A Weekend of Reading!

1/29/2026

After lunch, they returned to the rink. Brett donned his new skates and did some figure eights at one end while rehearsal continued. His presence gave Rylan an unexpected sense of security and boosted his confidence. His concentration was back, so he wasn’t in danger of breaking bones from a fall.

Even though Brett was skating away from the group, Rylan knew Brett watched every move he made. Rylan extended his arms and when he bent backward he didn’t miss how Brett’s gaze raked over his torso. The next movement, a Biellmann spin, required Rylan to lean forward, skate on one foot and lift the other up, reach back with both hands and grab his ankle, while gliding over the ice.

He let go and with both feet on the ice again he skated backward, gaining speed before he mimicked lifting Celia then rolling her over his back. The routine was choreographed so he’d switch between solo moves and those as a couple. That mimicked one of their more popular routines, they’d mirror each other, executing spins and jumps more common to their figure skating days. He couldn’t do those moves for an extended period anymore, but sprinkled throughout a routine was manageable. Rylan picked up speed again to transition into a leap and spun around three times before landing on the ice again. Next, he held
his arms wide, pretending Celia was in front of him, her hands in his. During the dance portion of their routine they’d twist and turn ending with Rylan swinging her up, so her feet pointed to the ceiling. After lowering her and they’d separated again, Rylan bent one knee, so he was low on the ice. Extending his other leg, he began to rotate, straightening, and raising his body until he was a spinning arrow. Digging one toe into the ice he came to an abrupt stop, sending bits of ice fountaining up. Rylan stood, one arm raised, and body arched slightly backward, breathing hard, silently counting to five before he relaxed, that part of the routine over.

It wasn’t until then he realized everyone had moved to the side, all eyes, including Brett’s were on him. Brett leaned back against the wall, smiled warmly, and held up both thumbs. That silent approval meant more to Rylan than any medal ever had. He was suddenly a bit embarrassed when the other performers began to clap and cheer. Rubbing the back of his head with one hand he looked down at the ice and skated to the side, stopping near Brett.

The choreographer hurried up to him, grabbed his face, and gave him a little shake. “That is the skater I know you are! Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

Rylan felt his cheeks burn hot, she rarely doled out such compliments. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Letting go of Rylan her gaze slid to Brett and she pointed at him. “You’re good for his concentration. Come for rehearsal tomorrow.”

Brett bowed slightly and said, “Yes, ma’am! I’d be delighted. Thank you.”

It wasn’t long before the others cleared off the ice to prepare for that night’s performance and Rylan was alone with Brett. Skating close to Rylan, Brett said softly, “You really were amazing, and you make that all look so easy.” He took Rylan’s hands and pulled him farther out onto the ice. “See, I can skate backward, too.”

Rylan laughed. Holding tightly to Brett’s hands he glided away from Brett until he stopped Brett’s progress then spun them slowly around. Brett almost lost his balance and tried to quick step a few times, except hockey skates had wider blades, but no toe picks for such maneuvers. Before Brett faceplanted on the ice, Rylan darted forward and wrapped both arms around Brett’s waist, bracing him.

“Hmm, you fell for my pretending to almost fall.” Brett pulled Rylan even closer.

“You would’ve landed on your face if I hadn’t saved you,” Rylan countered as they skated slowly, Rylan going backward this time.

“Says you.” Brett’s hands moved slowly from Rylan’s shoulder blades and brushed down his back. Rylan arched against Brett’s wide chest. Dipping his head, Brett nuzzled Rylan’s cheek, sprinkling soft kisses over his skin. His hands moved over Rylan’s round ass cheeks and he squeezed, murmuring, “You’re like a drug, addictive.”

Rylan shuddered when Brett’s fingers dug into the tender skin of his rear and he ground his pelvis against Brett’s. They did a slow spin and Rylan let his head drop back, exposing his throat to Brett’s mouth.

Brett gave a gentle push off the ice with one foot, moved one arm up, and held Rylan about the waist in a powerful grip. “I loved watching you stretch and spin. That’s fucking sexy,” Brett said right before he scraped his teeth down Rylan’s throat. Rylan arched his back farther, letting Brett support his weight. Brett’s other hand gripped Rylan’s hair, tipping his head back even more while he moved his lips up and down Rylan’s neck, then sucking ever so lightly on Rylan’s Adam’s apple.

Rylan straightened and hooked one arm around Brett’s neck, kissing him. Slight pressure from Brett’s tongue and Rylan opened his lips far enough their tongues slipped and slid over each other. They’d stopped moving and were in the center of the rink. Brett’s fingers combed through Rylan’s hair a few times before he deepened their kiss and slipped the fingers of his other hand down and between Rylan’s ass cheeks, pressing against the thong strap of his belt. The sensation made him tremble.

The sound of machinery made them both jump and separate. Brett chuckled and took Rylan’s hand, leading him off the ice as one of the crew drove the Zamboni out. “I think they want to clean the ice and prep for the show. Ready to head back to the hotel?”