Dak lies back on the bed, his head resting on a pillow. He hooks his index finger and motions for me. “I believe we had plans for this evening. Bring your sweet pussy over here.”
Like a good girl, I do as he asks because I’m more than warmed up. I’m on fire and drenched with need for him. I climb over him and straddle his legs.
“Tracey,” he whispers and the intensity in his eyes pierces my heart and makes my legs quiver. He grips my hips. “Ride me, baby. Ride me until you can’t think of anything but how good this is. How good we are.” The heat coursing through me intensifies. There’s nothing slow or careful about the way he’s taking me now.
In one afternoon Dak has gotten me past all my apprehensions. Gone are all those anxious restraints. At least with him.
He loosens his grip on my hips and gives all control over to me. Bracing my hands on the hard planes of his stomach I willingly take it, because my need for him is scorching. I lift up and with one quick move he’s so deep inside me my groan and Dak’s “fuuuck” vibrate the air at the same time.
He’s watching me through lust-hazed eyes as I begin to move up and down in slow strokes, clenching around his shaft with every movement.
“It feels so good,” I growl.
“That’s it, baby. Ride it. It’s all yours.”
I grind down on his pelvis, feeling him so deep and hard the heat building within me is volatile. He curls toward me and sucks one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and teeth, and then moves to my other breast. His lips move over me, kissing and sucking and whispering words I can no longer comprehend.
I move in a faster pace, pulling up and crashing down on him over and over. He matches my rhythm. We’re so connected, moving in perfect synchronization. It’s all sweat, flesh hitting flesh, and currents of white, hazy heat threatening to combust.
My muscles are trembling so hard I’m no longer in control of my body and Dak tightens his grip on my hips again. I lean back and with a deep thrust he drives into me and we ignite together; our groans a combined rhapsody of pleasure.
I collapse onto him, burying my face in the curve of his neck. He’s still inside me; still connected. Neither of us says a word.
No tangled involvement, no feelings, our promise to each other before this all started. I think I might be breaking my promise.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Dak
Me: Hey Sleeping Beauty. Get that gorgeous ass out of bed. We’re supposed to be at the rink in an hour.
I don’t get any response to my text, which I kind of expected. I spent the rest of last night doing the most awesome dirty things I could think of to Trace. And by awesome, I mean by the time we were done we almost couldn’t breathe anymore.
I slipped out of her bed a little while ago and deciding she deserved the extra sleep, went home, showered and made us breakfast.
Me: Come on sweetheart. Up and at em. There’s bacon and eggs waiting for you. Opening my windows so you can smell the bacon.
I figure if anything will get her out of bed it’s food. Trace loves food.
Trace: I’m up. Just let me take a quick shower. you slave driver.
Me: No, baby. After last night, I’m your slave to command.
Trace: Yeah? I need to think about that. I don’t think there’s anything left for you to do to me…I mean for me. ;)
Me: That’s what you think.
Trace: Hmm. I’ll be right over. Don’t eat all the food!
***
Our first game is a thing of beauty. Textbook how to play to win. Everything is going right.
The last few seconds of the third period I’m moving from corner to corner behind the goal, setting up for the power play, looking for some open ice. Their defense is putting on the pressure. I pass down the left side to Dalt. He shoots it over to Batt, our right winger, and he passes back to me in the right corner. Dalt manages to split their defenders, leaving himself open. He’s ready when I shoot him the puck. Dalt takes the perfect shot on goal and we win 4-2.
Everyone in the arena is going crazy. My only thought is, I hope Trace is here. On our way into the locker room I search the bleachers and my eyes find her waving and jumping up and down. The big smile and excitement on her face have me feeling happier than winning the game. I put up five fingers to let her know I’ll be out in five minutes and she nods back.
I keep trying to make my way to the locker room. I can’t wait to get out of here and be with Trace. People are blocking our way, high-fiving us and congratulating us. You’d think we won the championship rather than the first game.
Next thing I know Bri’s in front of me, circling her arms around my neck and kissing me. “That was amazing. You guys destroyed them.” She has her lips against my ear so I can hear her over the noise of the crowd.
“Yeah. Thanks. It was a good game.” I smile, trying to be polite, but I wish she’d let me get by.
“I have no plans tonight. You want to get together? It’s been so long and I’m missing you, Dak.” She pouts and bats her lashes at me.
A few weeks ago, she wouldn’t need to ask twice. Like I said, Bri knows how to have a good time. But there’s only one girl I want to be with, even if we’re only going to sit on the sofa and watch GOT episodes.
“No. Sorry, Bri. Got somewhere to go. Thanks for the offer.” She doesn’t seem to be getting the message. I put my arm around her waist and pry her off of me and keep walking into the locker room.
The level of the adrenaline rush in the locker room is at Defcon 5. “Hey man. We’re going out for a few brews to celebrate. You comin’?” Dalt yells over to me.
“Nah man. Got plans!” I yell back while stripping off my gear.
“Oh yeah. I saw sweet Sabrina hanging all over you.” He smirks.
“No, dude. Not with Bri.” I peel the sweat-drenched pads off. When I look up Dalt is standing right next to me.
“Shit, man. You really got it bad for this chick, huh?”
“No. We’re just friends. Yeah, maybe. I don’t know,” I ramble because I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.
I made promises to Trace, promises I thought would be no problem for me to keep. Except, now I’m feeling things I’m not supposed to be feeling. I opened a door I thought was chained and padlocked and I’m not sure I can close it again, or if I even want to.
“Shit. You’re so fucked. I hope you know what you’re doing, dude,” Dalt adds.
I hope I do too.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Tracey
I slam the door so hard behind me it rattles the walls.
“Wow. What’s with you?” Nikki glances over at me before dropping her gaze right back to the screen of her phone. She’s sprawled on the sofa. When I don’t answer she glances back over to me. “What’s going on? I thought you would be out celebrating with the hockey god.”
I heave a big sigh. I thought Dak was telling me to wait for him when he saw me in the bleachers, but maybe he was only waving hello. We didn’t make any plans for tonight. He asked me to come to the game. Nothing more.
I have no right to be upset. We set up the terms of what we were doing before we hooked up and we both agreed to those terms. We never said it was exclusive. Besides, Dak said he would help me and he did. He’s free to see whoever he wants. So why am I feeling sick to my stomach thinking about him and Bri.
“Uh oh. What did the douchecanoe do?” Nikki sits up and puts her phone down on the coffee table.
“Nothing. He didn’t do anything.” I’m trying to sound indifferent, but I can’t keep my voice from shaking. I walk through to the kitchen. I could use a beer…or ten, but I settle for water.
“Don’t tell me nothing happened. Yesterday you were all bubbly, whispering and giggling with the superhero, and tonight you look like someone stole your puppy. What’s up?” Nikki is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. Such a perceptive, persistent little thing. Good
friends can be such a pain in the ass.
Before I can answer there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll be right back, and then you’re going to tell me how badly I need to kick that boy’s ass.”
I smile at her threat and the thought of her trying to beat the crap out of Dak to protect me. Truth is, the way she’s ripped, she might be able to hold her own against the jackass. I hear Nikki’s irritated voice coming from the living room and there’s no mistaking who it is she’s talking to.
“Hey, Bambi. Where did you go? I thought you were going to wait for me. And what’s up with Nikki? Did she run into Dalt tonight or something?” Dak crosses the room and leans in to kiss me. I turn toward the counter before his lips touch me.
“What’s up, babe? I thought we could go over to the Blue Goose and grab a beer with some people to celebrate. Want to go?” He presses into me, moving my hair back and brushing kisses along my neck. Dammit. I can’t keep myself from trembling at the touch of his lips on my skin.
“Um…no…I…” I move away from him because I can’t think while he’s this close and kissing me.
“It’s cool. Want to hang out here and watch more episodes of GOT?”
“You don’t have to. You can go celebrate with…with whoever you want to.” I suck in my lip and bite down because dammit, I am not going to cry. It’s ridiculous. I hold no claim to Dak. We’re friends. Friends with bone-melting benefits.
“Oh…okay. I thought…nah it’s cool. I guess we accomplished what we said we were going to. You’re all good now so…” Although I’m expecting his usual cockiness, there’s no mistaking the disappointed tone in his voice as he turns to leave.
“I saw you with Bri. You had your arm around her waist and you were kissing her.”
If we’re going to remain friends, even though being just friends now is going to be extremely difficult, if not impossible, at least for me, we need to be honest with each other.
“What are you talking about?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head like he’s trying to make sense of my words.
“I saw you with Bri after the game. She was all over you. It’s…it’s fine, you can be with whoever you want. We were only…we never said—”
He closes the distance between us before I even realize he’s moved. Cupping both sides of my face with his hands, he crashes his lips onto mine. “Listen to me,” he says, his lips touching mine. “I don’t want Bri or anyone. Let’s get one thing straight. While we’re doing this, if you still want to do this…whatever it is we’re doing, there can’t be anybody else. It’s just you and me, while it lasts. Agreed?”
“Uh, agreed.” I try to nod, but he’s holding my head between his hands.
“So, you want to keep doing this?” he asks, his eyes piercing straight into my soul.
“Yeah, sure.” My words don’t match the level of certainty of how much I want him. “But when it’s done, if one of us wants to move on, we’ll tell the other one before we hook up with anyone else. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“And no messy feelings or falling in love. Right?” I ask.
Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me we can’t go back from all the feelings we’ve already unleashed.
“Uh…right. Sure. That was the deal.” He lets go of me and runs his hand through his hair. “You know me, Bambi.”
“Yeah. Me too.” I give him a forced smile because I do know him. And I wasn’t supposed to be feeling any of this for him.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dak
The weeks are flying by. My schedule is gruesome, keeping up with classes, games and practice, both for hockey and the Winter Fest.
The team is killing it though. We can’t do anything wrong. Every pass goes right where we want it. Wolfe is like a cement wall at goal and nothing gets past him. With only one loss, it looks like we’re on our way to another championship, maybe even another seed in the Frozen Four.
Trace and I are rocking our skating routine too. We’re on the ice every morning at five and in each other’s arms every night. In between, we do our research together, study together, and hang out, going to lunch or dinner, or the movies or watching our favorite shows. There’s a couple of shows besides GOT we never miss, like Vikings, and I turned her on to Outlander.
She likes those reality shows like Crazy Ass Housewives or whatever it’s called, and I can’t stand that shit. So we compromise; I watch some of that crap with her and she watches The Walking Dead with me. I think Lisa is the biggest crazy bitch on her show, but she thinks it’s Dorit. She says Daryl is the main alpha hero on TWD. No way, it’s Carol. We agree to disagree. Life is good. She’s even agreed to come to my parents’ cabin with me for Thanksgiving because her parents can’t come up for the holiday this year.
The truth is, I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t a part of my life or what it was like without her in my life and I don’t want to. If I lost her now it would be like losing one of my limbs. But I don’t know if she’s feeling the same way.
We haven’t discussed what this is going on with us. I’m afraid to verbalize it, afraid to say it out loud or I might ruin it. I came close to letting the l-word slip from my lips a couple of times when we were in the middle of making love. Yeah. It’s gone way beyond fucking. I swallowed the tender words before they came out because I don’t want to scare her away.
Even now, sprawled on the ice after taking a fall together when attempting a new side-by-side jump, we’re giggling and rolling into each other’s arms like two puppies in love.
“You totally tripped me, Bambi.”
“I don’t think so, jackass. You moved in the wrong direction.” She sniggles and throws some loose ice at my face.
It’s reminiscent of the time we collided the first day we saw each other. Instead of snarling at her like I did that day, I roll over on top of her and press my lips to hers.
“Wow. Someone’s ready to quit for the day.” She runs her hand along the hard ridge inside my pants. Even though we’re lying on cold ice, when I’m near her I’m in a constant state of heated rock hard pressure.
“We better leave before we melt the ice,” I tease and nip at her lip while grinding my hard shaft into her leg.
“Mmm, yeah. I love Saturday mornings. We can go back to my place and you can make me breakfast. I could go for French toast.”
“French toast? Not what I had in mind to eat.” I waggle my eyebrows.
“Tell you what, Andersen,” she says and pushes me off of her and stands up. “I’ll challenge you. If I win, you make me French toast.” She extends her hand to help me up.
“What if I win?” I grip her hand, pull myself up, and stand in front of her, nose to nose.
“If you win I’ll give you whatever you want to eat.” She flutters her lashes. Christ. My dick sat up and begged.
“You’re on, Hayward. What’s the challenge?” I slide away from her before I act on the urge to drop her skating pants and start licking her right on the spot.
“One on one. Whoever scores the first goal wins.” She gives me a devilish grin and does a scratch spin.
“Are you sure? You’re totally going to lose. Or is that what you had in mind?” I arch a brow.
“We’ll see, jackass. Go get hockey sticks and a puck because I can already taste that delicious French toast.”
***
“You ready, sweetheart?”
She looks so fucking adorable, her knees bent, hockey stick in hand, focusing intently on the puck between us and then on my face.
“Oh I’m ready, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
I figure I’ll be a gentleman and go easy on her, give her the first go at the puck. Big mistake. She skillfully slides it from her forehand to her backhand and then back to her forehand. I’m awestruck by her control. When I come back to my senses, I’m sure she’s going to go for open ice. I move toward the puck and she swipes it across to her backhand again. Holy fuck! She totally fakes me out with the 1-2-3 deke, skates up to the goal, and fli
cks it into the back of the net.
“I’ll warm up the car while you’re putting the equipment away.” She smirks and flips her ponytail back.
“What the hell, Bambi? Where’d you learn to play hockey like that?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention I was on an All-State hockey team when I was in high school?” she says as she glides off the ice.
“Uh, no. No you didn’t mention that,” I call after her. I should have guessed it with a dad like Duke Hayward. Damn. She totally hustled me.
No problem, though, because I have a feeling when we get back to her house we’re both going to get our rewards.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
Tracey
I’m nervous about meeting Dak’s parents. I don’t know what he’s told them about me, how he’s explained our relationship. I’m not exactly sure we even know how to define our relationship. Beyond saying it was exclusive for as long as our sexcapades last, he’s never called me his girlfriend. I never used the word boyfriend when referring to him either. He made it more than clear he doesn’t do girlfriends, so I don’t want to send him running if I use the word.
It’s the reason why I didn’t initially accept his invitation to his parents’ cabin. We’re just friends. Fuck buddy friends. I didn’t think it was my place to impose on his family Thanksgiving. My parents weren’t coming up for the holiday and I had decided to stay at school and get some work done on the long weekend. Dak kept insisting he wasn’t going to leave me alone for four whole days, like it was an eternity.
Cross Stroke Page 25