Mackenzie
I was terrified, buzzing and excited all at the same time. My heart was doing a crazy little dance in my chest as I stood on the sidelines of the rink and watched the Fury enter the rink. Around me, the light show bounced off the ice and the ceiling like fireworks. Excitement charged the air and the arena was a sea of red and black Galveston Fury jerseys.
There was so much hype around the first game of the best of seven. The NYC Ice Cats had lost the previous year’s Stanley Cup to the LA Lynx and they were hungry for the win. While the Fury wanted to prove that it was no fluke—they had earned their place in the top two.
It was the underdog stepping up to the top dog. Of course, there was no way the Galveston Fury would beat the NYC Ice Cats. No way. But everyone loved the idea that the team who had marinated for years at the bottom of the leader board was set to take on the championship favorites.
It was your classic David and Goliath story. And everyone was going crazy for it.
As Jake skated onto the ice, the fans went crazy. They banged against the boards and screamed his name. Signs popped up in the crowd, welcoming Jake back to the playoffs—some even offering some kind of sexual favor or declaring their love for the returning hero. Jake looked focused as he took it in, his expression a perfect poker face, but I knew his heart would be thumping wildly and his nerves would be firing. He hid it well, but acknowledged his fans with a nod and a blink-and-you’d-miss-it salute before joining his teammates.
As the hype of the dazzling pre-game light show ended and the teams got ready to faceoff, Jake glided over to face the captain of the Ice Cats. Anticipation flared in my stomach.
You’ve got this, babe . . . you’ve got this.
The game was fast paced and Jake did not disappoint the crowd with his on-point performance, scoring two goals with two assists. It was a faultless game right up until the third period when one of the opposing team’s D-men came at him and they both went down. I saw the crash, saw him smash his shoulder to the ice as they fell in a tangled heap.
The penalty put the Fury in a prime position, and ten minutes later they won the game three to one.
The arena erupted with excitement. On the rink, gloves scattered the ice as the Fury celebrated their win.
“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” said a familiar voice next to me. I turned to see Bob Murdoch standing next to me. I had been so absorbed in the game I hadn’t even noticed him.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” I replied.
After the game, the team had a few media commitments. It was almost an hour before I saw him but when I did I ran to him and he lifted me up in his arms and spun me around.
“I was going to ask you if you were okay,” I laughed as he placed me back down.
Jake’s smile was big and deliciously perfect. “Man, that felt good.”
“How’s your shoulder? It looked like a you took a pretty big hit to the ice.”
He shrugged it off. “It’s fine.” His eyes twinkled down at me and there was a familiar heat there. “Come on, let’s go back to my place and celebrate.”
Back at his apartment, I tended to Jake’s cranky shoulder. He sat on a stool in front of me, his skin warm from the shower, his hair still damp, and I kneaded and worked his muscles, my hands sliding over his golden skin and pressing deep into the crevices of his deltoids. He groaned at the relief.
I had a jar of massage cream in my bag and went to get it. But Jake grabbed my wrist. When I looked at him, I saw the heat in his eyes. I thought the game would exhaust him but I was wrong. It had turned him on. Despite his tangle with the overzealous D-man. Despite his sore shoulder. He tugged me back to him, securing his arms around me and pulling me down to him. His kiss was rough. Hot. Needy. He licked into me, the palms of his hands pressing into my jaw as he held my mouth to his.
There were no words. Just need. And when I pulled back, Jake growled and pulled me back to him, ripping open my shirt. I gasped and he grinned wickedly as his eyes glittered over my breasts.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he breathed.
“No.” I raised an eyebrow.
“At the game . . . you weren’t wearing it?” He asked, seemingly mesmerized by my breasts.
I gave a little shake of my head. “No.”
With a coarse rush of breath he moaned, “That’s so fucking sexy.” And he pulled me onto his lap and kissed me fiercely, his big hands holding my face to his. “You turn me on so much,” he murmured against my throat.
Energy spun around us in the room and instantly my body wanted him. I reached for him and he lifted me up, hooking his big arms behind my knees to carry me over to the bed. He lay me down and hovered above me, kissing me as he expertly peeled every item of clothing from my body. When he had me naked, his eyes took in every inch of me. His towel was gone, and I watched with needy desire as his cock dipped and lifted at the sight of my nakedness. He forced open my legs, exposing me completely, and he growled like a man possessed with need as he placed his bulk between my parted thighs, and his tongue licked over the very beginning of me. I flinched and moaned, my desire hitting a new level of desperation. His big hands gripped the back of my thighs, his fingers pushing deep into my muscles as his tongue licked and fucked me.
“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he groaned, trailing his tongue along my sex to my thigh. He pressed his face against my skin and I shivered, needing him, wanting him, wanting his cock inside me. His tongue traced an invisible path from my thighs to my belly, his gentle lips brushing across my skin, lighting fires along the length of me as he made his way up to my breasts. When his mouth closed over one nipple and then the next, I arched my back and moaned. And then his fingers took up the plight to tease me; sliding into me with a slow torturous rhythm, and it was all I could take to not beg him.
And then his cock was there. His big, gloriously hard cock. Holding it tightly at the base he rubbed the smooth head against the very sensitive part of me, pushing through the slickness, parting me, rubbing me, torturing me.
“Fuck me . . .” I finally begged, my body creaming with an urgent need to be filled with what was teasing me.
With one swift movement he rammed into me, thrusting a moan from my lips and taking the air from my lungs in surprise. He gripped my arms, and pressed strong fingers into my skin as he ploughed into me once more. His body was a mountain. A wall of cut muscle. And his bulk provided the perfect force behind each thrust.
“You make me so hard, baby,” he breathed, his hips lunging toward mine, his cock pushing me toward the edge. “I want to feel you come. I want to feel your tight pussy when you come all over me.”
It was all I needed. He had taken me to the edge and now his words pushed me over it. My climax hit me like a tidal wave, whipping me off my axis and shooting me into outer space.
“That’s it, baby.” He pressed in hard, grinding against me, his brows pulled together as pleasure overwhelmed him. “You’re going to make me come.”
My orgasm rolled through me, on and on, and my muscles convulsed violently as he milked me with his words and his moans. He tucked his arms at my side, his body a slick and warm plane as he continued to fuck me with perfect rhythm. I wound my trembling legs around him, welcoming him deeper into me.
“Oh, Z . . .” He dragged in a deep breath and then thrust my arms above my head, holding them down. “I love fucking you,” he gazed down at me with hooded eyes, then squeezed them shut and his face shimmered with pleasure. “. . . what you do to me . . . I can’t get enough.”
I thought I was spent. Thought I was done. But a slow stream of hot sweetness flowed through me, gathering speed and heat and potency as it coiled around my clit and in one bright, devastating moment erupted into an almighty release of ecstasy.
I pressed my head backwards into the pillow and let out a long and rich moan as my second orgasm wrecked me.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, grinding harder to make my orgasm draw out.
When it got to be too much, he pulled out and pressed the head of his cock into the soft folds, spilling come onto the wet lips of my sex. He shuddered and jerked, moaning as he milked himself onto me, every shudder bringing more.
With a groan he collapsed beside me and wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me to his thundering chest and pressing his warm lips to my temple.
He took a moment to catch his breath. For his heart to settle.
“You give me strength,” he whispered, his breath like a warm feather against my cheek.
I was so comfortable and hazy from my orgasms that I didn’t want to move. “What do you mean?” I murmured against his hard chest.
“What you do to me. I’ve never felt like this before.” His hand came up to tangle in my hair and gently massage my skull. Goosebumps rippled along my arms. “You make me feel strong.” He pressed another kiss to my hair and I felt him relax into the pillow. His head tilted back as he stared up at the ceiling. “You need to know . . .”
“What?”
“You are my everything now.”
* * *