Page 113 of The Penalty

He grumbles, but does as I asked.

I lay the opposite way, leaning up on my elbow. “Now I can suck your dick while you suck mine.”

Teddy’s eyes light up, and he grabs me, dragging me closer by the thighs to take me straight into the back of his mouth. I’m slower, swirling my tongue around the ridge of his head. Licking his balls. Teasing until he’s moaning around my cock.

He comes off me, lips swollen. “Please.”

“Please what, my bear?” I whisper my words over his dick.

“I need to be in your mouth.”

I suck on his tip, but just his tip.

He thrusts forward, but I expect it and move with him, not letting him have what he wants. “Rhys!”

“Yes?” I ask playfully.

“I need to come! Be nice.” He’s panting because I keep stroking him with my hand as he speaks. “Please, pretty please.”

I shove his hip, rolling on top of him, finally allowing him fully into my mouth while I fuck myself between his lips. He gasps around my cock as I take his throat. His entire body tightens with pleasure, and he loses it, filling my mouth and throat with his cum. He greedily tightens his lips until I give him mine, sucking me fucking dry.

We flip around and lay there long after we both come down, and I feel better than I have all day. But I don’t know how to tell him that he calms me in ways I didn’t know possible.

THIRTY

TEDDY

We play the Gods again tomorrow.

All week we’ve been watching tapes of their other games. You can learn a lot about a player by how he handles pressure on the ice, how well he shares the puck, and how quick he is to start a fight. I’m absorbing everyone, even their goalie, Wolfe. He’s amazing and I’ve picked up a few little things here and there from studying him and other goalies.

But can I block against Rhys?

That’s the ten-dollar question.

I don’t want the Gods to win, but I don’t want Rhys to lose either. My sense of loyalty is fucked. Is this what being on one of those stretch machines feels like? From the olden days when they rip people apart. It’s awful.

I hate it.

I kind of hate myself.

Shouldn’t you know where your loyalty lies? These guys depend on me to do a good job, to domyjob. I can’t let them down. But what if at the last second, Rhys takes a shot on goal and I hesitate because I want to see him smile at me?

There’s no one I can talk to. Not really. Tobi still doesn’t know about me and Rhys, so I can’t talk to him. Lancelot knowsbut I’m so nervous he’s gonna tell someone, so I don’t want to talk to him more. Rhys is dealing with his brothers and has the game coming too. Is he okay with it? Is he nervous? I don’t know. I think I’m scared to ask him.

My knee is bouncing a gazillion miles an hour by the time we’re done. I have to talk to Coach. I have to tell him I can’t play this next game. Tell him I’m sick or something, so Lancelot plays.

My body is shaking like I’ve been in the ice bath too long when I knock on Coach’s door.

“Come in,” his gruff voice comes through the door.

“Hey Coach,” I start and don’t know how to say the next part.

“Ellis, what’s up?” He looks up from whatever papers he’s got on his desk. The man is about the same age as my dad, but not my dad. He didn’t play NHL, but he did play DI and his team went to the Frozen Four every year, and won three of four years. “You okay?”

“I’m a traitor,” I whine and drop into the chair on this side of his desk, slapping my face into my hands. “I’m fucking the enemy and no one can trust me not to throw the game.”

He sighs heavily, pretty sure he says “fucking goalies”, and I hear his chair scoot back. “Start from the beginning, Ellis.”

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