Page 46 of Game Misconduct

“Look, I’m fine. Just sleeping.”

Her fire-engine-red lips dip into a frown. “Whatever. Report in to Coach and tell him you’re good.”

“You got it.” I mock-salute her, and my cock does the same, twitching.

Bex’s rich brown eyes trail hungrily over my body, fixing on my abs and then lower. They widen when she sees the rigid outline of my dick in my underwear, no doubt clocking the wet spot blooming on the fabric. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.

“I’m going back to bed.” Do not invite her to join me. I like my cock attached to my body, thanks.

When she doesn’t respond, I politely shut the door in her face, then crawl back beneath the covers. The weight of the blankets is simultaneously too light and stifling, and the pillow is lumpier than it was ten minutes ago.

It’s no use. I’m awake. And I really don’t want to be.

My morning erection hasn’t waned, not in the slightest. Being up close and personal with my dream girl, after abruptly ending dream world, makes me think maybe they can combine. That maybe I can actually have her.

The toiletry bag where I keep my lube is too far away, and this bed too comfortable, for me to fetch it. I shimmy out of my boxer briefs and then spit in my hand, using the saliva as lubricant as I give myself a strong tug. My mind drifts to the same memory it always does: an Ohio summer afternoon, a hotel room, and heaven personified in my bed.

Volatile. That’s what Elsy said. Yes, my girl is volatile as fuck, but I can’t deny it’s part of what draws me to her like a moth to a flame. Sue me, I like ’em a little crazy. And she’s just the right type of crazy for me.

But now that I reflect… yes, she has been a little up and down lately. Her face is pale beneath her makeup, and her eyes are tired. Her scowls whenever we cross paths haven’t changed. But there’s definitely something going on.

I said my piece. I voiced my concerns. If she wants help, I’m here. Until then… I don’t know what I’ll do, exactly, but I’ll keep making it clear I’m not going anywhere.

Whether she likes it or not.

I sink back into the memories. Her scent on my sheets, her taste on my lips. Oh, what I would give to taste her again, to drive my cock into her sweet cunt, to drown myself in her kisses. To not have her hate me.

Fuck, I’d give anything. I’d walk away from hockey if it meant a chance for us to be together.

When I come, it’s with her name on my lips—the same as it has been almost every day since we met.

When the sweat has cooled on my skin and I’ve caught my breath, I force myself out of bed and into the shower. My stomach rumbles. Sleeping for twelve hours straight, plus the travel beforehand, means I haven’t eaten in way too long.

Dressed in a team T-shirt and jeans, I pull up a list of local restaurants on my phone as I walk to the elevator. I bookmark one that looks promising, then flick through the second’s menu to compare. I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for, as long as it’s edible and plentiful.

A few of my teammates lounge on the sofas in the hotel lobby, and I’m about to head toward them when a splash of copper flashes in my peripheral vision.

Bex.

She’s seated at the hotel bar, enthralled by her tablet. A sweaty glass of dark soda sits on a cocktail napkin in front of her, and she idly stirs the straw as she reads.

I watch for a few moments, and then her eyes widen and turn glassy with unshed tears. She swallows—hard—before lifting a spare napkin to her eyes, dabbing at the corners.

Fuck. I hate the idea of Bex crying.

Maybe that’s why I do it. I slide onto the barstool beside her. The bartender makes eye contact, and I nod, but don’t interrupt the drink she’s pouring. A few moments later, she approaches with a menu.

“What can I get you?”

“A beer, whatever’s on tap.” Do I need alcohol on an empty stomach? No. Am I doing it anyway? If it means I get to spend more time with her, of course. “And cheese fries, please.”

Bex’s head snaps up, and she glares at me. “What are you doing?”

“Drinking?” I pretend like I have no clue what she’s talking about, but the fire in her eyes stokes the one deep in my belly, and even though I just came not that long ago, I would be game for another round. With her.

“They don’t have those here,” she snaps.

“Did you ask?”