“Same. But know, at the end of hockey season, I’m considering moving,” she says. “Away from the city.”
“So, I’m your last hurrah before you become a grown-up?” I ask, cockiness dripping from my tone. Knowing she’s considering leaving feels like a punch to the ribs.
That means we have a little over two months. A ticking clock appears in my mind, and it’s counting down to the moment when she’ll disappear again. Instead of feeling relieved, I feel something desperate clawing at my heart.
“Even better,” I lie. “Guess I’ll fuck your brains out until late-April.”
Kendall pushes me back against the opposite wall, and my shoulder pads thump against concrete. “So, it’s a deal?”
I hold out my hand, and we shake on it. “Deal. Now give me your phone.”
She pulls it from her back pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to me. I program my number into her phone as Chef.
“No texts. Only emojis. If anyone goes through our phones, they’ll be confused.”
I hand it back to her.
“Why Chef?”
“Because I’m bringing the meat and eating the cake.”
Laughter releases from her lips, and I love the sound of it.
“When does this begin?” I ask.
Then she drops to her knees and reaches for my pants. “Now.”
She looks up at me, brown eyes finding mine in the dim light. She’s on her knees for me, still wearing one of my team’s colors. After she came apart on my lap and walked away like she’d won,I expected her to keep that power. But she’s relinquishing it, giving me something I didn’t ask for.
“Can I?”
It’s my moment of truth as I stare at a line I shouldn’t cross. She’s asking for permission, for consent.
“Yes,” I hiss out.
I understand why she’s doing this. She wants to break me the way I’ve been breaking her.
“Thank you.” Her fingers find my belt and open it—the metal clinks in the quiet.
“Kendall.” Her name scrapes out of my throat.
She tugs at my hockey pants and fights with the bulk of my gear. I help her, fumbling with the compression shorts underneath. The cool air hits my skin for half a second before she wraps her warm hand around me.
Every thought in my head disappears.
Her perfect lips part, and when her mouth is on me, my knees buckle. It’s followed by the slow drag of her hot tongue over my tip before she takes me deeper. I force my eyes to stay open because I need to see this, need to watch her face because this is the most vulnerable she has ever been with me.
My hand finds her hair. I fist it gently and holding on as she works me. Kendall moans around me, and the vibration nearly undoes me. She takes me deeper, her hand working what her mouth can’t reach while her other one grips my thigh.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
I’ve imagined her worshipping my cock more times than I’d like to admit.
“You taste so good,” she says, stroking me, nearly milking the pre-cum from my tip.
But Kendall doesn’t stop, and I know if she keeps this up, I’m going to lose myself.
“Touch yourself for me,” I tell her.
