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“That’s not in her files,” I grunt, annoyed.
“Not everything will be,” Ciaran says, shrugging. “She shouldn’t be skating in the kids section. Why do you think she is?”
“She overheard us talking at the skate shop,” I smirk. “She knows all about how you’re accepting skates for oral favors.”
“No one will believe it if she said anything,” Alastair interjects, shrugging. “And if they did, our school is pretty accepting of that stuff. We’ve been friends for years. It would explain why we fuck girls but don’t date them. Not many girls would be okay with us continuing to fuck.”
“Yeah, I’m not giving either of you up,” Ciaran mutters. “I don’t really care if Moo knows I like to suck Alastair’s cock on my knees, skates or not. Thank you by the way.”
Alastair tries to help us out when he can. Ciaran and I are both from families that struggle with money at times, so Alastair takes care of it. Ciaran’s parents are also ass pimples. The really gnarly ones.
We typically won’t accept extravagant gifts unless they’re tied to hockey. We don’t want to take advantage of his generosity.
“Don’t mention it,” he says with a smile. “How do they feel?”
“Good,” Ciaran nods. “The other ones were wearing out.”
“I thought you were going to lose a blade last practice,” I say. “We need to be sharp and ready to kick some ass Friday.”
“We don’t need any distractions yet…” Ciaran looks pointedly at Noor, where she’s leaning over chatting with a pair of toddlers.
“She’s different,” Alastair sighs. “We need her foster mother to stop digging into things at the school. I think we need to get her to kick Moo out.”
“Hmm,” I grunt. “I think that might work. Doesn’t she turn eighteen soon?”
“In less than three months,” Ciaran replies.
We grin at each other because we’ve been poring over her online files for days. Noor doesn’t have any social media presence. We can’t find any evidence of any real friends, and all of her foster homes have been disastrous.
I would feel bad about the things I’ve read if I gave a shit about her as a person. Unfortunately for her, she’s a means to an end.
“If she was at a group home, they’d kick her out and be done with her,” I say. “We should make sure that’s what happens. One way or another, we need her to break ties with the Dentons.”
“Here she comes,” Alastair crows. It’s so loud, no one else hears, but I watch her as she switches ice rinks.
Noor begins to march on the ice before pushing into glides across it. Her hair moves slightly as she moves through different exercises. Again, they may be different from hockey, but I can recognize a ritual when I see it.
Glides turn into her skates moving forward and back in swizzle motions, and then she converts to moving across the ice with varying sizes of swizzles. Noor builds up her endurance as she skates, but even I can see when she begins to flag.
Having a body that fights what you want has to suck.
Skating in her direction, I stop in a way that showers her with ice.
“That’s…adorable,” she says, breathing hard.
“You’re better on the ice than I thought you’d be,” I say, ignoring her. “That wheezing sounds like you should lay off the smoking.”
I know why she’s breathing hard. I like to see the blush of anger flood her cheeks. It fills her with life, and makes me very interested in finding out how far that blush goes. If we’re tearing off the kid gloves, it means that we will find out soon if her tits bounce when she takes a cock deep in her cunt or if she really does bite when she chokes down my dick.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she growls. Her feet lift slowly up and down, and I make a note of it as I watch her.
Why is her weight always shifting?
“Then, by all means, show me,” I taunt, smirking.
“You’re in my way,” she mutters. She’s right, I’ve boxed her in, and I glance behind me so I can skate backward, giving her more space.
Noor leaves me behind, continuing her self imposed exercises. They remind me of drills as she skates quickly through a few different movements to gain speed before stopping and then beginning again.
