Page 91 of Center Ice

He legit growls in response, the low sound reverberating across the video in a way that has me wishing he was here physically. I’m always wanting him with me lately.

When I press the button at the base, the vibrator lengthens even farther, then contracts, over and over. It feels enough like Drew that I relax into the sensation, letting it pull me toward the edge of my orgasm.

“What are you thinking about?” Drew asks, and I open my eyes to look at him. He’s a model of physical perfection as he lies there jerking himself off, watching me with this sex toy filling me up.

“How amazing this feels, but how I wish it was you instead.”

“Honey, if I was there, you’d already be on orgasm number two. Maybe three.”

The laugh shakes my abdomen, and with the vibrator thrusting inside me at the same time, my whole body convulses.

“That’s a good girl,” Drew says. “Now touch yourself.”

“Drew, the feeling is already so intense.”

“Audrey, I need to see you run your fingers over that gorgeous swollen clit while you fuck that perfect pussy of yours, because I need you to come.Right. Fucking. Now.” He grunts those last words out through gritted teeth, and that’s when I see how close he is. How every muscle in his abdomen is contracted, how he’s biting his bottom lip with a look that borders on pain as he holds himself off until I come.

So I reach down and slide my finger over the ball of nerves, and my muscles clench deep inside, a fast contracting and releasing that has my knees curling up—and as I do, the vibrator slides along the top edge of my inner wall, hitting the perfect place.

“Fuck yes,” Drew grunts out, and it’s followed by a guttural sound. But I barely hear him orgasming through the pleasurethat’s erupting inside me as I come harder than I’ve ever been able to make myself come, the waves of sensation rolling through me for what feels like forever as I ride out my pleasure.

When I finally pull the vibrator out of me and hit the button to turn it off, I open my eyes to find Drew watching me, a shit-eating grin on his face. “That was so fucking hot. But my God, are you loud.”

“Shh,” I tell him. “Or I’ll replace you with this thing.”

“Fucking say that again, and I’ll tie you to the bed and make you come so many times you beg me to stop.” There’s a dangerous and determined glint in his eyes.

“That sounds like a challenge.” I raise my eyebrow as I repeat, “Shhh…or I’ll replace you with this thing.”

“Challenge accepted,” Drew says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t make plans the night I come back.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

DREW

“That’s bullshit!” I spit the word at the referee’s face.

I was on a breakaway, advancing quickly toward Vegas’s goal, when my former teammate and one of Leland Alistair’s closest friends, Pierre Eckhart, who also got traded at the end of the season, tripped me from behind.

“Watch yourself,” the ref says, and I pause to take a deep breath, knowing how close I am to stepping over the line. I’m not the captain, and it’s not my place to argue this call.

Walsh skates up behind me, hooks his arm around my shoulders, and grits out, “Keep your fucking mouth shut and let McCabe do the talking.”

He’s right, and I know I can’t let my temper get the best of me. I take another deep breath and remind myself how lucky I am not to be playing with assholes like Eckhart and Alistair anymore.

On my other side, McCabe skates up and asks the ref about the penalty. They’re giving me a penalty shot, but it means Eckhart won’t have to serve his penalty. I think his trip was dirty enough to have been a game misconduct, and they should’ve given him some time in the sin bin, but I’ll just have to make the most of this.

As I stand at center ice, I analyze their goalie. Pierce is a big guy. He’ll catch anything down low, so I know everyone will expect me to take it top shelf. But as I take the puck toward the goal, a different plan formulates in my mind. I skate toward him until I’m just about at the crease, then I fake shooting to the right, and Pierce butterflies to block the shot. But instead, I spin back around and slip the puck into the opening on the left, directly behind his right skate. The buzzer sounds and I skate back to the bench amid the cheers of my teammates, but before I get there, I turn toward the Las Vegas bench and my eyes meet Eckhart’s.

As he glares at me, I nod my chin at him and call out, “Thanks!”

From the look he sends my way in return, I know this isn’t over.

It’s in the middle of the third period when Eckhart takes his next shot at me, bringing the toe of his stick up to spear me directly below my ribs, where I don’t have any pads to protect me. I hit the ice on my knees, the intense pain radiating through my diaphragm and up into my chest. But as the ref closest to me goes to grab Eckhart, all hell breaks loose on the ice. So many punches are being thrown that the refs back away, and I watch as Eckhart drops his gloves and skates toward me.

I hop up onto my skates just as he gets to me, and his fist would connect with my face, except I duck and jab him in the gut with my gloved fist as he flies by me. As I turn, I see Zach behind me and he’s grabbing Eckhart’s extended arm by his fist, and pulling him forward, using his own weight against him so he lands on the ice on his stomach. Eckhart goes sliding across the rink toward the center line, and the refs are able to break up the fight.

Audrey:

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