Page 119 of Forbidden Hockey
He’s hoping Travis ruins me.
Fuck, I hope so, too.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Dirk
Trav enlisted Mercy—my former Coach Mercy Meyer—to take Trent and Alex home. That was a good call, Mercy’s the ultimate brat tamer. Those two little troublemakers won’t be fucking around on his watch. Receipts? Jack Leslie’s his boyfriend, enough said. As everyone was leaving, I tried to get up to help Trav cleanup, and whoa, the look I got. It could melt iron. I sat my ass the fuck back down. He was making a point: You stay where I tell you to until I tell you to move.
It's been an exercise in humiliation that’s made my cock hand-bitingly hard—you know? The kind of hard where you have to bite into your hand to keep from whining? That hard. Because the staff watched me sit here doing nothing while they helped Trav clean up, and that’s so out of character for me, they know something’s going on.
Probably doesn’t help that my cheeks are flaming. I couldn’t look at anyone. And if they only knew what I was doing thewhole time, shamelessly fucking begging Trav with a string of texts to let me come tonight.
My skin’s hot too, heart hammering a fucking beat against my ribcage. It’s mostly excitement, but there’s an edge of fear. Not because I think Trav’ll do anything bad to me. No scratch that, he’s going to do very bad things to me, and I’m gonna die tonight, but I’ll die a happy man.
Fuck.
My phone buzzes.
Trav
Don’t you have a job to do?
Yeah. Yeeeaah.Damn, even the voice in my head is breathless. And I have been doing it—begging in every way I can dream up—but I got distracted. Trav finally took off that ridiculous pink and yellow Hawaiian shirt he was wearing, leaving him in a tank that clings to every ridge of muscle like a second skin. The ink on his arms shifts with every movement—sharp, lethal, gorgeous. He’s let the strip of hair running down the middle of his scalp grow longer, amplifying his beast-like appearance, and it looks like he got the light beard dusting his jaw trimmed before he came home.
Huh. That means he did it for me. Shit. There I was assuming the fucking worst. Why? Why do I do that?
Me
I know you don’t have to let me come tonight, and I respect that, but wouldn’t it be so much better if you did? I can scream so good for you. I’ll cry your name. I’ll tell you you’re the king you are. Or do you prefer Lord? Lord fucking Nolan.
Trav reads the text, and I witness the moment that text lands. “Okay, everybody fucking out. Out.Now.” His voice is a snarl and a growl at the same time.
My insides beam—I know how to please my alpha man.
He practically chases the staff out of the restaurant, and I sit back, closing my eyes, hoping that if I picture Trav sinking his dick in me for long enough, it’ll come true. When I open them, there’s a beast of a man standing over me, chest rising and falling as if every breath is an effort. His eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen them, looking at me like I’m the prey that got away, even though I’m right here.
“Did you think there was one moment—one—that you weren’t on my mind, pretty boy?”
I’m trying to say words, I promise I am, but all that comes out is a lot of sputtering.
“T-Trav,” I say, uselessly.
“Looks like I’ll be teaching you a lesson and fucking your brains out at the same time.” He’s close, not touching, but his massive energy invades me, deadly form ready to spring. “I’m going to lock up, and you’re gonna get ready for me, naked in my bed.”
He doesn’t leave room for argument. My body shakes with need. I need him. This man.
“Yes.”
Itear off my clothes like they’re choking me, and my need to surrender supersedes my need to get off. Hearing his purr of praise with growls of affection? I want that more than air.
Lying in the dark, the moonlight casting a glow over me from the window, I mold into the blankets I’ve tangled around my body. I stretch into them, knowing this is the last time I’ll be in this bed alone. Well, until next summer. Unless I can convince Trav to take me with him. Or not go.
The telltale creak of the door announces Trav’s arrival in the apartment, which means he wants me to know he’s coming. Fuck. My heart rate ratchets again, body trembling with anticipation. I’m an odd contrast of hot on the inside, but cold on the outside. There are a few noises outside the room, him taking his boots off, then pouring himself a glass of water. I left the bedroom door open, but when he’s suddenly justthere, I flinch. He leans against the doorframe; his sinewy body takes up all the space.
I move to sit up.
