Anna watched with nervous eyes as the timer wound down all too quickly. They just needed to score one goal to tie it up and force overtime, but the other team was just pushing too hard, and even her amazing defenseman of a boyfriend couldn't do anything to hold them off.

She sat forward in her seat, twisting her fingers in her hair as the clock came down to five, four, three, two, one – the end of game buzzer rang, and she slumped forward as half of the arena jumped up to cheer. This game had been important to him – with recruiters from the NHL coming to watch the up-and-coming D-man from Minnesota – and Anna knew he was going to be less than pleased with how poorly he played.

Blue eyes risked one glance down to the ice, and caught intense, angry, and lustful brown eyes staring back up at her. With a gulp to swallow the nervous lump rising in her throat, the red head nodded as Kristoff held up three of his fingers, signaling exactly where he would be.

It had taken some practice and a lot of failed attempts, but Anna was now officially a professional at sneaking into the locker room and grabbing a shower for her boyfriend before the other guys happened to get back there. So she moved, quickly and quietly, down the steps of the bleachers and into the door of the mens locker room, swiftly making her way to the third shower from the left – just like they had decided.

Pulling the door shut, Anna flipped the water on to make it appear occupied, sat on the bench with her feet up beside her, and waited for his signature knocks.

T-tap ta-t-tap.

Anna smirked.

She wasted no time in swinging open the door and pulling her tall, broad, blond, wonderful boyfriend into the stall, and he wasted no time in locking it behind them and pressing her hard against it.

"Hey," he mumbled as her hands roamed over his bare chest, biting back a groan when she leaned forward to suckle at his throat. Kristoff's hands touched to the back of her waist and shoulders, noting how loosely his extra jersey hung on her small frame.

But he soon became far more aware of the fact that she was still wearing it instead of the fact that it was big.

Kristoff pushed her back against the door, grabbing desperately at the hem of the jersey, and pulled it up and off of her in the blink of an eye. Before she had a chance to react, his calloused fingers were making their way under the soft cotton fabric of her bra, pushing it off of her chest and over her head. She couldn't help the titter that escaped her as he lifted her off the ground and up to wrap her legs around his towel-clad hips.

"Kris..." she started, letting it die off into a hiss as he nipped at her breast, his warm hand cupping the swell of the other.

"I need this." His voice was gruff and muffled, mouth pressed flush against her skin, and Anna could do nothing more than nod. Whatever he needed, he got.

Kristoff wedged his hand between them, carelessly sliding it down the front of her jeans, his own arousal growing when the pads of his fingertips met with her slick folds. They had learned how to work together over the years, and they always noted how often it came in handy as he tilted his head so she could bare her teeth down on his neck to silence her moans.

Sliding from his hips (not that she wanted to), Anna made quick work of removing the last of her clothing before slipping her fingers under his towel to loosen it. She watched with heaving breaths as it fell to the ground, exposing his fully hardened length, and with a bite of her lip, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

Frustration and lust were all that swam in his brown irises.

Reaching forward for her, Kristoff raised the small girl onto his hips, hooking his arms under her knees to bear the entirety of her weight. "Are you ready?"

Anna couldn't help the grin that stretched her cheeks. It amazed her how even in his most desperate of moments, the blond always made sure she was okay. Always. She gave him a firm and enthusiastic nod, slipped her hand between them and grasped his shaft in delicate fingers. She felt him lift her, felt him lower her, and felt him sliding into her with a practiced ease.

Kristoff's fingers locked together behind her back as he lifted her again, lowered her again, took a few steps as he did to press her back firmly against the wall of the shower stall. With her supported, his thrusts grew more frantic, harder, more desperate. He tugged on her hair to tilt her head back, expose more of her throat to his hungry lips, and drank in her tiny whimpers.

"K-Kris..." Her voice was quiet and weak, all of her energy focused on the heat coiling in her stomach. She touched him gently as she slid her hand down between them to stroke her clit and help bring herself over the edge. "A-Aah –!"

He leaned up, trapping her gasps in a deep kiss, rolling his tongue over hers, feeling her fingers clench tighter in the hair at the nape of his neck, groaning into her mouth as he felt her sex throbbing around him. "Almost," he grunted, pressing his forehead against hers.

But there was no holding herself back, and Anna came undone around him, crying out as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Kristoff wasn't far behind – her coming around him, endless stroking of herself, and vocalized pleasure toppling him over the edge of his own climax. The blond barely made a sound as he came, pulling his girlfriend as close to him as he could manage, pressing his open mouth flush against the skin of her collar.

It had all happened so suddenly. Never before had he come that quickly, that unexpectedly.

Kristoff couldn't move.

He settled with pressing sloppy, lazy kisses against Anna's chest.

"Love you," he heard, giggled from up above his head. Brown eyes glanced up to the red head still propped high on his hips, and he grinned. With his mind still barely forming words, he managed a broken response.

"Yeah. That. Me too."