“Don't.” I backpedal so fast I almost eat shit, heel catching on the floor. “I can't—don't touchme—”
My legs slam into the bed frame. I drop down hard, curling in tight, arms wrapped around my knees, forehead pressed to them. Eyes squeezed shut.
Smaller. Gotta be smaller.
Their laughter echoes in my head. The steam. Tile under my feet. The spray hitting my back while they shoved me against the wall. Their hands—
My chest seizes. It won’t expand, won’t let air into my lungs. I fold in tighter, trying to disappear, my body shaking uncontrollably.
“Here.”
Something soft brushes my arm, then a few seconds later the door shuts.
I force my eyes open. Everything’s blurred, swimming. My bear’s on the floor beside me.
Connor.
He gave me my bear.
I clutch it so tightly my arms ache as I rock back and forth, sobs tearing from me. The bear soaks it up, but it’s not enough.
I’m drowning.
My hands fumble in my pocket, shaking so hard I almost drop the phone twice before I get the screen open. I stab the only name I need.
The phone rings twice.
“Hello?”
“Dad.” My voice cracks, and with it, I do too.
Chapter 12
Connor
Captain’s practice is fucking killing me today. The freshmen look like they’ve done shit over the summer to prepare for the season. Big mistake. We’re defending champions with a reputation for having the best, most brutal players.
Zach plasters another new winger into the boards. The kid better learn or get the fuck off this team.
Unless he’s as stubborn as Henneman.
I sink my teeth deeper into my mouthguard. Spent the past two days in Zach’s dorm. My friend didn’t question when I showed up at two in the morning. Viktor had gone to Beckett's, so I crashed in his bed.
Not that I slept.
I had borrowed Zach’s laptop and spent the night watching the video feed of my room. Henneman was on the phone for hours, body shaking the same way it had when I touched him and he shattered.
Fuck.
Can't stop seeing it.
Ryan did most of the same yesterday. Should've gotten a camera model with audio because I have no fucking clue who was on the other end.
But giving him space wasn’t the only reason I stayed away.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I jerked off thinking about him. Or that we ended up kissing and grinding on one another. Or how when he’d flicked on the lights, his eyes on my dick, my orgasm hit hard.
And fuck, in that moment, I wanted him to watch. Wanted my husband to crave my dick.
