I pound into her so hard it shakes the bed, chasing the finish for the both of us.
“Luke,” she cries, and her entire body locks up beneath mine as her orgasm rushes through her. “Ahh, keep going.”
I grit my teeth and bear down, trying to prolong her pleasure as long as possible while staving mine off, but the sight of her under me and the pulsing of her around my cock, I’m done for.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan, pumping into her one last time before I still. Her hands run up and down my body, and I shudder in their wake. She chuckles softly as I collapse against her chest, careful not to crush her, but also not wanting to move just yet.
The sun is fully beating into the room now, and I know she needs to get up and going for the day ahead. Sensing that I’m about to move, she tangles her fingers in my hair and whispers against my neck, “Five more minutes?”
I relax and feel her to do the same. “Five more minutes. And then, you have a championship to win.”
42
Lennon
Murmurs skitter around the locker room like mice when I walk in. I wasn’t at practice yesterday due to Coach Maver’s order to rest, so this is the first time I’m seeing the entire team since the bus ride home Friday night. And in that time, clearly there has been a lot of talk.
About Luke’s blow up at Aubrey.
About him running on the ice after me.
About his noticeable absence in practice yesterday and again here today. Grace said Coach Maver told them all that he would no longer be here this weekend and that she didn’t want any questions. To keep their focus on the game ahead.
That’s worked for some, as they wear headphones and zone out to their pregame playlists, sitting still in their lockers. But most speak to each other in hushed voices, and I get more than a few sideways glances. There’s no hostility behind them, more so curiosity.
My skin feels too tight, like it’s not my own, but I keep my head up. And when I sit down at my own locker, a few of the girls immediately walk over.
Austen tosses me a roll of tape. “Well, good to see your reflexes still work.”
I chuckle and toss it back to her. “Still functioning.”
“How’s your head?” Charlotte asks.
“Good,” I say. “All good and ready to go today.”
“That was a gnarly hit,” Austen adds, pulling her hair up into a low ponytail. “Some of us tried to come find you Friday night at the hotel, but Coach Packley said to let you be.”
Thank god for that or else they would’ve found their other assistant coach in the bath with me. I school my facial expressions. “Yeah, I pretty much just slept the entire night and spent yesterday resting.”
They nod, and Austen nudges Aubrey’s shoulder. She sucks on her cheek before leveling her gaze on me. “I’m sorry about the hit,” she says, then winces when Austen pinches her. “I wasn’t paying attention and was too caught up in that Redhawks’ bitch chirping in my ear the entire breakaway…”
I wave her off. “Accidents happen.” I’m not angry at her for it. Yes, it was an avoidable hit, and if she would’ve kept a rein on her temper, it likely wouldn’t have ended up the way it did.
But I’m fine. I’m playing today, and that’s what matters most to me.
She chews on her fingernail, and I can tell she’s got more to say. I glance over at Grace, whose locker is next to my own, and she shakes her head, not knowing what’s up either.
Finally, Aubrey says, “Well I’m glad you’re handling it better than Coach Holloway did.”
My blood goes cold as my face grows hot at the mention of him.
“Yeah, did anyone tell you about how he screamed at me afterwards?” She arches an accusing brow at me, but there’s not necessarily malice behind it. If anything, she sounds a little…hurt.
I play with the end of my braid. “Yeah, I heard.” I don’t elaborate.
“And he hasn’t been around since then. Coach Maver said he’s not coming today, either. Do you know what happened?”
I feel not only the weight of their stares, but also those of everyone around listening. Suddenly the locker room has grown quiet, and even those who try to pretend like they’re busy lacing their skates or taping their sticks have their heads angled in our direction.
