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Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series)

Page 11

by R. C. Stephens


  “Tell me about it.” A little shiver moves over her body.

  She slips off my coat and passes it to me. “Thank you. You know you don’t have to stay.”

  “I want to stay, if it’s okay with you.” I don’t know what’s happening. I usually only feel overprotective of Caitlyn. With Rebel, it’s different. I’m attracted to her, and the thought of someone hurting her makes me want to go apeshit.

  “It’s fine,” she says. “But you can take the desk and I’ll take the bed.”

  “Works for me.” I walk over to the desk and take out my laptop. I have some essays I need to finish up. When I head back on the ice tomorrow, I need to give it my all.

  Rebel leans on a bunch of pillows against her headboard and opens her laptop on her lap. The desk is situated at the side of the room so I get a perfect view of her working. She really is pretty. My gaze drops to the creamy skin at her neck.

  “Wolfe?”

  Shit. Busted.

  “Sorry. I’m finding you distracting,” I say.

  “You are?” She sounds surprised.

  “Is that so impossible to believe?”

  “I thought you were only interested in friendship,” she says, and I worry this is her way of letting me down easy.

  “What if I’m not?” I know my question will make her feel uncomfortable, but I can’t help it. Challenge on.

  She goes silent.

  “Say something,” I urge her.

  “You want to be more than friends?” she asks.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I admit. “I’m not boyfriend material.”

  “I’m not some puck bunny you can use and then not talk to the next day,” she states, and I like that she’s using her backbone.

  “I know that. I like talking to you, spending time with you,” I say, feeling very out of sorts. I don’t do this with chicks. “Sorry. This is freaking weird for me. I don’t know what’s going on with me. All I know is that when that Antonio guy is falling all over you during training time in the morning, it pisses me off. Then I had this fantasy about pinning you to the wall in the locker room,” I add. But when I look at her, her lower lip drops and so does her head. “Shit, I’m talking too much.” I stand from the desk and pace her room. There isn’t much room to move and her scent is everywhere, making me think of things I want to be doing to her.

  “No, keep talking.” Her gentle demand surprises the shit out of me. Her cheeks have a healthy flush. “What about the locker room?”

  “Are you saying you’re into me?” I ask.

  “I might be saying that,” she says nervously.

  “Might isn’t good enough.” I move closer to her bed.

  “Tell me about the locker room fantasy,” she says so quietly I’m not sure I heard her.

  “I wanted to take you by the hand, lead you to the locker room, and pin you up against a wall and have my way with you,” I say, feeling weird about all this. What the hell am I doing? She isn’t that type of girl. Only, a soft moan escapes her, like she likes me talking this way, and her breathing picks up. Fuck me! She seems really turned on. “What would happen if I kissed you right now?”

  “I’d kiss you back,” she says, and that’s all it takes for me to crawl onto her bed and toss her laptop aside gently. I kneel in front of her and place my palms on her cheeks, then I press my lips to hers. Slowly at first as I taste her sweetness. Our lips connect and we kiss as heat burns inside me. I want more. This. Isn’t. Enough. I coax her mouth open with my tongue and her tongue gets into the mix too. I press her onto her back and hover above her using my arms for support. Her body fits perfectly against mine and her hands rake up and down my back as our lips move and our tongues tangle. She presses her hips into me and she must feel my raging hard-on. It makes me think she’ll get scared and tell me to cut this shit out, but she moans, needing more friction.

  “Wolfe,” she whispers. “I need you to touch me.” Something about her is so innocent in this moment. I don’t know if she’s a virgin or not, but what I do know is that she doesn’t trust most people, yet she trusts me. I don’t want to fuck this up. My own thoughts leave me confused.

  “What do you need, baby?” I ask her.

  “For you to touch me,” she says again, and my dick twitches in my pants. Her words alone make me want to come so hard that I feel like a teenage boy all over again.

  My hand moves under her shirt. My fingers graze her smooth skin as I allow them to slip into her bra and play with her nipple. Her breathing picks up and her mouth is by my ear where I feel her cool, fast breaths. She sounds so freaking hot.

  “That feels good,” she says.

  “I want you to feel good,” I say back.

  I tweak her other nipple and she thrusts her hips into my crotch. I have to take a breath and maintain some control because I want to take all her clothes off and…

  “Wolfe.” She says my name again and it sounds so hot and heavy. “I need more touching.”

  I groan and it’s deep and guttural. I lean to the side and lie beside her. I reach for the button on her jeans and pop it open, keeping my gaze on her face. “Is this okay?”

  She nods and swallows.

  I lower her zipper and slip a finger inside her panties.

  Fuck, she is soaked. I groan again. “You feel so good,” I whisper, taking her lips with my mouth. As we kiss, I work her over. She pants into my mouth and I feel her swelling.

  She reaches for my jeans, but I stop her.

  “Why?” she asks.

  “I want this to be about you,” I tell her. And I do. “You’re so beautiful, Rebel. I want to make you feel good.” And I don’t know what’s happening here, but I don’t want to screw you over or hurt you, like ever.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m going to come. Gosh, it’s been so long—” Before she can even finish her sentence, her head tilts up, her lips open to an O, and she orgasms, rolling her hips against my fingers. I work her over, milking the orgasm right out of her. My dick pulses painfully against my jeans, but for the first time in my life, I am taking pleasure in someone else’s pleasure while putting my needs aside. When she comes down from her high, she looks sated, flushed, and perfect.

  “What about you?” She reaches for my jeans again. “Don’t you want me to take care of you?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and take a breath because I could get off to just the thoughts of Rebel taking care of me.

  “I want that so badly, but I don’t know what’s going on here, and I don’t want you regretting anything,” I tell her honestly.

  “That’s sweet,” she says on a sigh.

  “I’m not sweet, Rebel. I’m confused.”

  That causes her to frown and pull away a bit. “I want you so much, but I’m messed up when it comes to girls. I don’t commit,” I say, grinding my jaw. It’s like I have a good angel and bad angel sitting on either of my shoulders and I don’t know which one to follow now.

  “I’m not asking for commitment. I just wouldn’t want you being with someone else if we are going to fool around,” she says, surprising me.

  “I honestly can’t think of wanting anyone else but you,” I say. And it isn’t a lie. I haven’t been with anyone since we started hanging out. I attributed it to a weird dry spell, but now I realize I’ve been into her for a while.

  “And if that changes, you need to let me know. Can you do that?” she asks.

  “I don’t want to fuck things up between us. I mean, I like talking to you. I never really talk about my family with anyone,” I admit. Cole knows shit that went down with my family, but I don’t exactly have heart to hearts with him about what’s going on now with Cait and stuff.

  “I hate to tell you this, but at this point, we’ve already crossed the line, so we might as well keep going,” she says.

  “So, what now?” I ask.

  “First, let’s get one thing straight. No one can know about us. I don’t need any weird attention from guys or girls around campus. I like
my privacy.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Good.” She kisses me again and then she moves her lips from my mouth to my neck.

  “Are you a virgin?” I ask her.

  “That’s a talk for another night,” she says, and her lips graze my neck even lower.

  She pops the button on my jeans and then lowers the zipper. I shift a little to lower them down my ass. She reaches her hand into my boxers and strokes my cock.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” I groan, rubbing her arm and letting her take the lead.

  Her finger runs over some pre-cum and she licks it off her finger. So fucking hot and not at all what I was expecting. She then shifts herself so she’s spread eagle across my waist. I don’t know what to expect from her and that entices me more.

  She dips down and takes me in her mouth and I feel my balls tighten. Fuuck!

  “I don’t think I’m going to last,” I pant. This is new for me. I don’t know what kind of spell she cast, but I’m in lust.

  “Let go,” she says, and her tongue swirls around my shaft. Her lips wrap around me again and she takes me deep, pumping up and down, and I can’t hold on anymore. I let go like she asked, only I free fall as I come so fucking hard fireworks spark my vision.

  Rebel continues to suck, swallowing all I have to offer. When I’m done, she wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her sweatshirt and lays beside me. Truth is, I want more with her. More Rebel, more of her sweet smile, more of her flushed cheeks. I’m scared of what that means, so I shut down my thoughts and we lie silently together as I hold her in my arms. I don’t want to run off or run her off. I should freak out, but I can’t because I want what just happened to happen again and again.

  Thirteen

  Rebel

  “We need to talk,” Blossom says, sitting at our kitchen table, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

  “Why?” I don’t mean to be difficult, but she basically called me a liar yesterday. Besides, I am high on Wolfe and what happened between us last night. I don’t feel like having my bubble pop just yet.

  “Because this isn’t us. We don’t fight. We don’t not get along,” she says, searching my eyes, for what I’m not sure.

  “We don’t bring home guys who do coke either,” I remind her.

  “He slipped up, Rebel. He isn’t perfect, but he’s trying.”

  Her words make my blood pump hard and fast. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? He didn’t slip up and accidentally snort coke in our bathroom. How can you even say that after everything we went through with Dad?”

  “I love him,” she states, and those words hit me like a ton of bricks.

  I blow out a frustrated breath and fall into the kitchen chair across from her. “I was afraid of that. I’m not going to lie and tell you this is okay. It’s not. You clearly saw a pattern of behavior growing up between Mom and Dad. You’ve found a man exactly like Dad. In the psych class I took last year, my prof said that people tend to gravitate toward personalities they are used to. Think about that, Blossom. And think what it will mean for your future if you stay with a man like Preston.”

  I look at my phone to check the time. “Shit. I need to be in class in twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll drive you,” she offers, and knowing my sister, I can tell she’s processing my words, knowing they hold truth.

  “Thanks.” I quickly make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch later since I have classes all day. I grab my jacket and my backpack and we head out.

  “So, you want to tell me who that guy was last night?” She smiles mischievously. I wish she would tell me that she’ll dump Preston, but I get that she needs time to work through this.

  “A friend,” I answer curtly. Because I’m not sure what Wolfe and I are. Friends? Fuck buddies? Just thinking about him makes my skin feel too warm.

  “A very, very handsome friend.” She grins, wagging her eyebrows.

  “He is, isn’t he?” I can’t help but swoon. “He’s captain of Westfall’s hockey team.”

  “Good for you. Reach for the stars,” Blossom says.

  “It isn’t like that,” I answer. “We’re just friends.”

  “With benefits,” she adds.

  I nod. “Yeah, but he isn’t boyfriend material. He’s warned me enough times.”

  “Aren’t you just setting yourself up for heartache?” she asks.

  “You know I don’t have many friends.”

  “I know,” she says chidingly. “But friends with benefits isn’t your style.”

  “I don’t want a boyfriend either. I don’t even want people to know that he’s my friend. That guy is super popular on campus. I don’t know what he sees in a girl like me, but I wouldn’t be able to handle all that attention,” I say.

  “See, we’re both messed up. You don’t get it, Rebel.” She flicks down the visor in front of me and opens the mirror. “What do you see?”

  I stare into the mirror. “Nothing I like.”

  “I see a beautiful, smart, talented person. You’re smoking-hot, Rebel. Did you forget high school so easily? All those boys you had after you.”

  “I’ve buried those memories. I’m not that girl anymore.” I turn my head and look out the window.

  “And why’s that?” she asks, challenging me in a way I don’t like, yet I know I deserve after giving her all that psychobabble.

  “Just leave it alone,” I tell her as she pulls up to the front of Mackee Hall.

  “No! I don’t want you making my mistakes either. You see, Rebel, I don’t think I deserve better than Preston. No, wait. I don’t think a guy who’s good will want someone like me. I have nothing to show for myself, nothing to offer.” Her eyes are full of unshed tears when I look back at her.

  “Then go to school as a mature student. Take some courses. You’re smart and beautiful. You deserve better than him, Blossom.” My emotions begin to rise to the point I feel tears pricking the backs of my own eyes.

  “Give yourself the same lecture,” Blossom says.

  “Yeah, I hear you. Two peas in a pod,” I say.

  “But one of us has a kick-ass guy who’s into her,” she reminds me.

  Thinking of Wolfe and his thick cock makes me flush. “That’s complicated.”

  “What good things aren’t?” she asks.

  “Good point. I’ve got to go. I hate walking into a lecture late. Everyone stares at me. Thanks for the ride.” I leave the car.

  “Bye, Rebel.” She sounds exasperated but gives me a small wave goodbye.

  I make my way to class, limping along, keeping my head low and not making eye contact. Blossom doesn’t get it. My missing limb is what people see when they look at me. It defines me.

  Fourteen

  Wolfe

  Practice is whipping my ass. I’ve been out on a light jog this week, plus I’ve been working my body in the gym, and I still feel like my chest is going to burst from the exertion of running drills.

  “Come on, Judd,” Coach Ramirez shouts. He wants me moving faster. “You want to join our games, give me all you got.”

  He’s gone from telling me to take it easy to being a drill sergeant.

  “We’ve got an important game tomorrow night, men. We need to divide the winners from the losers. The countdown to the Frozen Four is on and we will not face elimination. The Saklan Bulldogs are the reigning champions. We want their spot,” Coach says.

  The guys on the team cheer. Fuck, I wish I could play tomorrow night, but I know that isn’t on the table yet.

  Coach Cooper divides us up, then comes around and discusses some plays Saklan is known for. He gives each of us a job and then we play competitively against the other team. It’s a training technique that has worked well for us in the past. Coach Ramirez and Coach Cooper have the rep they do because they are badass, and a lot of Westfall’s hockey players get called up to the draft.

  We take our spots on the ice. Damn, it feels good to be back. These past few months, I’ve felt
like something vital was missing from my life, and now I know it was this. The cool air of the arena. My blades slicing across the ice, the speed, adrenaline. There’s nothing like it.

  Coach Cooper blows the whistle. He put me on center and I’m facing off against Dec.

  “Want to suck my balls?” Dec asks.

  “Why do you have to be so fucking crude?” I ask. He can be such an idiot.

  “Because I’m playing as your opponent now.” He winks. I swear, sometimes I worry about the dude. We met our first year on the team and he became good friends with Cole and me. That’s why we decided to rent the house together by second year.

  “Jackass,” I say.

  The whistle blows and we both want to hit the puck, but I get a better shot and it flies across the ice. I chase it down, enjoying the speed of skating swiftly across the ice. I was worried that my leg would start hurting if I pushed too hard, but I don’t feel a thing. Thompson is playing right wing and he swoops in to steal the puck from Cole. The puck flies across the ice and Baynard tries to steal it, but I stick handle my way around him, keeping my eye on the net, and I shoot. The puck flies straight into the net and I lose it. I full on cheer myself.

  The guys on my team skate by me giving me fist bumps.

  “Glad you haven’t lost it, Judd,” Coach says. Coming from him, those words mean a lot.

  “Does that mean I get to play Saklan?” I ask, because I hate the fact that a freshman has taken my spot on the team. The kid is good. He was thinking of entering the draft at eighteen, but then decided he should get a college degree so he has something to fall back on. Still, it stings to watch someone else in my position.

  “That isn’t a good idea, Wolfe,” he replies. “You’re just getting back on the ice. You should build your endurance. Let’s see how the rest of the week goes.”

  I can’t argue. It won’t get me anywhere. Even though my stomach sinks. This sucks.

  We go through a few more plays on opposing teams and I skate my ass off. After practice, we all head to the locker room to shower.

  “You did good, asshole. Glad to have you back,” Cole says, smacking my ass with a towel.

 

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