“No one will be there?” I ask.
“Gerry has a split shift,” he replies. “Players and the public will be kept out. It’ll just be us.”
“Alright,” I breathe, sure I’m going to regret this. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I can feel his gaze on me as I walk back to my room. He’s right, but how do you take back your life when you’ve been living in fear for so long?
LEVON
Fuck am I sore. I’ve been working through an injury, and while it’s healing, there are certain exercises that can flare things up. They’re meant for mobility, but I’m currently cursing out the assistant coaches in my head.
“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing,” Dr. Santo Diaz growls in my ear, his hand on my neck. “You need an ice bath. Move it.”
My lips twitch at how much I want to say something inappropriate, but he’s right. Fuck, I really hate ice baths.
“Yes, Doctor,” I murmur, instead of calling him Daddy.
Santo and I are doing a dangerous dance. The owner doesn’t want fraternization between the staff and hockey players, but I doubt he’s ever thought about why the team’s doctor’s dick shouldn’t be down my throat.
I really like Santo, and I’m generally a bit of a dick to people. I help with charity work when I have time because it keeps me busy on the off season, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy socializing with others. I have a problem with fighting at bars, which means I minimize how often I drink as well.
I know I have anger issues, okay? I’m working on it by turning it into really hot sex with Santo. Puck bunnies follow hockey players around like a bad smell, but they can get clingy. The rest of the team can engage in shit like that.
I’m over it, and have been for awhile.
“Those eyes spell trouble,” Santo murmurs.
I can’t help the grin that spreads as I strip out of my clothes, headed toward an ice bath that’s ready for me. The staff here is amazing, and I can’t imagine playing for any other team.
Even when there are people I want to avoid, like our PR manager. I thought that toning down how much trouble I get into would pull her back from this ridiculous notion that we just need to date more, but I can tell the pressure is going to intensify instead.
Santo helps me ease into the ice bath, and I drop my head back as I wait for the pain to numb. I’m used to the aches in this sport. In my mind, it’s all worth it for the thrill of doing something I love. I’m only thirty-two. As long as I take care of my body, I can keep playing.
There are other people in the room, and Santo does the rounds to help with stretches, deep tissue massage, or make suggestions. Every touch is professional, there’s no heat in his eyes when he works, except when his dark brown eyes move to me.
There’s no doubt that the man is gorgeous. Perfectly olive skin without a single trace of a tan line, just enough scruff on his face to look roguish, and strong hands. Others on the team have made jokes that they’ll gladly do anything he asks, sparking jealousy inside me.
I don’t like to share. As an alpha, that’s kind of silly when so many end up in a pack. I’m very much a loner. It’s an ongoing joke that I’m willing to be a team player on the ice, but the world can go to hell and I’d barely blink an eye.
Coach Miles is working on this with me. As assistant captain, I’m supposed to give a shit about my teammates. Players come and go, and it’s hard for me to form attachments. That’s why Santo came out of nowhere and surprised me.
“Out,” Santo grunts, making me roll my eyes as I stand. He hands me a towel, and I dry off as I climb out of the tub. “I’ll be back guys.”
My teammates nod without paying attention, each of them lost in the aftercare of practice.
Following Santo to another exercise room, I watch with hooded eyes as he tosses away my towel and gazes at my cock.
“I just got out of the ice, what do you expect?” I ask, though I can feel it beginning to stir.
“I think you need to sit down and let me suck your cock,” he murmurs, pushing me into the position he wants me in.
“That’s new,” I tease him, watching as he drops to his knees.
“Not really,” he grumbles. “You’re just a slut for my dick.”
“This is true, Daddy,” I say, smirking as he glances up at me. “I can’t help it.”
His hand wraps around my shaft, pumping it at its base. I’m already at half mast at this point, just from being around him. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fucked my cock with my fist in the shower while thinking about him. He heard me say his name once when I came, and that’s how this whole thing started.
