DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?
After fucking Hannah against the window, I took her upstairs and cleaned her up in the shower before taking her to bed and fucking her all over again. Taking her while she wore my name on her back was hot as hell, but sinking into her face to face with every inch of her skin on full display was heaven.
Now, she was tucked securely into my side, both of us covered in sweat, our chests rising and falling rapidly after round two.
I owed my drunk self a thank you for leaving that voicemail.
Stirring, Hannah pulled out of my grasp, scooching toward the side of my massive bed.
Lazily, I sat up, circling my arms around her waist. “Stay with me.”
She peeled my hands away, slapping at them when I tried to grab her again. “Stop.”
Watching her stand beside the bed, I frowned, asking, “Where are you going?” The post-s*x high was quickly dissipating.
Naked, Hannah threw her hands on her hips. “To the bathroom. Do I need a permission slip?”
“Come back to bed.” Suggestively, I added, “I’ll clean you up.”
Her blue eyes narrowed on me, and I mentally braced for impact. “UTIs are a real bitch. I’m sure the bunnies you’ve been with like to pretend that’s
not a reality. Or maybe, they wear it as a badge of honor—a little memento of the time they fucked the Cal Berg. I hate to break it to you, but there isn’t an orgasm great enough to risk the burning sensation when I pee for the next three days.”
Is she fucking for real right now?
My hackles rising at her mention of other women, I struck back. “There she is.”
“Who?”
“The snarky bitch. You hid her for a few hours, but she was bound to make a reappearance.”
Grabbing the jersey from the ground, she held it up to cover her body. “You know what? Let’s just call this what it was. A good old-fashioned hate fuck. I can cross it off my list and move on with my life. You can go back to wrecking vaginas all over the country. Expect the bill for when I have to have mine reconstructed after you stretched it beyond recognition.”
Watching her get fired up eased any annoyance bubbling to the surface. Leaning into the argument, I smirked. “What’s the matter, Hannah? Worried you’ll never find someone to fill you the way I can?”
Not backing down, Hannah declared, “All you are is an asshole with a big dick. You want an award for that?”
“I mean . . . if you’re handing them out, I’ll take one.” “Fuck you.” She stormed out of the bedroom.
“You already did! You’re welcome!” I called out before I heard a door slamming down the hall.
Resting my hands behind my head, I sighed. I knew this was too good to be true.
Hannah had only called a truce long enough for me to fuck her brains out. I couldn’t even be mad about it.
Now, to find out if my moment of weakness was enough to wreck my career.
It was worth it.
 |
Walking into the practice arena the morning after sleeping with Hannah, I half expected alarms to sound. Even when they didn’t, I kept looking
around, waiting for someone to call me out. This dirty secret was eating me alive, and I was living in a constant state of paranoia.
If Coach ever found out how I’d defiled his daughter, I was toast.
Goodbye, career. It was fun while it lasted.
Practice was laid-back. Everyone was still riding high off the comeback win against the Aviators, so even though we worked hard, there were jokes and smiles all around. My teammates were focused on hockey, but the lead weight of guilt sitting like a rock in my stomach distracted me.
By some miracle, I made it to the weight room unscathed. Maybe I was making too much of this. How would anyone know? It was just my stupid conscience playing tricks on me.
Assistant Coach, Zach Ender, popped his head in. “Berg! Coach Moreau wants to see you in his office.”
“Ooh. Someone’s in trouble,” Benji teased from beside me. Standing, I felt lightheaded.
This was it. A lifetime of hockey thrown away over one night with Hannah. It had always been a possibility, and some part of my mind knew I wouldn’t get away with it.
“Shit. You don’t look good, Cal. I was only joking.” Benji stood, gripping my elbow. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” I brushed him off.
Leaving the weight room, I tried to convince myself that Coach wanted to talk to me about something else. Guilt was clouding my common sense. There were a million other reasons why Coach would want to see me.
Knocking on his open door, I took a deep breath, trying to act normal. “Cal, come in. Take a seat.” Coach gestured to the seat opposite his desk.
Dropping my large frame into the tiny chair, I shifted my weight, trying to get comfortable. I bet Coach intentionally kept a too-small chair in his office to make us squirm.
“You wanted to see me, Coach?” I asked.
Steepling his fingers on his desk, Coach looked me right in the eye. “I know what you did.”
My heart began beating against my chest so hard I thought it might crack a rib. “You do?”
Raising an eyebrow, he countered, “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Oh, fuck. Hannah must’ve been more pissed last night than I thought.
Went running straight to Daddy. I should have known better.
“Sir, I can explain—“
“I wanted to tell you how great I think it is.” I froze. “Really?”
“Of course! You’re an incredible young man. I’m extremely proud of you.”
“You are?” I didn’t know how to respond to this surprising turn of events.
I was in shock. That was the only explanation.
“Absolutely. Your contribution match of the toy drive at the children’s hospital is beyond generous. You’ve gone above and beyond, making an impact in the local community. This is something that won’t soon be forgotten. Especially by the families whose Christmas you are making brighter.”
“Oh.”
You idiot. No way was he going to just accept you sleeping with his daughter.
Eyeing me carefully, he asked, “Was there something else?”
“No, sir. Sorry. Practice took it out of me. I’m not thinking straight.” “Rest up. We’ve got another important game tomorrow night.”
“I’ll be ready,” I vowed.
“Good. See you tomorrow for pregame skate.”
Standing, I left Coach’s office on shaky legs. I needed to get a grip. I had been too close to spilling the beans and wrecking my career.
Last night was a one-off. Hannah had left angry. She wouldn’t be back. I needed to bury it deep and move on. It was better that way.
Sure, keep telling yourself that.
|
The lights were dimmed, and the spotlight was all on Hannah.
Usually, I kept my head down during the anthem—as a show of respect and to get my head in the game. Those were the final few moments before we went to war on the ice.
Tonight, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her as she belted out the song that most of the country knew by heart. Clenching my teeth, I struggled to tamp down the erection that threatened the moment I saw her walk out
wearing my jersey. It didn’t help that her mouth wrapped around the notes of the song the same way it had wrapped around my cock.
Hannah always wore a player jersey while singing the anthem during home games. It was on a rotation—or so I’d heard—but what were the odds that it just so happened to be my turn tonight? When only two nights ago, her pussy had strangled my dick as she screamed my name, climaxing violently in my arms.
I couldn’t stop wondering if she’d washed it. Or was the scent of s*x still lingering in the fibers of the fabric?
It didn’t seem likely that it was a coincidence.
After the way we left things, I didn’t think she would want to see me again. What if I was wrong?
Did it matter? We were doomed from the start. How could we have a future together?
If we took things further, we could never go public. That was no way to live, sneaking around so her dad—my coach—never found out.
Was the connection I felt strong enough to consider hiding in the shadows?
Maybe we could make it work long enough for me to finish playing.
Coach couldn’t do anything to me once I retired.
Hannah loved her family. I knew she would pick them over me if forced to choose.
Would Coach go that far? Wouldn’t he want his youngest daughter to be happy?
I was delusional. We had slept together once—okay, twice—and I was looking ahead to an ending when we’d barely begun.
The crowd’s deafening cheers brought me back to the present. The lights turned back on, and my feet moved automatically. I had a game to play— not just play, but win.
My focus should be on what was left of my career, but Hannah was still on my mind as the puck dropped at center ice and the game began.
How was I supposed to get Hannah out of my head when she was everywhere?
