Player on Ice

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Player on Ice Page 12

by S. R. Grey


  Stanley Cup Blues

  Watching the game is hard, even with Cara by my side. I feel awful since it should’ve been the Wolves playing the Devils for hockey superiority.

  Alas, it’s all water under the bridge now. Or ice, as the case may be.

  Yeah right. If only. Nothing can take away the pain of fucking up in that elimination game.

  Uttering one long-ass sigh, I continue watching.

  And it’s brutal.

  It’s the seventh game of the series, winner takes all. The Oilers are looking good. Still, I can’t help but think how the Wolves could’ve taken the Devils in four.

  We’ll never know since I screwed up. And I bear that weight on my shoulders like Atlas holding up the world. I feel it even now, so much so that I feel the urge to hop up from the sofa.

  So I do. And the laptop slides over to Cara’s lap as I stand abruptly.

  “Sorry,” I mutter. I begin to pace. “I just need to walk around a little bit.”

  She presses Pause on the game and places the laptop on the coffee table. “Should we watch the rest another time?”

  “No, just give me a minute.”

  “Jaxon,” she breathes out. “You know that playoff loss in round two wasn’t your fault, right?”

  I laugh bitterly. “Try telling that to the fans.”

  When I glance over at her, she looks really…guilty?

  Huh?

  Why would Cara feel responsible in any way? She’s not the one who zoned out and messed up crucial plays. She’s not the one who got called for a penalty at the end. She’s not the one who lost the game.

  That’s why it’s perplexing when she lowers her head and murmurs what can only be described as a heartfelt, “I am so, so sorry, Jaxon.”

  I drop back down beside her so I can drape an arm over her shoulders. “Hey, hey, it’s not your fault, Cara.”

  “I kind of feel like it is, though,” she inexplicably replies.

  Wow, we sure must have some connection. She feels what I feel? This is incredible.

  “You really are the girl for me,” I murmur as I begin nuzzling her neck.

  She jolts away. “How can you even say something like that, Jaxon?”

  Yeesh, she’s taking the Wolves loss harder than I am. Crazy.

  “How can I not?” I counter, leaning back against the cushions. “We’re growing so close that you actually feel my pain.”

  She winces. “Oh, Jaxon…”

  “Not to worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take it to heart what you just said. The loss wasn’t entirely my fault.”

  “It really wasn’t,” she mumbles, shaking her head.

  “Hey, tell you what. I’ll stop blaming myself if you can smile for me.”

  She gives me her best attempt, but it’s a weak one.

  “Come on, Cara. You can do better than that.”

  It takes a few more tries, along with me cracking some really stupid jokes, but I finally get her to smile.

  It’s not the biggest grin, but it’s genuine, so I’ll take it.

  Still, somewhere deep inside of me, I feel like I’m missing something here.

  I just have no idea what it could be.

  A Cake to Bake

  Oh my God, I feel like the world’s biggest jerk. Watching Jaxon’s torment is pure torture for me.

  Because I caused it!

  If it hadn’t been for Mr. Hockeypants’s scathing post, Jaxon’s mistakes would’ve been forgotten long ago. As it stands, the last time I checked, the fans were still bitching and moaning about him online. Not on my blog, of course, since the comments remain turned off, but on many other hockey sites the venomous words are still flying.

  When he has to take a break from watching the game, it just about freaking kills me.

  I’m glad when he tells me he’s finally putting it all behind him. Phew. That’s the real reason why I can finally smile for him. Though I let him believe it’s because of his corny jokes. I’d pretty much do anything for this man right now.

  That’s why when he asks me if we can talk about some things—after we finally do finish watching the Stanley Cup final, which the Devils win—I’m all in.

  “Sure,” I say as I sit up straight. “What’s on your mind?”

  Jaxon closes the laptop and sets it aside.

  “I know we have a few more weeks left on the island,” he begins, “but I’ve been thinking about how things might play out once we’re back in Las Vegas.”

  Clearly, we’re about to have a talk on where we stand. I thought I’d have to be the one to initiate it, but apparently not. I’m glad Jaxon is so forward thinking. It bodes well for our future.

  Yeah, wait till he finds out you’re Mr. Hockeypants. I doubt that’ll bode well for your future.

  Enough!

  I clear my throat…and my head.

  “How would you like for things to play out?” I ask.

  He nods and seems to ponder. “Well, I obviously want to keep seeing you once we’re back in Vegas. I kind of already figured, even with all of our bickering”—we share a smile—“that we’d stay in touch. But now that we’re much more than just friends, it’s a given.”

  “It is,” I happily agree.

  “So…” He blows out a breath. “I have to warn you, I’m a little rusty when it comes to relationships—”

  “As am I,” I interject truthfully.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, do you consider us to be exclusive?”

  Is he kidding?

  Yes! I almost yell out.

  But I should at least try to play it cool, right?

  Coyly, I lift a brow. “Do you want us to be exclusive, Jaxon?”

  “Hell, yeah,” he blurts out.

  Hmm, so much for playing it cool.

  He’s not playing games, so why should I?

  I drop the coy façade and breathe out, “Thank goodness. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “Shit, babe, the thought of you with some other man would totally destroy me.”

  “Same here,” I say. But then I think it over and amend, “I mean, the thought of you with another woman. That would totally destroy me.” I ponder some more and add, “Though you out with a man would definitely upset me too.”

  That makes Jaxon laugh.

  Folding me into his arms, he assures me, “No men, babe, I promise.”

  I narrow my eyes up at him. “What about other women?”

  “None of them, either. It’s just you and me, babe.”

  “Isn’t that a song, Jaxon?”

  “I don’t know. But it can be. It can be our song, eh?”

  I smile contentedly. “That sounds perfect.”

  I lean into him and everything just feels so right.

  I only hope it will remain like this once I come clean.

  The next week on the island is our best yet. Jaxon and I have so much fun. We hang out on the beach during the days, like before, but the nights are so much better. We still take long walks, but when we come back to the house, we make love all night.

  As a result, I grow to love him more and more. I think he loves me too—I see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. He said he was falling, right? Well, maybe he’s fully fallen.

  Everything is just so relaxed with us, so different than before. Some days we just chill out on the patio. Those are the times we like to watch the little lizards run and play, making me remember how Jaxon saved one on that fateful day that finally brought us together.

  The kindness he showed made me fall for him completely. And I’ve been trying to think of a way to show him some sort of kindness in return, like a gesture of some sort.

  So when I learn that today is his twenty-fourth birthday, I know this is my chance. He won’t have any idea that I know, seeing as he hasn’t said anything about it being his big day today.

  Good. I can totally surprise him.

  I knew surreptitiously checking hockey blogs this fine morning, while he’s in the shower, was a good
move. That’s how I came upon the info about it being his birthday today.

  But now I think he’s coming out of the bathroom, so I power down the tablet and set it aside.

  On a side note, I have to say it was good to see the vitriol against Jaxon has finally died down. That means I should be able to tell him about Mr. Hockeypants real soon. And maybe I’ll luck out and he won’t be all that angry after all.

  Still, I’m not going to bring it up today. Not on his birthday, no way.

  What I do plan to do is bake him a cake…and then serve it to him in the nude. I’m committed to making this his best birthday ever, and that’s a good start. Plus, it’s my “kind” gesture—hee-hee.

  First, though, I need to figure out a way to keep him out of the house for a few hours.

  Hmmm…

  We start the day like usual, with breakfast downstairs. Most days Jaxon makes the food, since he’s a pretty good cook, but today I offer.

  I can’t let him cook his own birthday breakfast, right?

  “Just chill while I make you something delicious,” I tell him as I open the fridge. “You’re always cooking for me, so it’s only fair.”

  Jaxon holds up his hands as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. “Hey, you’re not about to hear any argument from me.”

  I just nod since I’m a little distracted.

  Peering into the fridge, I’m aghast to discover we’re running really low on eggs. This could throw a wrench into my birthday cake-baking plan.

  Ack, the housekeeper is due in tomorrow and she’s sure to bring more. But I need those eggs for Jaxon’s cake today.

  Thinking fast, I close the fridge and smile over at Jaxon. “Hey, how does bacon and toast sound for breakfast this morning?”

  “Add in a couple of poached eggs and you have yourself a deal,” he replies.

  Shit, think fast.

  “Uh, I’m actually not feeling very egg-y today. I think the smell of them might bother me. Do you mind if we just skip the eggs?”

  Jaxon stares at me in confusion. “But you usually enjoy having eggs for breakfast.”

  “I know.” I make a face and a big show of rubbing my stomach. “Not this morning, though. Like I said, I’m feeling a little off.”

  “You sure you’re okay, Cara?”

  “I’ll be fine in a few. You know how I sometimes feel icky in the morning.” That part is true. “I’m sure I’ll be back to normal in a couple of hours.”

  “Okay,” he says, sighing. “No eggs, then.”

  Poor Jaxon. I hate making up such an elaborate tale. Not to mention withholding his beloved eggs. I like eggs, yes, but Jaxon freaking loves them. Remember the one he put in the smoothie? So yeah…

  Still, his cake is the priority. Therefore, toast and bacon it is.

  After breakfast, we make our way out to the beach.

  As I settle onto a lounge chair, I notice Jaxon is peering over at me curiously.

  “Your boobs look bigger,” he remarks.

  I glance down at my chest. “It’s just an illusion,” I explain. “This new bikini has a push-up bra sewn into it.”

  It’s true. I ordered a bright orange bikini a while ago and it finally arrived. One of the selling points was that it creates “amazing” cleavage.

  I have to agree.

  And so apparently does Jaxon.

  Yanking me over to his chaise lounge, eliciting a squeal of delight from me, he slides his hand down into the top.

  “Fuck, Cara,” he rasps as he plies seductively at one nipple, then the other, making them pebble under his skilled touch. “I want you so badly right now.”

  Since it’s his birthday, although I can’t let him know that I know that just yet, I’m all-in on making any wishes of his today come true.

  I sit up and straddle his lap. Jaxon sighs and peels down the bikini top, but he doesn’t take it off all the way. With even more of a push-up effect now, my boobs look huge.

  Jaxon groans and rubs his smooth, freshly shaved face on each before he finally claims one nipple with his mouth.

  While he sucks, licks, and nibbles, I help him shimmy his swim trunks down a little. His cock springs free, hard and erect, and I see and want.

  Oh, do I want.

  Groaning, I push aside my bikini bottoms so he can just slip up into me.

  When he does, I gasp, “Yes, Jaxon, yes.”

  We take turns, me bouncing up and down on his length and him pumping up into me. Under the blazing sun, with sweat pouring down our slick bodies, and the waves crashing beyond us, we grind and thrust and just fuck the hell out of each other. We are one man and one woman on this isolated island.

  Good thing for that, as I wouldn’t want an audience for this carnal show.

  Afterward, Jaxon and I swim and frolic in the ocean, washing away the physical evidence, but not the lasting feelings of attachment, from our lusty encounter.

  When we return to our chairs, I wait till the sun dries my skin a bit, and then I say, “I think I’m going to go inside for a while.”

  He lowers his sunglasses, his green eyes so vivid and bright in the sun. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, yes.” Jumping up, I lean down to kiss him. “Everything is better than okay. But I have something I need to do. Are you cool with hanging out here for a little while by yourself? I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  Oops, that last bit just slipped out. All the sex and the sun have clearly muddled my mind. I just hope I didn’t tip him off that I’m aware it’s his birthday.

  Jaxon must think I’m up to something else, though, seeing as he doesn’t question me or argue.

  Wow, that’s kind of shocking. Bickering used to be our go-to interaction. How things have changed.

  “No problem, babe.” He smacks my ass playfully. “Go do whatever it is you have to do. I’ll be fine out here.”

  I scamper off before he changes his mind and decides to come with me.

  We can’t have that, as someone has a cake to bake.

  Naked Birthdays are the Best

  I don’t know what Cara is up to, not exactly, but I have a feeling it has to do with my birthday.

  She must’ve found out that it’s today.

  Maybe since she’s been taking a bigger interest in hockey—thanks to my influence, of course—she checked up on me online and found the info.

  I’m pleased she’s taking such an interest, but I sure hope she doesn’t run across any additional Mr. Hockeypants bullshit. It was bad enough that day she was looking at his site. I caught her red-handed, but I think she’s done with him. She’s on to bigger and better blogs these days, I’m sure.

  She checks her tablet every morning, I know that. Hell, I’ve caught her slipping it under the bed or onto the side table a number of times.

  I chuckle to myself. I swear one of these days I’m going to sneak a peek to see which hockey-related pages she frequents these days. If she’s wasting her time on any crappy shit—like Mr. Fuckface’s blog—I’ll be sure to redirect her to more reputable sites.

  In any case, she must’ve checked a good one this morning.

  No, make that a great one if it provided her with the date of my birth.

  Ah, and what a day it’s already been—the breakfast she made and then the sex on the beach.

  Yes, it is indeed a good life.

  I lean back and relax, knowing I’ll be out here for a while. I need to give Cara plenty of time to do whatever it is she’s up to.

  Later, when it gets too hot down on the beach, I move up to the patio. There’s shade on one side, so I drag a lounge chair over there.

  And that’s when I start to nod off.

  I dream the best shit, I swear. Stuff about Cara and me once we return to Las Vegas. I dream she comes to my games all the time and cheers me on like great girlfriends do. I dream of introducing her to my friends and teammates. I’ve always suspected that she’d get along beautifully with the wives and girlfriends, and in my dream everyone adores her. It
’s funny too, as the guys are shocked that I’m in a relationship.

  And that I’m so in love.

  I wake up immediately at that part.

  Whoa, what? What the fuck was that?

  I realize then that I’m in love with Cara Milne.

  And if my dream is any kind of premonition, we have a wonderful future ahead of us.

  Whoa, this is amazing. I don’t feel anxious or trapped, not like how I used to feel when I’d be getting in deep with someone. Those were the times when I’d usually end things.

  But, fuck, I can’t imagine doing that with Cara.

  I can think of absolutely no reason to not move forward with her. I mean, shit, we’re so open and honest with each other. And I just feel so overall good about her.

  Check that, I feel great!

  My elation is amped even higher when I step into the house about an hour later and Cara emerges from the kitchen with a huge triple-layer chocolate cake. Candles flicker in the breeze, but that doesn’t stop her. She smiles, before she breaks into a super-sexy rendition of “Happy Birthday.”

  And I’m not joking when I say super-sexy, seeing as she’s completely naked.

  I have to chuckle. It may be my birthday, but she’s the one in her birthday suit.

  “Sweetheart, you are the absolute best girlfriend in the world,” I declare.

  Finishing the song, she sets the cake down carefully on the coffee table.

  “Thank you, Jaxon. But you better make your wish before the candles melt into the icing.”

  “I would make one,” I say, “but I think all my wishes have already come true.”

  “Oh, come on,” she urges, her bare body glorious as she stands there bathed in the glow of the candles. “I’m sure you can think of something to wish for, something unrelated to us.”

  “That’s hard,” I confess.

  She gestures to the semi now tenting my swim trunks and coyly replies, “It looks like something else is hard too.”

  “Well, you are standing there with nothing on, gorgeous.”

  Stepping over to me, she smacks my arm. “Stop stalling and make that wish.”

 

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