Page 114 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“My boyfriend’s ass belongs to me and only me. It won’t hang around the kitchens of America to be gawked at by just anyone. No. I forbid it, and I want names of every deviant buying naked hockey calendars from a college.”
I groan. When Luke says shit like that, there’s no talking him out of it. “Fine, I’ll wear clothes.”
“Still no, McKinnon.”
“You’re being an over-possessive prick, Daddy,” I grouse.
He pretends to think about it. “You’re right. Maybe the professors should do some fundraising for the school, too. Hot professor calendars…”
The man knows how to make a point. I see red because I wouldn’t want his body hung up in someone’s home for others to leer at daily. Luke’s fucking mine. “Fine, no calendars. Does this mean shirtless car wash and hot dog day are out, too?”
“Definitely noshirtlesscar wash for you, clothed is fine, but … do I even wanna know what happens on hot dog day?”
“We wear nothing but Speedos and aprons, serving actual hot dogs while everyone wishes they had our other hot dogs,” I say with a wink. I know as soon as I say it, it’s out, but I want comedic points.
“Not for the public, but you can bring both items to my place and cook me some fucking hot dogs,” he grumps. It’s precious, but I’m not stupid enough to say so.
Those fundraisers don’t happen until the spring. I’m sure I can find some lusty first years wanting to make a good impression with the house to help out in my absence.
Being in a grown-up relationship requires a lot of adjustment, but I’m enjoying it, and I’m a goner anyway. I spend most of my time missing being with Luke, and when I’m with Luke, it’s so toe-curling-ly good, I wish I had less shit to do so I could be with him more often. It’s not just the sex. There’s a primitive brand of satisfaction I get from his alpha-malecountenance. It gives me a permanent buzz. Especially when he finds ways of being with me when he’s not with me. Like leaving love bites and spanking my ass until it glows.
It's Friday, we leave early for Portland—it’ll be a Portland then Tacoma weekend—so all I had time for was a quick fuck and goodbye before I had to be on the bus.
“Behave yourself, princess,” he says in that growly voice of his.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He pins me to the wall, plunging his tongue inside. I feel so, so owned. All his. I get to play hockey and be his. It’s all I aspire to.
This is the fucking life.
Seeing Bender and Shep sitting beside each other on the bus, not fighting about something, is weird. I don’t know what’s going on between them, and I don’t ask. It’s none of my fucking business, even though I’d like to make it my business. Luke’s talked me off a few ledges because of them—all three of them. Hudson’s not here because he doesn’t play hockey, but I’m not convinced he’s doing well. I’m grateful to snag a seat with Justin, who prefers to listen to music the whole way there. I use the time to text Luke.
Me
Where do we stand on the whole orgasm thing?
I know the answer’s no. As he says, “You can wait two nights until you’re back with me.” But I like being a fucking brat. Poking the werewolf man.
Wolf Daddy
What did I say about behaving yourself?
Me
I’ve been a treasure, Daddy.
Wolf Daddy
Don’t touch your dick, McKinnon, or else.
I snicker under my breath. I look up to see if anyone’s heard me and catch sight of Bender slipping his hand into Shep’s and resting his head on Shep’s big shoulder. Hmm, looks like they don’t hate each other so much anymore. Damn. They’re kinda sweetheart-worthy, though. I hope to fuck this doesn’t explode in their faces. I scan the bus some more. Coach is real intohisphone. Wonder who he’s talking to?
I’ve got two more messages from Luke.
Wolf Daddy
I expect a ‘yes, Daddy’, princess.
