Page 14 of Off-Ice Misconduct
But would he be sexually harassing me if I want it more than I want to scarf everything in the cafeteria as soon as he’s done with me? The only thing currently competing with my burning arousal is belly-aching hunger.
“Tell me what happened to your eye—the truth—and we’ll keep this between us.”
Really? I want to argue that he can’t feel too sexually harassed if that’s the case, but that’s so not the move here. “Love hath no fury like a woman’s scorn,” I recite, thinking it might impress him.
Wrong.
“What are you doing to women, McKinnon?”
The VanCourt brothers are fierce protectors of the female species. Noted. Glad to fucking see it. It might get me buried on the ocean floor if I don’t explain myself quickly, but Mom would approve.
“She says I led her on.”
“Did you?” He crosses his arms over his chest. How did he get biceps like that? Is he the new Captain America test subject? They’re bigger than mine, and mine are more than average size.
“I … I don’t know. She says I did, but it’s complicated. I was trying to be a fucking gentleman, and it backfired. I want to besensitive to her feelings, but it sucks that my good intentions don’t factor in at all.”
He arches a brow, but I seem to have tugged on the strings of his curiosity. “You wanna elaborate?”
I tell him about her barely-there clothes and the jacket. I tell him about the wink and when she blushed … and then how I kissed Freshman Andy.
He winces. “Congratulations, McKinnon. You’re just like every other ‘dude’ your age. You don’t have the slightest clue about women.”
I rub the back of my neck sheepishly, recalling the part of the night when I called her a dude. I’ll leave that out.
Unless, would he spank me for it?Fuck, stop it, Ace.
“But I’d say the only thing you’re really guilty of is ignorance. You’ve learned your lesson, yeah?”
You’ve learned your lesson.The way he says that should be illegal.
“I have, sir.”
“Where is your jacket?”
He wants to know a lot about me today. “Dry cleaners. She dumped her drink on it.”
“Drink? Were you drinking?”
“It was a party, sir. I’m of age,” I add in case that’s what his problem is.
“You’re an athlete, McKinnon. Hasn’t my brother lectured you all on how much that stuff poisons your brain?”
“What does that have to do with my athletic performance, sir?”
“Everything,” he stresses with undercurrents of annoyance. “Brain health and function are directly linked to performance, McKinnon. I know Tate’s mentioned that a time or two.”
Something new’s taking place inside. A need beyond arousal, though that’s still there too. But this one’s familiar. The need toplease. I already know I’m a die-hard pleaser. I strived to please Mom, I still strive to please Dad, and I’m always looking for Coach’s approval. Hell, we could probably add my friends to the mix, the house, and even someone like Celeste who wants my nuts in a jar.
I’m not surprised that Professor VanCourt’s been added to that lengthy list as well. But the difference is, my cock. He’s the only one my cock has any reaction to. It strains behind my cotton boxers, begging me to beg him to fucking touch it.
But that doesn’t make any fucking sense either. I want his approval, maybe more than I’ve wanted anyone else’s. Shouldn’t his sheer disappointment make my erection curl up and die?
You’re confusing, bud.
My breath quickens, my heart beating so loud that the professor’s got to be able to hear it. I know what I want. I want him to put me in my place again.
Yeah, Coach VanCourt’s always droning on about the role of the brain in performance, but I’m not as good at following his directions off the ice as I am on the ice. Off the ice, other factors come into play, like fitting in with my friends and all the shit I do to please them. Each person—or group of people—lives in a section of my mind. That’s the only way I can keep up with pleasing everybody. The rules of the house don’t work so well with the rules on the ice and vice versa.
