Page 45 of Bagging the Blueliner
After fucking Hannah against the window, I took her upstairs and cleaned her up in the shower before taking her to bed and fucking her all over again. Taking her while she wore my name on her back was hot as hell, but sinking into her face to face with every inch of her skin on full display was heaven.
Now, she was tucked securely into my side, both of us covered in sweat, our chests rising and falling rapidly after round two.
I owed my drunk self a thank you for leaving that voicemail.
Stirring, Hannah pulled out of my grasp, scooching toward the side of my massive bed.
Lazily, I sat up, circling my arms around her waist. “Stay with me.”
She peeled my hands away, slapping at them when I tried to grab her again. “Stop.”
Watching her stand beside the bed, I frowned, asking, “Where are you going?” The post-sex high was quickly dissipating.
Naked, Hannah threw her hands on her hips. “To the bathroom. Do I need a permission slip?”
“Come back to bed.” Suggestively, I added, “I’ll clean you up.”
Her blue eyes narrowed on me, and I mentally braced for impact. “UTIs are a real bitch. I’m sure the bunnies you’ve been with like to pretend that’s not a reality. Or maybe, they wear it as a badge of honor—a little memento of the time they fuckedtheCal Berg. I hate to break it to you, but there isn’t an orgasm great enough to risk the burning sensation when I pee for the next three days.”
Is she fucking for real right now?
My hackles rising at her mention of other women, I struck back. “There she is.”
“Who?”
“The snarky bitch. You hid her for a few hours, but she was bound to make a reappearance.”
Grabbing the jersey from the ground, she held it up to cover her body. “You know what? Let’s just call this what it was. A good old-fashioned hate fuck. I can cross it off my list and move on with my life. You can go back to wrecking vaginas all over the country. Expect the bill for when I have to have mine reconstructed after you stretched it beyond recognition.”
Watching her get fired up eased any annoyance bubbling to the surface. Leaning into the argument, I smirked. “What’s the matter, Hannah? Worried you’ll never find someone to fill you the way I can?”
Not backing down, Hannah declared, “All you are is an asshole with a big dick. You want an award for that?”
“I mean . . . if you’re handing them out, I’ll take one.”
“Fuck you.” She stormed out of the bedroom.
“You already did! You’re welcome!” I called out before I heard a door slamming down the hall.
Resting my hands behind my head, I sighed. I knew this was too good to be true.
Hannah had only called a truce long enough for me to fuck her brains out.
I couldn’t even be mad about it.
Now, to find out if my moment of weakness was enough to wreck my career.
It was worth it.
Walking into the practice arena the morning after sleeping with Hannah, I half expected alarms to sound. Even when they didn’t, I kept looking around, waiting for someone to call me out. This dirty secret was eating me alive, and I was living in a constant state of paranoia.
If Coach ever found out how I’d defiled his daughter, I was toast.
Goodbye, career. It was fun while it lasted.
Practice was laid-back. Everyone was still riding high off the comeback win against the Aviators, so even though we worked hard, there were jokes and smiles all around. My teammates were focused on hockey, but the lead weight of guilt sitting like a rock in my stomach distracted me.
By some miracle, I made it to the weight room unscathed. Maybe I was making too much of this. How would anyone know? It was just my stupid conscience playing tricks on me.
