Laughter fills the ice.
“Try again,” Willits says.
“Put effort in this time, Jordan,” Marion says.
I raise a brow as both men get to their feet.
“Okay, once more. I was almost there,” Nason says. “Spread your feet wide, Tove.”
“That’s what he said,” Felton mutters, causing snickers to fill the ice.
Morris slides back to where he’d been and stands with his legs apart. I join my team where they’ve gathered in a cluster toward the middle of the ice as Nason begins sprinting around the perimeter behind Tove, following the boards right up until Tove is dead ahead. He digs his skates in to gain more speed then dives so he slides.
He’s doing his best to keep his body straight, arms directly over his head like he’s diving into the water. We watch witha strange aura of silence until he shoots under and between Tove’s legs and makes it out the other side. He almost clears Tove, except he celebrates too early. His foot catches on Tove’s, sending Tove stumbling to the ground.
Felton, mad reflexes that he has, manages to grab onto Tove before he slams on his face or hurts his wrists trying to keep from hitting his face. Tove grins up at him.
“Aw, you almost have it,” Marion says with a scowl. “Too excited. Celebrate early. Do again.”
As a group, everyone turns to look at Coach. He’s standing in the box with Assistant Coach Reno, our two PTs, and a couple other guys that are here from time to time. Coach’s arms are crossed over his chest. He’s in a suit like always, but he’s not wearing a tie and his top couple buttons are undone.
The corners of my mouth quirk a little because I’m confident that this is his version of dressing down. What he wore when we were camping is simply slumming it. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t wear slacks and a button-down.
His eyes flicker to mine, and I smirk. His cheeks flush a little, and his lips twitch as he fights a smile. Is he thinking about the chastity cage he’s wearing right now too? When he shifts his weight a little, I think maybe he is. My smile widens as I turn back to my team.
“Once more,” Coach says.
His voice is different than it is when he’s my omega. There’s a sharper tone. A more confident edge. There’s no softness, hesitation, or insecurity in it.
While I’m watching Nason take another dive through Tove’s legs, my mind is locked on a ghostly vision of Shively on his knees. Last night as I laid in bed thinking about Shively, I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’m doing this right.
We’re hovering somewhere between full-time and part-time. I know we can’t be entirely full-time because of hockey, andthat’s okay. As I told Shively, hockey is entirely separate. It doesn’t count. For all intents and purposes, hockey is another reality.
So if we count everything outside of hockey as full-time, we’re still hovering somewhere in between. Neither of us is entirely confident in what we’re doing. I’m more confident than Shively because I think he’s simply taking my cues, instruction, and working off instinct as he finally lets himself give in to his submissive side.
But me? I’m going off instinct, my hunger for this dynamic with him, and books. We’ve worked on boundaries, rules, expectations, structure, and routine, but so much of it revolves around the bedroom. I’m not sure we’ve taken the step beyond that except for small things like his check-ins, the cock cages, and….
And what?
We’re not moving toward something, but I think we should be. I think we should always be evolving, striving for a higher purpose, bettering ourselves. Pushing new limits or trying new things? I don’t know, but since last night, my gut has been twisting as I think that maybe I’m not giving Shively everything he needs and deserves.
I’m not sure he’s even getting everything he wants since he doesn’t truly know what he wants. I’ve done research on the D/s lifestyle, but as far as I can tell, Shively has not.
“Ukiah!”
I jerk my attention to Coach.
“What just happened? Head in the game,” he yells.
A glance around shows that my entire team is moving. “Sorry, Coach,” I holler back, joining my team as they split into four groups. Naturally, I join Willits. Felton is in goal since he’s always in a net with Marion on the opposite.
“Where you been?” Willits asks.
I shake my head as I watch my team, trying to figure out what we’re doing so I don’t have to ask. “Lost in thought. I don’t think I’m entirely present today.”
“You need to be or you’re going to be benched,” Willits says.
“As I should be if I screw up,” I agree. Idon’twant special treatment, and I hope that Coach will never give me any. Regardless of our relationship, I only ever want my place on this team, or any team, to be based on my skill.
