Chapter 17

Max: (Let’s fuck like rabbits)

Kendra:

Max: (I’ll make you come)

Kendra: (I’ll suck your cock and make you come, too)

Max:

Max:

Kendra: ?????

Max: (My cock)

Kendra:

Max: (I’ll fuck your pussy)

Kendra: (Yes please, let’s have sex)

Max: (I’ll lick your pussy and make you come)

Kendra: (Happy orgasm)

Max: (You’re welcome)

Max: (Then we can 69)

Kendra: (Major orgasm)

Max:

Kendra:

Things go back to “normal” between Kendra and me. It’s our “normal” since we live so far apart, but we resume our daily texts and Skyping, sharing how our days went, talking about all kinds of things—politics and favorite TV shows, a mutual love of The Mighty Ducks as kids and Austin Powers as adults.

Wednesday at the gym, Greg has me working on a bunch of box jumps. This is supposed to improve strength and explosiveness. Holy shit, it’s hard. Greg has wooden boxes of different heights arranged. He starts me off in front of a two-foot-high box doing concentric jumps. From standing I squat, arms extended, then leap onto the box. It’s hard because I have no extra momentum from anywhere on my body—the power all comes from my legs.

“Knees straight up and down!” Greg calls. “Now land softly.”

I burst upward and land on the box again.

“Good, good.”

He changes to a higher box. Christ. I wipe sweat from my forehead as I jump higher.

I next work on stability by jumping onto a lower box, about twelve inches high, on one leg, then back down. I wobble on the first couple, but gain more balance as I continue. I only do five reps and then change legs.

As always, Greg is right there watching me, making sure my form is perfect. “Hips back, shoulders forward, chest out! Really use those hamstrings and gluts to maximize velocity.”

Then he’s got me doing single leg squats on low boxes. Balancing on one leg, I have to squat, extending the other leg out straight. This is fucking murder. And then…this is the killer…I have to jump sideways onto another box. All on one leg.

Yeah, I lose my balance and fall off the box on my first attempt.

“This is really hard,” Greg assures me. “It takes a lot of stability and range of motion, plus the strength in your gluts, quads, and hamstrings. Try it again. Keep focusing on the same things as before—hips back, chest out, shoulders back.”

I try it again and this time I nail it, although I’m wobbling like I’ve just downed an entire bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.

“Great work! Okay, do two sets of four reps.”

I keep working, focusing, and on my fourth rep as I jump, fire shoots up the back of my thigh in a searing pain that takes my breath away. I miss the box and land hard on the mat, going to my ass. “Motherfucker!”

Greg is there right away. “What’s wrong?”

I grit my teeth at the pain still streaking up my thigh, rolling around on the mat. “Hamstring.” I curl my hands around the back of my thigh and roll onto my side. I can’t even breathe.

“Lay down.” He pushes me to my back on the mat. I stare up at the high ceiling, breathing through the pain, my jaw clenched. “We need to check you out. Just relax for a minute.”

I give a short nod.

“Did you feel a pop?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

He nods.

Farhad, the physical therapist who’s been working with me the past few weeks, rushes over.

“Pulled his hamstring,” Greg says. “Hopefully not a tear.”

“Let’s see if you can walk, big guy,” Farhad says, and the two of them pull me to my feet.

My teeth grind together again at the pain, but I manage to limp into the treatment room. I climb onto the table and Farhad starts checking me out, first with me prone as he has me bend my knee with pressure on my ankle, then pushing against pressure on my heel and thigh. He puts me through a whole bunch of moves, making notes as he does so.

“Okay,” he finally says. “I don’t think you’ve torn anything but we’ll get an MRI done to make sure.”

“Aw, fuck. I hate MRIs. Really?”

He taps his chin. “We could wait a few days and see how things are. If it’s a Grade I or II strain you should be improving. But you’re taking a few days off. Icing it for twenty minutes at a time. We’ll strap it up to keep swelling down. Have you got Aleve?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re doing okay in a couple days we’ll get back to some easy range-of-motion exercises and see how it goes.”

I stare at him in horror, my chest constricting. “I can’t take a few days off!”

“Oh, yes, you can.”

I heave a heavy sigh and look at the ceiling. “Can’t I keep working my upper body at least?”

“If you can get yourself in here. But it’s your right leg. You might have a hard time driving.”

“Fuck, no.” I close my eyes and slump on the table. “I can’t believe this.”

“It’s gonna be fine.” He slaps my shoulder. “I really don’t think it’s a tear. A few weeks you should be fine.”

“A few weeks?” I stare at him in horror. “A few weeks? Training camp starts in three weeks!” My insides go hollow and cold.

“This won’t set you back that much. You’re already in great shape.”

“Then why the hell did this happen?”

Farhad shrugs.

I feel like crying. Or punching someone. My eyes narrow at Farhad. “I have weights at home.”

“You can do whatever you’re comfortable with. Just don’t do things that cause your leg pain.”

Greg shows up and Farhad updates him. He agrees that I can do some upper body weights at home if I’m careful, but they don’t want to see me back here until Tuesday, because it’s a long weekend.

I leave on fucking crutches.

They rope Ben and Jacob into driving me home, since they live together and came in the same car. Jacob drives my vehicle and Ben follows along to pick him up. They come with me all the way up to my condo I guess to make sure I’m okay as I hobble along. But then they stand there awkwardly and Ben asks, “Anything you, uh, need?”

I get it. Two young dudes…not exactly nurturing. It’s okay. I don’t need fucking nurturing. “I’m good.” Then I regret my curt tone. “Thanks for driving me.”

“Okay. Hopefully we’ll see you next week and you’ll be all back to normal.”

“I hope so, too.” Fuck, do I.

My condo’s quiet after they leave. I lower myself onto the couch and prop my crutches there. I don’t really need them, especially here. I’ll just sit here and wait for the painkiller to take effect.

I actually doze off for a while and wake up blinking. The lowering sun has flooded the room with yellow light. My stomach growls with hunger, so I try to get up. My hamstring protests with a sharp bite of pain.

I sigh. I have to keep moving. I know they said to rest, but I can’t lie around for days. I can’t let this interfere with my goal. I leave the crutches and hop on one leg into the kitchen to explore my fridge and cupboards.

There’ve been a lot of times I’ve been tempted to abandon the healthy eating plan since I started this regimen, but today I’m seriously thinking about ordering something in. I don’t feel like cooking, hopping around on one leg that’s getting tired, the other one aching. It’s making me irritable. The truth? I feel sorry for myself. I want to comfort myself with a huge pepperoni and sausage pizza and a six-pack of beer.

Instead, I pull out a container of leftover stir-fry. It was good last night, it’ll be good tonight…chicken with lots of veggies and a spicy sauce over brown rice.

I want white rice. Huge mounds of white rice.

One corner of my mouth lifts at my childish thought. I can do this.

My phone pings in my pocket as I’m waiting for my food to heat. Kendra.

How’s your day going?

Shitty.

Oh, no. What’s wrong?

I pulled a muscle. I’m on fucking crutches. Fuck.

Then my phone rings. Once again she’s decided talking is better.

“What happened?” she asks immediately. “Are you okay?”

“No.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m fucked.”

“Oh, my God! What did you hurt?”

“My hamstring.” I tell her how it happened and what Farhad said.

“Okay, a strain and a few weeks doesn’t mean you’re fucked.”

I can’t help but smile despite my pain and annoyance. “Maybe I was exaggerating. A little. I’m just so pissed that this happened. I don’t need any setbacks. Training camp starts in—”

“Three weeks.”

I blink. “Yeah. Well, three weeks and two days.”

“There you go. Lots of time.”

The microwave beeps and I open it to take out my food, shuffling on one leg. “That’s not lots of time,” I growl.

“Oh, man. You’re grouchy.”

“Yeah. I am. Hey, I have to set my phone down and hop over to the table to eat. Hang on.”

I carry my bowl of rice and stir-fry along with a fork and then go back for my phone. I’m perspiring like a hooker in church by the time I’m sitting down to eat. “Okay. I’m back.”

“Oh, Max. I’m sorry this happened.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

I’m on my bed the next afternoon, pillows propped behind my back, ice packs strapped to my leg, and arms folded across my chest as I stare at the TV in my bedroom. I’ve been watching reruns of NCIS all goddamn day. I’m about to lose my mind.

My phone buzzes, announcing the front desk calling up. I frown and answer it. “Kendra Armstrong, Mr. Hall.”

I do an ab crunch and bolt up straight. “Kendra? She’s here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send her up.”

I scramble off the bed, resulting in cramping pain up my thigh. Fuck! I sit on the edge for a moment, breathing deep. Gotta be careful. I grab the crutches, which I hate, but reluctantly have to admit make mobility easier, push myself to stand and then hop across the room and out to my door.

I unlock it and throw it open and Kendra arrives three seconds later. She walks in, gives me an up and down look with my crutches and ratty old clothes, then moves right into my space, grabs my face in both hands, and kisses me.

Whoa.

Her lips are warm and soft, she smells fucking fantastic, and every tense, angry muscle in my body loosens. Except, you know, my love muscle. That one gets harder.

“You big baby,” she whispers, her mouth barely touching mine.

“What?” I jerk back and glare at her in mock outrage. “I’m not a baby.”

“You pulled a muscle and you’d think the world ended.”

“I’m a hockey player. I’ll have you know we’re the toughest athletes in the world. Haven’t you seen all those memes?”

Her lips curve in amusement, those gorgeous green eyes glinting. “What memes?”

“You know…basketball players being carried off the court because they broke a nail, while hockey players keep going with broken bones.”

She laughs.

“It’s true!”

“So your problem is, you’re not playing a game. Then you’d be putting on a show of how tough you are.”

“Phhht.”

“You’re just feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Okay, yes. I admit it. I’m feeling damn sorry for myself. And pissed. And frustrated. And…now that you’re here…horny.”

As I say that, my next-door neighbor Michael passes in front of my still-open door. Clearly he heard that. He gives Kendra an assessing look and flashes me a thumbs-up. I grin.

She lifts an eyebrow, not having seen him. “Good to know some parts of you are still okay.”

I shut the door. That’s enough entertainment for the neighbors.

“Well, I’m not a hundred percent sure that everything’s in working order. We might have to test it out.”

“Really?” She leads the way into the living room, me crutching along behind her. “You might be in too much pain.”

“I am in a lot of pain,” I say earnestly.

Her lips twitch.

“You know what that means.” I make my way to the couch and sit carefully.

Her eyes warm as she watches me. “What?”

“Blow job.”

She snort-laughs.

I actually laugh, too. “What are you doing here, beautiful?”

“Apparently, fellatio.” She comes to sit beside me. “You sounded so down, I decided to visit. I brought my computer so I can get some work done. I have a conference call tomorrow afternoon, but I can do that here. And it’s a long weekend, so I don’t need to be back in New York until Tuesday.”

My chest fills with carbonated heat. I swallow. “Thanks.”

“So, which leg? Right?” She lays her hand gently on my thigh.

“Yeah. Fuck. Which means I can’t drive.”

“Aw. Well, if you need things, I can go get them. Food…beer…”

“Condoms.”

She laughs. “That, too.”

“Just kidding. I have lots.”

“Whew.”

Our eyes meet and hold and warmth spreads from my chest through my body.

“I can help with other things, too,” she says.

“Like, a sponge bath?”

“That would be fun. But seriously, you can’t take a shower?”

“Okay, yeah, I can. But I’m sure I need help. I might lose my balance and fall. Or something.”

She leans in and rests her forehead against mine. I stay that way because it feels so good. “I can definitely help in the shower,” she says in a low, husky tone.

“Thank you.” I breathe in and out slowly. “For coming. I’m…glad you’re here.”

“You could’ve asked.”

I close my eyes. No. I couldn’t ask her to come. Because that would mean…that would be more…fuck. I’m such a stupid fucking idiot. I don’t even know what’s going on in my own head.

I just know I’m happy she’s here.

Later, after she makes us dinner, which is delicious and healthy beef fajitas, she leads me into the bedroom. Apparently, she can tell I’m tired and hurting.

“Just lie there and relax.” She climbs on the bed with me where I’m propped up on pillows, pulling her T-shirt off over her head, leaving her in a lace bralette and low-rise jeans.

My dick does the opposite of relax.

She crawls between my legs and pushes my T-shirt slowly up over my abs and chest. Her soft hands feel so good, rubbing over my pecs, then my nipples, which makes my dick even stiffer. I crunch up and reach behind my neck to pull the shirt off.

“There,” she says softly. “That’s very nice.” Her gaze moves over me like a caress. I fucking love the look in her eyes, all heated admiration and lust. Then her gaze lands on my groin where my erection is tenting the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. “Very nice.” She makes a throaty little purring sound that’s super-hot.

She curls her fingers into the elastic waistband of my athletic shorts, which are low on my hips, and slowly inches them lower…and lower…until my dick springs up eagerly. Hot need builds in my body.

“Look at you,” I say hoarsely. “Licking your lips, like you’re dying to suck me.”

She slides her bottom lip between her teeth and lifts her gaze to meet mine. “I am.”

I groan and glide my hands into her hair, playing with it a little, then I tighten my grip and draw her closer to my throbbing cock. She tugs my shorts lower on my hips and I lifted to help her with that, trying not to grimace at the pain.

“Are you okay?” She pauses, fingers curled around the waistband of my shorts.

“Yeah. Don’t stop.”

She gets rid of my shorts. Her gaze returns to my dick, now lying against my stomach, and she swipes her tongue over her bottom lip and curls her fingers around the base of my shaft.

Another moan escapes my lips and I press my fingertips into her skull and urge her closer.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers and then her tongue comes out to taste me.

Sensation jolts my body, hot and powerful. “Oh, yeah, baby.” My fingers tighten in her hair. “Lick me…open up and suck me.”

She shivers but continues to explore with her tongue, all the ridges and heavy veins and weeping tip, then she licks me all up and down. I groan.

Her mouth opens to take me in, my wet flesh gliding over her lips and deep inside her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp. My balls squeeze and fire burns in my center.

She tightens her lips on me and slides them up and down, then sucks hard.

“Your mouth is so hot,” I moan. “Hot and greedy. I love it.”

She slides her fingers under my balls, curves them and gently squeezes. Excitement whips through me, from my groin all the way to my fingers and toes. I’m burning hot.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good.” My hips want to lift off the bed and thrust deeper into her mouth, but I don’t want to move, don’t want the pain in my thigh to distract me from this incredible pleasure. But she knows, and she takes me deeper, relaxing her throat.

“Aw, fuck. That feels so good.”

She slides her mouth all the way up my shaft, letting her teeth scrape gently over the ridge at the crown, and I jerk against her mouth and hands. Electricity sparks over every nerve ending in my body, heat coiling and tightening inside me. She rubs her tongue over the head, teasing me, then sucks me deep again. I fill her mouth, her throat, and her fingers play over the skin of my balls.

When she opens her eyes to look up at me, our gazes meet in a burning connection. Christ, she’s beautiful like that, her mouth and hands on me, eyes full of lust, her cheeks flushed. It’s so dirty and yet so gorgeous. “You love this, don’t you, beautiful girl?”

“Yes.” She flicks her tongue over the head of my cock, swirls it around as she slides up and down my shaft again, then nips again with her teeth. My body twitches hard, fiery sensation zapping up my spine, and my fingers tighten on her head. “I love it. I love giving you this.”

“Love it, too.” I gentle my grip and slide my fingers through her hair. “Suck me. All the way. Suck me dry.”

“Mmm. Yes. I want to give that to you.”

I palm the back of her head and draw her closer. Her movements pick up speed, her mouth sliding over my flesh. Excitement builds inside me and I grunt out my pleasure. “Yeah. Just. Like. That.”

Her eyelids droop and she sucks harder.

“Wow, Kendra. So good…not gonna last…” My cock swells even more and a shout bursts out of me. Fire explodes low in my belly, heat shooting through my balls and my cock. My head goes empty, blinding light blasting behind my eyelids as I gush into the hot wet suction of her mouth. She keeps sucking, my body tight and trembling, my hands tangled in her hair, my cock pulsing in her mouth.

“Fuuuuck,” I say on a groan and then release her head. She slowly lets me slide out of her mouth, holding me to tenderly lick the crown. “Jesus, Kendra.”

She sits back on her heels, licks her lips, and gazes up at me. Something stretches out between us, thick and heavy. A moment of closeness…intimacy. I’m panting and gasping for air and my chest is full of emotion. What she just did…what she just gave me…wow. And the fact that she loved it so much makes it that much hotter. That much more important.