills would be. After watching a few livestreams of her past performances, her live practices took his breath away.
Yet, the performance before his eyes transcended his wildest imagination with how graceful Ava moved. The camera couldn’t capture every little detail infused into her performance, not like how his eyes did.
Ava’s little brow lift whenever she stuck the landing on a jump, and the ghost of a menacing smile written into her facial features portrayed the vision of a champion who knew her worth in spades. She exuded the gold painted across her eyelids and stitched into the fabric of her costume, showing everyone in the room why she deserved another medal in her collection.
Logan stared after her, mouth unable to shut while he witnessed his girlfriend's glory. Ava glided over the ice as effortlessly as breathing, defying gravity with every jump. Logan swore he became dizzy while watching Ava spin, a blur of black fabric and pale skin illuminated underneath the spotlight. No one else in the room stood a chance, did they?
Not when Ava had command of the rink.
Ava’s pace quickened to the frenzied cries of the music, lost in the performance she put on for the audience. Yet, she glossed her eyes across the crowd before crossing to the center, spinning with no fault to her form.
As she struck her final pose, the drop of a pin could be heard. But the thunderous applause filled the void without reservation, loud enough to shatter the ceiling into a million fragments like the fall of glassy snowflakes. Ava’s chest heaved while the audience tossed their offerings onto the rink, burying her in a shower of flowers and plush toys.
Logan rose onto his feet, blending into the crowd, and tossed his roses into the rink. But his aim and arm strength landed the roses at the foot of Ava’s skates, and she scooped the bundle up. She brought the flowers to her nose and smiled, which Logan hoped she meant for him.
He had been the only one to buy purple roses.
Ava plucked a fluffy ram plushie near her feet and skated toward the rink’s edge, unable to hide her smile. She glided past all the presents, and Korin helped her off the ice, immediately mouthing something to her.
Ava nodded, but Logan noticed her sneaking glances in his direction. He flashed a discreet thumbs-up, and she shared one, too. Her gaze lingered on him while Korin walked her to the kiss and cry, shielding her lovestruck eyes from the camera's view.
Logan's heart thumped against his chest, oddly nervous for the score announcement. In no world would anything less than a perfect score make sense. Ava held the audience captive with every move, every expression change, and every second of music. Still, he paused for the score.
When Ava sat on the bench with Korin, her confident posture dropped slightly, and she stared at the ice. Not the crowd or him. Logan scooted to the edge of his chair and tucked his hands together, eyeing the judges behind their screens. Do the right thing . . . give Ava the score she deserved.
His knee bounced as the minutes dwindled past, not interested in the music playing over the intercom to placate the chatty crowd. His eyes focused on Ava and her not-so-subtle ways of masking her nerves, evident with how she kept picking at the jacket Korin slipped over her shoulders.
When the intercom’s music stopped, the announcing voice remarked, "The scores, please! For Averie Laurier, the scores . . ." Logan strained to listen when the audience exploded into another round of applause and cheers, missing the numbers. But when his eyes darted to Ava, the wide-eyed but slack-jawed smile told the story he needed to hear.
He glanced around and clapped hard, jumping out of his chair. People around him followed his lead, and other bits of the crowd rose to their feet, awarding a standing ovation. Korin and Ava warmly hugged, and Ava waved to the audience.
“. . . She currently is in first place!” The announcement informed as the crowd settled to hear the next skater’s entrance, but Logan slumped back in his chair and focused on Ava. He had a good feeling Ava would hold control of the leaderboard going into the free skate, set for three days from then.
***Logan stopped outside the hotel room door, ready to knock, and checked the numbers on his phone. The sweepstakes hosted him and Ava on separate floors, but she sent over her room number on their first night in Croatia. Neither had seen the other outside Korin's supervision, and Logan wondered if Korin suspected something.
Regardless, he rocked on his heels outside her hotel room and knocked on the door with nothing to lose. He missed her. He needed to see her beyond meals with Korin supervising, sightseeing with Korin trailing two feet behind, or competitions and practices where Logan watched from the stands.
They had one more rest day between that evening and the free skate, so Logan thought to make the time count with a date. However, he hadn't planned anything beyond him and Ava sneaking out of the hotel without Korin.
Logan waited for a response, almost worried Ava had been snatched away for an interview or some impromptu socialization with the other skaters. He lifted his hand to knock again but dropped it when he heard the latch slide open.
Ava leaned against the half-opened door and its frame, smiling. Her hair hung loose around her face, a surprise since she usually kept her hair pinned back instead of cascading to her mid-back. However, her choice in attire took Logan's prepared greeting of a flirtatious, corny joke and threw it out the fifteenth-story window.
Ava wore his jersey. Only his jersey.
The expanse of bare thighs peeked out from the hem of the oversized jersey, emblazoned with his name and number. He hadn't expected Ava to pack the jersey in her clothes, not when the weekend was about her. But those thoughts quickly vanished when Ava's arms stretched and pulled the hem of Logan's jersey higher.
Logan, focus. Don’t look at her legs.
Despite his brain rushing to reel his scattered thoughts in, Logan swore he forgot basic greetings. He blinked at Ava, who barely hid her smile, and stammered, “You—that’s—I think you’ve short-circuited my brain.”
Ava giggled and grabbed his hands, pulling him inside, "Aww, come on, Logan. Me wearing your jersey isn't distracting, is it?"
“You’re such trouble,” Logan breathed out, voice barely able to scratch above a whisper. Ava shut the door behind them; she slid her finger over the deadbolt, and the latching squeak stoked the pulsing warmth trickling into Logan's stomach. "Did I interrupt you? We had plans to go out."
Logan knew those plans fell apart when Ava opened the door wearing nothing but his jersey, but he wanted to hear Ava ask him. Stay in. Lock the door. Kiss those perfect lips like he would never get another chance.
Who cared about exploring Croatia when Ava looked at him with her brown eyes shaking off their doe-like innocence?
He could take her out to dinner back home. He would give her the most romantic walk in the heart of town and reserve the rink for a skating night whenever she wanted. But when she batted her lashes at him and traced her fingers along his forearm, eyes drenched in unspoken desire, his mouth considered claiming hers for himself.
"We can reserve an hour of free time tomorrow after I practice. The city won't disappear if we decide to . . . stay in and order room service?"
“You’re so right. I’m game for whatever you want.”
“Good, because I know exactly what I need.”
Logan’s hands pulled Ava to him, lifting her off her feet to giggles. He marched to the foot of Ava’s king bed and unceremoniously tossed her into the soft duvet. The mattress bounced when Ava’s petite frame landed in the plush layers of blankets, breathlessly smiling up at him.
Logan’s hands pulled off his boots and socks, ready to discard them at the foot of the bed. He grinned, leaning toward Ava when she slid closer to him, sharing his enthusiasm. Her hands curled into the shirt Logan almost took off, bringing his mouth closer.
Their lips collided in a rush, and they collapsed onto the bed mid-kiss. Logan's hands held him up before he crushed Ava to the mattress, posting them on opposite sides of her head. She tugged him onto the bed by his shirt, and he complied, crawling further onto the mattress without daring to break their locked lips.
Ava moaned gently and slid her hands from his chest, sliding around his neck to curl into his hair. The firm tug of her fingers in his hair turned Logan’s remaining rational thoughts into a puddle of nonsense, finding meaning in Ava’s lips alone.
The kisses became more insistent, more demanding of one another. Logan's weight pushed the mattress to dip, and he stumbled to find his footing with Ava's body tangled around his. His body slid, and Logan groaned when Ava's legs locked around his torso to hold him down, prompting him to open his eyes.
He stared at how his body perfectly rested between her legs, at a loss for words. Ava’s thighs boxing his body in caused the hem of his jersey to ride up hard, flashing the first peek of lace trim.
His face heated, and his eyes snapped up to Ava's, finding her staring at him while breathing hard. Her lips flushed a dark pink, puffier than before he allowed his deepest desires to get the better of him. Yet, the hungry gleam buried into Ava's eyes threatened to bring him onto his knees if he hadn’t already been.
“Keep going?” asked Logan.
"Yes. Please don't stop." Ava nodded but barely got the words out before Logan guided their lips together. He brought one hand to push her hair away from her face and delicately gripped her by her chin, keeping her eyes level.
“If you need me to stop, you have to tell me. I won’t be upset if you change your mind—”
“Thank you, but I don’t want you to stop.”
“Tell me if or when that changes, okay? Right away.”
"Yes, Logan." Ava reached into the end table drawer and pulled out a laminated flyer, holding one side up to show the menu. “Now, we can order whatever we like. This is my date to cover the bill.”
Logan chuckled and set the menu aside, admiring Ava's flushed cheeks and perfectly kissable mouth. He dropped his face into her neck and listened to the hitch in Ava's throat when he skimmed over her skin. He laid a few ghost-like kisses to the column of her throat, and each one elicited the tiniest dip in her throat.
“Aww, are you suddenly shy, pretty girl?” Logan cooed as he dragged his fingertips over Ava’s bare thighs, utterly wrecked by every noise and gasp for air she let out. No dream would ever be sweeter than pleasuring Ava.
“I can’t have hickeys on my neck. My free skate costume shows off my chest area,” Ava panted. Her hips gave a tiny buck when Logan grazed his teeth over the sensitive spot. She whimpered, "Logan, please."
"I wouldn't dare to get you in trouble. Tell me where to go, and I'll be there."
“I have a better idea. I’m the only one who can’t have marks.”
“Is that—” Logan didn’t finish his statement when Ava’s legs rolled them over, landing her on top. She straddled his lap and boxed him in with her hips, smirking proudly at his shock. “Oh.”
Ava leaned in, holding her mouth a breath away from his, and sighed, “Order for us. I’ll keep busy, don’t worry.” She buried her face into the crook of his neck and kissed hard at the skin, sending Logan’s mind into the gutter.
One hand pressed into her back to hold her close, and the other shakily picked up the phone on the hook, losing focus with every rough ministration of Ava's lips down the column of his throat. Her sloppy, eager kisses marked his skin, and Logan imagined each hickey she left behind, groaning when she switched sides.
“Ava, please—”
“Yeah, darling?”
“—do whatever you want.”
"Mmm, alright." Ava's hand slipped underneath the hem of his shirt and ran her fingers up his abdomen, leaving Logan struggling to keep his eyes open. He blindly dialed the number for the front desk and tucked the phone to his ear.
He listened to the phone ring until an accented voice picked up on the other line, “Front desk. How may I help you?”
“Uh—I’m in Room 1583. I’d like to order some room service.”
"Excellent, sir. What would you like?"
Logan's eyes rolled back when Ava laid a rough bite against his neck and smoothed it over immediately with a kiss, "Um. I'll order the Honeymoon triple course, please," he read off the menu, and the items were unrecognizable to him in his . . . distracted state.
“Ah, an excellent choice,” the man on the other line complimented, but Logan begged him to hurry before he lost his mind. Ava’s hips pushed down on his, sliding lower, and he wanted to touch her back. “Chicken or steak?”
“Chicken, please.”
“Any wine?”
“No, thanks.”
"Alright, sir. It'll be twenty minutes until it’s ready—" Logan's willpower caved before the end of the sentence, and he clapped the phone back on the hook. He scowled up at Ava, who stopped kissing his neck.
He huffed, “Admiring your handiwork?”
"Absolutely." Ava licked her lips and raked her eyes over him, tempting Logan to regain control. "Have I told you how good you look with my hickeys?"
"I'm sure I'll hear all about it later. But I need to make it even," Logan remarked, and with a hand bunching Ava's jersey, he yanked it over her head and threw it into the corner. He wanted the damn thing far away.
His eyes traced down, finding her braless and in a cute pair of lace-trimmed underwear. He groaned, and Ava covered her chest. But Logan's hands removed her arms, sitting up to bury his face in her shoulder.
The scent of vanilla lingered on her skin, and Logan traced his lips along the curve of her collarbone. His thumb brushed over the stiffened peak of her nipples, eliciting a squirm and whine from Ava. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me. You’re stunning, Ava.”
“I’ve never been told that before,” her voice trembled when Logan circled a thumb around her other nipple. Logan’s hands slid around to caress her back with feather-light touches. “Say it again.”
“You are fucking stunning, Ava. Can I have you tonight? Please.”
“You want me? All of me?”
“Yes,” Logan downright begged, pulling his face back to meet Ava’s eyes. He grabbed one of her hands and guided her to grab a fistful of his shirt. The room ceased to exist beyond him, her, and the bed. The intimate glow in her eyes told him to go slow and be gentle. “Go ahead. Take my shirt off.”
“Okay, I will . . .” Ava murmured, peeling his shirt off his torso and chest, revealing the toned muscles from years of hockey training. Logan helped her pull his shirt over his head and toss it into the abyss of nowhere.
"I want you. I'm thankful for whatever you share with me," Logan promised, cupping Ava's chin between his fingers, and she scooted closer. She shivered, and their noses brushed together, holding them back from a kiss.
“I want you—”
But a knock on the door caused them to freeze, glancing toward the sound. Logan’s heart rattled when he and Ava’s heads snapped toward one another, hearing Korin’s voice on the other side, “Ava? Are you in there?”
"Should I hide?" asked Logan, confronted with the possibility of being caught with his girlfriend by her coach. He glanced warily at the slit under the bed and wondered if he could fit if he slid underneath with his clothes.
“No, I’ve got this,” Ava shushed him, and Logan obeyed her command. She leaned onto his shoulder, and Logan's head tipped back, stifling a curse when he hardened against Ava's thigh. The small squeak escaping her before she spoke told him she felt it. "Hey, Korin!”
“How are you feeling? You worked hard at practice today.”
"I'm tired. Can I take a nap? I'll meet you and Logan for fresh air in a few hours."
"That sounds good. Have you heard from Logan since earlier?"
“I think he wanted to look at some gifts for his family back home. I’ll call him and inform him of the change of plans. Thanks.” Ava put on her best pretend yawn, and Logan's chest clenched at the silence. If Korin had a key, he would be in deep shit.
“Sounds good,” Korin’s voice faded like he stepped back from the door. "Get some rest, and I'll return in a few hours to check on you."
Logan sighed in relief while he counted Korin’s footsteps until they vanished, seeing Ava relax into his arms, “Nice job. Feel bad about lying to him later, okay?”
“I don’t feel bad. I’ve been wanting this for too long,” Ava laughed against Logan’s ear. Logan rolled them over, glad to be back on top.
"You wouldn't happen to have a condom, would you? I wasn't anticipating being seduced tonight and forgot to run to the nearest store," asked Logan, a tad sheepish. He didn't want to be the mood killer but wouldn't demand Ava to have risky sex.
But, to his surprise, Ava leaned over and opened the drawer next to the bed. She reached in and pulled out a few foils with a smile. “I may have run into the store with the excuse of needing feminine products.”
“That’s what you bought earlier? Naughty.”
“You should call it thinking ahead.”
“As you wish.” Logan accepted one of the foils from Ava and held the wrapper between his teeth while his hands hooked into the elastic waist of her underwear. “I’m taking them off.”
Ava nodded and lifted her hips for Logan to roll her underwear down, blushing redder than a stop sign. Logan admired the soft dip in her thighs; he panted from looking alone. He needed her, to be inside her, and to give everything he could offer to her.
“You’re staring . . .” Ava’s voice gently nudged him out of his stupor. Logan realized he had been engrossed in admiring her body. He'd been naked with a girl before, but Ava made him feel like it was his first time.
“You’re stunning. I know I said it before, but I’m so screwed.” Logan swallowed, stroking his fingers along her inner thigh. He set aside the condom with every intent to grab it, but Ava had his rapt attention. Ava’s shivers and the subtle part open of her legs threatened to knock him over the edge. “Tell me you need me. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I need you, Logan. Please fuck me.” Ava didn’t hesitate with the pleading, wholly desperate cry from her lips. Logan’s hands wrangled to abandon his sweats and boxers at the foot of the bed. He snatched up the condom and ripped the wrapper open, rolling the rubber over his stiff dick.
Ava, his sweetest fantasy and the hardest temptation to deny, propped up on her elbows and eagerly shifted her hips. Logan edged closer to her, on his knees, and lifted her hips to line up. His eyes found hers. "Change your mind?"
“Not in the slightest.”
“Then I won’t deny you.”
Logan pushed into her, slow to add another inch, and Ava’s back arched off the bed. Her hands scrambled to grasp the sheets, but Logan slid his hands under hers. He brought her arms to rest on opposite sides of her head while he pushed in a little more, letting Ava adjust to him.
Ava's cries of his name prompted her fingers to lace with his, and Logan squeezed delicately, holding eye contact with her. Ava struggled to open her eyes and whimpered, "Is there more?"
“A little more. You’ve got this, Ava.” Logan pressed his forehead to Ava’s. She nodded, blessing him with pleading moans and breaths slipping off her lips with such reverence. Logan’s mouth occasionally stole her breath and swiped a kiss, waiting for her permission to move.
She guided him, and he followed her every desire.
Ava’s eyes opened after a moment. “Go. Go. Logan, go—”
His hips rocked hard and eagerly, struggling to hold back in his chase for release. Logan swore Ava's moans echoed in his head and set him ablaze, a ravenous and untamable need for her. The thought of sex no longer existed without her in mind, forever ruined for anyone who came before her and, god forbid, after her.
"Talk to me, pretty girl. I want to hear you tell me what you need and want from me."
“Faster, please—I need faster—I love it—” Ava begged, and her hips rutted against Logan's with desperate friction. Logan knew he wouldn't last long, even before Ava began to grind her hips in her arousal. Still, she threatened to make him finish embarrassingly fast.
Their hands clasped together, becoming the lifeline while they recklessly chased pleasure in one another. Logan couldn't think or breathe while Ava called his name and begged for more, pleading for him to lose control.
She tightened her legs around his hips, holding him down with a gasp. Logan’s eyes widened, “Are you close?”
“I haven’t been touched in a long time, not like this. I’m already so close,” Ava confessed, burying her face in Logan’s shoulder. Her hands raked down his back, and he slowed his thrusts down, prompting a choked moan of his name.
“That’s my girl. You can finish.”
“Logan, I—”
“Let go, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”
Ava clamped a bite into his shoulder and cried out, but Logan felt her clench around him. He closed his eyes and forced out a few more pitiful thrusts while she shook before he collapsed with a finish. He couldn't stop a laugh from escaping him, and Ava laughed, too.