Page 60 of Off-Ice Misconduct
I canvass the party, stopping when I’m hailed by various guys from North Point and the women of Delta Gamma. Is it just me, or is the flirtatious energy I’m picking up on so much more now that I’m … now that I’m what? Taken? Yeah, I’m taken by the best asshole on earth.
Huh. That’s not as awful as I thought it would be. It’s kind of awesome, actually. My shoulders pull back, pushing my chest out in the same kind of way as I do when I score a big goal. I decline every advance with the apology that I’m seeing someoneand make a mental note to goad Luke into marking my neck again if he wants to keep my adoring horde away. That’ll score me double brat points for being a showboat.
Damn, though. This is the first time I’ve been this fucking infatuated with someone without being intimate in any way—at least not the kind people talk about. We haven’t fucked, we haven’t kissed, haven’t done more than some mild groping and yet, I can’t get enough of our interactions. They still feel just as special and intimate. It’s nice for a change.
By the time I’ve gone through the house, including some of the bedrooms—maybe Ryan’d already found a hookup—I’m left to conclude that Ryan isn’t here. So, where the fuck is he? It’s getting late, though, and I told Wendy I’d return in a few. She’s probably fuming by now. I begin my search for her instead, my thoughts—for once—not on Luke, but the giant North Point captain. Maybe I hit him harder than I thought, and he had to head back to his hotel, tail between his legs.
“There you are, Ace. Where the hell have you been?” Wendy demands. Unlike Ryan, she was easy to find.
“Looking for Ryan. I think he left due to game-related injuries,” I explain, going with my theory.
“Yeah, that’s what Ben here said.” She puts her arm around some other stud that’s caught her eye. Looks like she’s moved on from Ryan. Thank fuck, and I guess points for me for guessing the reason for Ryan’s departure correctly?
Anyway, I’ve had enough party for one night. I’m with Shep on the “feeling like a bag of meat thing”, and fuck, I’ll be Luke’s goodest boy for going to bed early. Maybe I’ll even text him a picture of me in bed with my untouched dick. He’ll eat that shit up.
The hallway of bedrooms is just as quiet as it was earlier when I came up here, looking for that beautiful dipshit, Ryan. He’s a monster, but he’s kind of a pretty monster. With a muglike his, he’s perfect for a runway or as the star of the next slasher movie.
Opening the door, I hear voices in the darkness. I checked my and Bender’s room during my search, so whoever’s in here now came in after I looked. The couple on the bed—my fucking bed, actually—is too involved to notice me. I’m about to ream Shep and Hudson out for having their makeup sex on my bed—because they would do that to be dicks—but then one of them speaks.
“That’s it, pretty boy. Get that ass in the air and spread those legs for me,” a voice says. A voice I know well. And unfortunately, I put whose voice that is together at the same time my eyes adjust. I get a nice flash of said big round bubble butt in the air with another one right behind it.
Coach. That’s Coach’s ass behind the one sticking way up in the air, begging to be fucked.
And I guess I can’t say how I know the other ass belongs to Ryan Savage other than a raw feeling in my bones. But he moans loud and long as Coach enters him. God. I hope to fuck they’re using protection at least. It’s hard to see.
“Oh god, keep fucking me, Tate. Right there,” probably Ryan says. Kinda sounds like him, but I don’t know him as well.
Coach gathers his hair in a fist. “Say the magic words.”
“Fuck you, VanCourt.”
Smack!Ryan exhales a sharp cry.
“Try again, or I’ll take it away.”
“Please. Fuck,please.”
Having a mild heart attack, I shut the door carefully and rush down the stairs.
What do I do? What the fuck do I do?
No one can see that shit. What is Coach doing? I thought Luke and I would be his downfall, never guessed he’d be his own. But Coach’s behavior earlier makes a whole lot more sense.I don’t know what they have going on, but it doesn’t matter. VanCourts are territorial as fuck. Coach probably didn’t like me touching his “pretty boy” in any capacity.
Ugh, but the rival team? He couldn’t have seduced someone from his own team? Somehow, that seems less worse, but I guess at this point it’s all just … bad.
Who am I to judge, though? I’m doing the same thing with Coach’s brother. I’ve done worse with professors at this school. Okay, medicine taken. It puts things into perspective for a deviant like me. This is the same shock others are gonna have if Luke and I are ever found out.
Huddy and Shep have vacated the couch by the time I reach it, and Bender and Celeste have taken their place. I’m outta breath.
“If you’re looking for our resident sex maniacs, they’ve argued their way to bed,” Bender informs me. His head’s on Celeste’s lap, eyes hooded, barely awake. She’s running fingers through his coif of hockey hair, but there’s nothing sexual about it. Fuck, it’s a relief to see things going back to normal—some things. What’s happening in my bed right now isn’t normal at all.
“Thanks for looking after him, Celly. Can I switch you?” Maybe I’ll keep Bender here until I know they’re finished. Is it the right move? Probably not, but it’s the only one that makes sense until I know more.
Bend’s happy to fall asleep on me. Luke probably wouldn’t love this, but he’ll understand me taking care of a friend, right? There’s never been anything more than friendship between Bend and me, and, believe me, we’ve had lots of opportunities. We kissed once—once. We agreed it was like kissing a brother and never went there again.
Bender’s out cold when Ryan saunters down, walking a little funny. That makes me think of things I shouldn’t right now, and those things send a delicious shiver down my spine. Luke andCoach are about the same size, I’m gonna be Ryan when Luke finally fucks me.
He is gonna fuck me, right? Yeah, it’s nice that we started out with other things, but in case it’s not clear, I want him to fuck me so hard that I have trouble walking.
