Page 113 of Playing the Pucking Game
My body begins to cool, as does the cum that’s now covering me. But it doesn’t make me move. Instead, I stay exactly where I am, craving more of Parker.
Time seems to stand still as I wait for something, anything.
But the second she groans and begins moving around her room, I realize it was nowhere near long enough.
With my boxers now sticking to me, I force myself to move and retreat to my own room, pushing the door closed. I might not be scared of being locked in a room, but I do like the idea of leaving it open. I’m confident that it’s an invitation she’d never take me up on, but the offer is there if she felt the need.
The thought of her sneaking in, in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with me, letting me roll over and tuck her into my body, makes my chest tighten.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t I give to find out what that’s like.
I’ve never spent the whole night with a woman before.
There’s only ever been one that’s made me even consider it as an option.
I’m more than happy when all the others get up and leave when we’re done.
They all know the deal before we get down to business, and they’re happy to agree to my terms.
But there is always an exception to the rules.
Stripping out of my boxers, I dump them in the laundry basket before marching toward my shower and turning it on.
I step inside, ready to shut myself away from everything and relax.
But it doesn’t happen. The solace I usually find under the powerful jets of water is nowhere to be found.
Irritated, I clean up and get out.
With a towel wrapped around my waist, I stop in front of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror, but the man staring back at me doesn’t have any good advice.
With a sigh, I tip my head back and blow out a breath.
Just play the game, Storm.
Trust that if the win is meant to be yours, then it will happen.
With a clean pair of boxers on, I grab my cell from the side and fall into bed.
I’ve got a whole stream of notifications, but there’s only one that really catches my eye, and seeing it makes my heart drop into the pit of my stomach.
My father has always been my hero. I looked up to him all my life. Even with him gone, nothing has changed.
But there is another man who has watched every single move I’ve made in my career.
He was there at all my important games, looking proud the day I got drafted, and when he can, he still comes and supports me, despite his son being on a different team.
Clark Donnelly is an incredible man, father, coach, and back in the day, player.
I have the utmost respect for him, so knowing what I just did with his daughter sends a rush of shame through me.
When it comes to Parker, no man will ever be good enough in his eyes. And there is no doubt in my mind that I’d be at the bottom of his list of ideal suitors for his daughter.
Superman: How’s the injury? Gutted you didn’t get to play the last two games. You were missed in that last one. Painful loss.
Linc: Hey, yeah, it sucks. So did watching my boys lose that badly. All part of the fun, though, huh? Injury is good, got this new kickass trainer who’s putting us all in our place.
Superman: Glad to hear it. So proud of our girl.
