Oh, God… I add a second finger but I want more. I want something harder and thicker.
I want Kodiak to bend me over and fill me up. I move my fingers faster, pressing my thumb against my clit and reaching up to cup one breast with my free hand.
I’m getting close… so, so close.
I imagine those emerald eyes staring down at me as Kodiak pounds into me and I’m a goner.
My orgasm hits me fast and hard (I’ve never had problems getting there on my own) and I lean back against the tiled shower wall to keep from collapsing when my knees shake.
Ugh… that was good, but not as good as what Kodiak did to me. Too bad that whoever he was he took off like a total jerk right after.
A startling thought crosses my mind at that moment. One that has my heart racing and my blood running cold.
What if he was one of the Night Hawks? No… no, that’s impossible. That couldn’t be the case, because that would only spell trouble with a capital fucking T.
CHAPTER SIX: GUYS’ NIGHT
ZANDER
Monday morning,I head over to the apartment and use the key Carson gave me to let myself in. I only brought a small duffle bag of clothes with me, figuring I’d just go back and forth between here and my place as needed. It’s not like my building is on lockdown or something.
The apartment is still fully furnished since Grace moved in with Jensen. Stepping in the door, the kitchen is to my left with its small island and stools, and the living room is straight ahead with a couch and TV on a stand. The hallway is just past the kitchen and leads to the bedroom and bathroom. It’s kind of small, but quaint and neat. A little feminine with the soft colors and floral decor, but that’s fine. I’m not a guy who’s afraid of girly things.
Dropping my bag in the living room, I go to the kitchen to check the fridge and am pleased to find that it’s full. Didn’t realize Carson would be so thoughtful. Grabbing a loaf of bread, mayo, mustard, and a package of sliced turkey, I make myself a sandwich and dig through the cupboards to find some chips.
Leaning on my elbows on the island, I scroll through my phone as I eat my sandwich. The Cloak app stares up at me,willing me to click it, so I do. It’s been two days since I created my profile, and I’ve been getting plenty of pings, but I’ve only started a few conversations. None of them have really caught my interest, though, and I don’t feel a great deal of urgency to keep them going.
Hey, I know we’re not supposed to ask, but how tall are you?
I only like guys who make six figures.
If you want to get a sneak peek of me, I have an OF. It’s only $19.99 a month.
How big is your dick?
Sighing, I set my phone back on the countertop and shake my head. So far, this app hasn’t impressed me. Even with the goal of creating deeper connections, people seem to want to circumvent the rules, push their own agenda, or try to dig for more information than I’m willing to give right now. I was really hoping this app would be different from the other dating sites, but I’m afraid I’m going to be disappointed.
Finishing my sandwich, I clean up the kitchen before heading to the bedroom to change. I need to get to practice, which I’m looking forward to. Unlike dating, hockey makes total sense, and I just need to get onto the ice and forget all about Cloak.
Stepping onto the ice, the cold bites through my gear for half a second before adrenaline kicks in. My skates grip as I push off, gliding into position at the blue line. Coach blows the whistle, and we start with warm-up laps. I fall into rhythm, keeping an eye on Wilder and Jayce ahead of me, already calculating who I’ll likely be paired against in the first drill.
After stretches and some puck handling, we move into breakout drills. I drop back toward the corner, stick down, ready for the pass from Carson. He fires it over, and I catch it cleanly on my tape. Quick glance up—I see Wilder cutting up the boards. I bank the puck off the glass to him, then shift to support. He misses it, but I’m already turning, skating backward, prepared for the turnover.
Coach barks something from the bench, and we cycle into a 3-on-2 drill. I’m paired with Owen, and we hold the line as the forwards come rushing in. My eyes are locked on the puck carrier, but I’m tracking the trailer too. He passes wide, trying to draw me out—I don’t bite. I angle him toward the boards, stick in the lane. He tries to cut in, but I get a piece of his stick and shove him off balance. Puck squirts loose, and Wilder clears it.
Next drill’s a scrimmage. I love this part. I take my spot, right side, and focus on gaps. Jensen’s aggressive today, so I cover a bit more conservatively. The opposing winger cuts across the middle—wrong move. I step up, body solid, and separate him from the puck. It bounces back into our zone, and I hustle to retrieve it. Head up. I fake left, pivot right, and skate it out myself. Feels good.
By the time practice winds down, my legs are burning, but I don’t mind. I tap my stick on the ice as we circle up, sweat dripping, heart pounding. This was just what I needed. The adrenaline and physical exertion has helped push Cloak from my mind… at least for the time being.
We all make our way into the locker room, everyone pumped after such an intense and successful practice. Reaching my locker, I start stripping off my pads, ready to shower and spend the rest of the night chillin’ with my boys.
“Yo, Jensen, Carson, Owen, you want to join us tonight?” Wilder says, looking toward those guys with a raised brow.
“What are you up to?” Carson asks.
“Zander and Jayce are coming to my place for some gaming and then we’re going out,” Wilder explains, shooting me a glance. I give him a thumbs up because I’m so fucking in. Honestly, I’d usually much rather game than go out to the bars.
“Sorry, fellas,” Carson shrugs. “I’m going to go kidnap Sky and take her out to dinner. She’s been working on this new game - some epic quest RPG - and she’s been really stressing. I want to give her a break.”
