Page 58 of Off-Ice Misconduct
Because the memory of his kisses would have been devastating. It would have ruined me.
Luke can take me apart in any way he wants to, but not that one. I won’t survive it.
He releases my lip, but not me. His fingers slide into my hair, slow and deliberate, curling tight at the root. He doesn’t yank, not yet, but there’s no question I’m not going anywhere. He holds me there, in place. No, in my place. His hand tightens, and my heart stutters. Then his eyes flick down to my mouth—forbidden territory—dark and steady. Not having my lips seems to make him a bit feral, but he resists the call.
“But I’m a fair Daddy. Be a good boy, and I’ll be obligated to spoil my princess. Watching my well-behaved princess enjoy his reward might please me more than his suffering.”
I’m leaking, can he see? Leaking through my boxer briefs. It takes all my restraint not to rut against him. Instead, I inhale his musky man scent, resting my lips against his neck, deep in horny heaven-hell.
“Not gonna lie, being a brat is fun, but I love being your good boy, Daddy.”
Ryan Savage is as big a monster as I am. He’s a solid player, but damn, his ego. Didn’t think they made helmets large enough to fit an ego the size of his. He kinda looks like he eats nails for breakfast. And from the amount of size he’s put on in just one year, maybe that’s what they’re feeding them at North Point. He was a lot smaller last year when he was a reasonably sized right winger.
He’s an interesting case. I don’t know the full story—it wasn’t made public—but he was in the draft and he played in the NHL for a season. He was ripped out, gone for years, and then suddenly appeared at North Point. I’ve speculated, but that’s all I have. I know he was a bit of a playboy, and that he endedup in the news and the penalty box a lot. But none of that’s uncommon, and so long as you’re still scoring goals, your team usually finds a way to keep you.
“Hey, McKinnon,” he says in a voice that’s way too fucking sultry for the ice before he wins the damn faceoff, making off with my puck.
Asshole.
Fine, he got me with that once, but never again.
As far as skill goes, we’re evenly matched, but North Point’s generally bigger than us, besides me, and play a more physical game. There are a lot more penalties when our teams play because they’re dirty.
And, okay, okay. Maybe we’re dirty too, but they’re dirtier. I swear!
“What were you doing out there, McKinnon? Flirting?” Coach says when I come in for a change.
That’s all I need, for a rumor like that to get back to Luke. “No, Coach.”
“Take control of the puck next time. It’s not just scouts out there, McKinnon.”
Not like I wasn’t trying. Why’s he being such an asshole? He likes to win, but he’s not usually this much of a dick about it. And yeah, I get it—fundraise, fundraise, fundraise. Every game this season is gonna be about showing everyone that we’re the best hockey team out there, worthy of supporting. But there’s something … personal in his tone.
I go after Savage as soon as I’m back on the ice as retaliation for him getting me chewed out by Coach, slamming him into the boards.
“Take that, yah fucking pigeon,” I chirp, skating off to plough through center.
I’ve got blood in my mouth before the end of the first. Would Luke still wanna jump my bones if I were missing teeth? I mean,I can afford fake ones anyway, but it might be cool to sport the gap for a minute. I don’t lose a tooth, though. It’s just a busted lip.
Savage has some kind of burr up his ass, staring at me, chewing his mouth guard like it’s candy. It’s almost like he knows I have something to lose.
We head into the second, strong. I put every ounce of energy into ignoring him and showing off for Luke. He promised me he’d be somewhere in the stands, but he wouldn’t tell me where.
The puck drops, and it’s mine. The North Point Firehawks hack at my fucking ankles—where’s the goddamn ref for this shit?—but I prevail, sailing up the funnel, passing back to Shep before,wham!Into the boards. I push the guy, who shockingly isn’t Savage, and he fumbles, but catches his heavy body before it hits the ice.
But Savage is causing shit across the ice. He?—
No.
He didnotjust touch our goalie. I’m about to abandon the play to go over there and teach him a fucking lesson, but Bender beats me to it. It’s stick, gloves, helmets, fists. Bender and Savage circle each other in a clockwise direction, throwing punches till the refs break them up.
For some fucking reason, we get the penalty. Clearly, the ref didn’t catch the shit Savage was doing to Lars.
Shorthanded in our zone, we fight for possession. The puck just has to fall loose, and it will, we just?—
It lands with a loudcrackin the curve of Shep’s blade. I’m center left just past the blue line and their defense. A secondcrackannounces the puck’s arrival to my stick, and I’m gone.
See yah, bitches. This goal is mine.
