Two Skid Marks

by April Ryder

  I skated out into the stadium, ignoring the halftime dance event put on by the local high school and grabbed the first member of the men's hockey team that I saw.

  "Where is the dick?" I demanded.

  "Um…in my pants?" he said with an anxious yet hopeful look on his face.

  "I mean Rick. Where is Rick?"

  He pointed to another changing room across the stadium. "He's come straight from work. Said he needed a shower."

  "Good. He's alone."

  Satisfied with his answer I let him go. I raced toward the door of the changing room and skated straight in.

  "You're a dick!" I yelled at him. A very naked dick, I noted, but I didn't let it distract me from my anger.

  He didn't react, just continued drying himself with a towel.

  "Look at me while I'm yelling at you," I demanded and tugged on his biceps. Damn, now that was muscle.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Don't say what to me," I said, hands on hips, ready to let him have it. "You recorded me in the shower last week. That's…that's…"

  "Disgusting?" he offered.

  "Yeah that. And stealing my knickers. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

  "I didn't do it."

  "Like hell you didn't!"

  He put his hands on his hips and glowered. My eyes yo-yo'd between his—wow—and his stony face.

  "You are a gross, jerk-faced, idiot. And a pervert! Yes, a damn perv—mmph."

  The dick interrupted my angry tirade by smashing his lips against mine. I tried to yell at him some more but his tongue invaded my mouth and distracted me. Lots of things were. One rather large one was pressed against my hip. Another two were his hands as they rounded my butt. My eyes bugged out at his boldness. But I was still angry with him. Dammit, yes I was!

  I managed to break my mouth free and demanded, "What are you doing?"

  "Probably something I'll regret," he said as he pushed me backwards on my skates.

  The back of my butt bumped against the bench of wash basins. Before I could complain—let alone squeak—he lifted me up. My hand activated the sensor on one of the taps and water flowed into the sink beside me. I quickly moved it out of the way and glared up at Rick.

  "I'm still angry with you," I reminded him before I grabbed his ears and yanked his mouth back into place.

  "Good," he murmured against my lips, "I like it."

  "But I really am," I said and whacked him in the shoulder to prove it. Of course it didn't hurt him. I hit worse than a girl!

  I gasped when he ripped open my white shirt. Buttons pinged away never ever to be found again. He yanked it down, along with my bra and pinned my arms uselessly to my sides. My breasts spilled free from their underwire prison and begged for attention. Traitors!

  This—whatever this was—was already hands down better than anything Paul had ever tried. His repertoire had been severely limited.

  Rick played with my traitors. He tested their weight in his large hands and teased my nipples with his thumbs. All the while he kept my mouth busy—probably so I wouldn't yell at him again and call him names—with his dexterous tongue. I was already making a list of other places I wanted to put his appendage to work.

  "Oh God," I moaned as he turned his tongue to one of those above-mentioned places. My nipples stood no chance. I desperately wanted to touch him, but he had effectively restrained me. All I could do was wrap my legs around his waist, so I did exactly that.

  "You're still a dick," I said as he ground against me. "Oh God."

  "Make your mind up," he said.

  "What?" Rational thought started to pack up and leave. I was angry with him, right? Why?

  "Am I a dick or a god?" he asked right before his fingers found my red knickers and what they were inadequately protecting.

  I gritted my teeth together, determined not to moan again. He was a dick and we both knew it. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of—

  "Oh God."

  I wanted to smack the smug look off his face but I couldn't remember why I would ever want to do that when he pulled my knickers aside and twirled twice around my clit. My body jerked once and when I dug my skates into his buttocks. It was by reflex, not choice. He grunted at the unexpected pain but continued to tease me.

  "God you're wet," he murmured.

  I grinned as I smeared my kiss-swollen lips across his. "Now who's god?"

  "I am," he assured me and nipped at my lower lip. Again he proved it when he slipped a finger inside me.

  "I hate you."

  "Keep thinking that sweetheart."

  The torture continued. A second finger joined the first. This was insane. Anyone could walk in at any minute. The men had a game after—gaaaahhh.

  He made me go cross-eyed.

  "I don't have a condom," he confessed, the frustration in his voice evident. I knew exactly how he felt.

  My anger flared. "You're a dick and a tease! I really hate you," I said but didn't tell him to stop.

  He curled his fingers inside me and found a spot neither Paul nor Shawn had found. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean," I confessed. "Do whatever you want to me, just do it now."

  I didn't know it then—or did I?—but I was such an idiot.

  Rick correctly interpreted that to be permission to fuck my brains out. He yanked my knickers further aside, catching my engorged clit as it did. My hips lifted of their own volition in appreciation at the rough pleasure my clit received.

  Of all the times Rick could have chosen to be a gentleman, now was definitely not the right moment. He tried to slowly enter me, the exact opposite of what I wanted. I dug the back wheels of my skates into him and kicked him closer. Inside me.

  I cried out. That had hurt more than I'd expected but God did he feel good in there. I stretched to accommodate him and finally I looked up into his eyes and said the two words we both needed to hear.

  "Fuck me."

  Any control Rick might have left, fled. Something dangerous took him over as he fucked me like I'd never been before. He was rough, uninhibited, and wild as he pounded into me. I did my best to hold onto the taps to keep myself in place, but each slam home pushed me back.

  He growled, yanked me to the edge of the bench and held me in place. It turned out to be an even better angle for penetration. I wouldn't last much longer. Not with the way he was grinding his groin against my mound every time it made contact.

  Something powerful built up inside me. My anger was forgotten as lust and desire took its place. The pressure grew, starting from where we were joined and threatening to break free.

  In amongst it all I heard Rick angrily yell, "Get the fuck out!"

  My eyes darted around until they landed on my bestie's back. He was at the door shoving someone ahead of him outside. Him giving me the thumbs-up was the last thing I saw before the dam broke. Well, that wasn't quite true…

  "Look at me," Rick demanded and I obeyed.

  I saw the moment he reached climax and I was right there with him. My body convulsed as whatever it was inside me exploded. My insides turned out and I wailed as my brain overloaded my body with pleasure—most of it concentrated on the erratic pulsing between my legs. I fell right over the edge and into heaven.

  I was in shock. I had to be. Had Rick really fucked my brains out? I had no brain. How would I get it back? I blinked at the man in question and watched, open-mouthed, as he left for the loo. I hadn't noticed him withdraw, but now I felt strangely empty. Lost. Had we really done it? And why had it been so mind-blowing?

  Rick came back with a wad of toilet paper, wet it under the automated taps and wiped up the mess he had made. I flinched as the cold, damp loo paper touched my sensitive skin. He was being careful to not hurt me, I realised. What had happened to the angry man who had so aggressively taken me?

  He said something. I didn't know what, so he repeated it.

  "Halftime ends soon."

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times, working my jaw that now hurt for some unknown r
eason. What had he done to me?

  "What?" I croaked. Shell-shocked.

  "The match," he said slowly. "The Slammers? The B*tches?"

  Nothing he said made sense.

  Rick pressed his lips together in a grim smile. He seemed more irritated than anything, though. "You're at the roller derby. The whistle is about—"

  And the whistle did go. The shrill sound fired my synapses and reminded me where the hell I was. I was in a stadium and still had the second half of the match to get through. The B*tches had assured me that they no longer held a grudge against me, and I had just had sex with Rick.

  Somewhere during my return to reality he had pulled my bra straps back over my shoulders. I readjusted my breasts that were red with Rick's stubble rash and jumped off the bench. Rick grasped my elbow when I started to wobble. My legs were jelly. This would be difficult. I looked hopelessly down at my exposed curves. No buttons. I quickly tied the ends of my shirt together and hoped it would work. Flesh was still on display but that didn't matter. I was a tough derby chick and this was part of my alter-ego: Skid Marks. If people didn't like it, they could deal with it because I'd just had the best sex of my life and I didn't care. About them, not the sex. I didn't know what to think about the sex.

  We said nothing, nor did we make eye contact as he helped me to the door. I sensed he was about to say something but I never gave him the chance. I opened the door and skated into the stadium, intent on getting back to my team. Leaving him alone.

  We won the game. The victory felt hollow to me. After the violent first half, the second was a bit of a let down. Don't get me wrong, the B*tches were still their B*tchy selves, but the adrenaline and primal fury I had felt earlier never returned. Like it had been used up during halftime. On the plus side, Pretty wouldn't kill me.

  I was obligated to watch the men's inline hockey team. Adam would have thrown a hissy fit if I hadn't. If their game had been exciting, I didn't notice. My mind wasn't on it. It had vacated the building a while ago and was probably taking a holiday without me. I had no idea who had won.

  I stayed after the crowds left and waited for Adam. Others lingered, no doubt fans or family, waiting to catch the men as they came out of the changing room. I waited and watched from a distance as each player came out and was greeted by whoever was waiting for them.

  Then he walked out. Rick. My breath hitched.

  I didn't know if I should say anything. This was uncharted territory for me. What was the etiquette for after angry lust-filled wild sex in a bathroom?

  Whatever it was, I wouldn't find out. A petite Asian-looking woman called Rick's name. He smiled—I had no idea he could do that—when he saw her. It widened when he spied the little girl who held the woman's hand. He gave the woman a peck on the cheek before he picked up the girl and threw her in the air. I heard the girl giggle, then she said the words I had been dreading to hear. "Daddy!"

  But wait, it doesn't end there. No, I wish it did. What I had waiting for me at home was perhaps worse. I unlocked the door to my apartment two hours later, after having celebrated with one drink with the girls over the win. I remembered that lesson. Drinking is bad hmmkay?

  I shoved the door open with more force than usual and it bounced off the inside wall, springing back and almost hitting me in the face. It took me a full sixty seconds to realise something was wrong with my apartment. More like someone. And that someone was sitting on the couch looking up at me with a shocked expression on his poopy face.

  Gloria Gaynor was right. I should have changed that bloody lock.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Thank you reader

  I hope you enjoyed reading Two Skid Marks. I certainly loved writing it!

  If you did, please post a review and rating, as it will help others find this book and also enjoy themselves.

  Want more Hayley, Jake and Rick? Then say so in your review.

  The more people who want them, the more incentive I have to give you what you desire :)

  Don't forget to show One Skid Mark some love too.

  Three Skid Marks

  A fun BBW Roller Derby Romance - Part Three!

  Hayley's first derby would be enough to make anyone quit. The Wicked B*tches totally slammed the Selby Slammers—gunning for Hayley in particular—but the Slammers kicked just as much arse and eventually went on to win! But that's nothing compared to what happened during half-time between her and Rick the Dick in the men's changing room. Had he really taken her to heaven and back or dragged her down to hell?

  More hilarity ensues as Hayley reels from the aftermath and regret of a passionate quickie and Paul the Fool's return to her apartment—and life—in the lead up to the Auckland Roller Derby semifinals.

  "I've forgiven Adam—for now—as I have a more evil and devious man to kill. So evil and devious that he had me believing there were better men than Paul out there. But guess what? There aren't. Maybe I should introduce him to Paul and they can…they can…um, they can happily cheat together! Yeah, that's what they can do. Damn cheaters!"

  — Hayley

  About the Author

  Rock star, catwalk model, ventriloquist—April Ryder is none of these things. She is, however, a BBW housewife looking to spice up her sex life with her hardworking and supportive BBM (is that even a thing?) husband. April enjoys living on the beach and plans to further explore her sexy, sensual side writing romance.

  Also by April Ryder

  A Very Skid Marks Christmas

  This Christmas Skid Marks

  Last Christmas Skid Marks

  Lady Godiva

  Biker Babe

  Grim Reaper

  Third Wheel

  Highway Heaven

  Lady Godiva 1

  Skid Marks

  One Skid Mark

  Two Skid Marks

  Three Skid Marks

  Four Skid Marks

  Skid Marks and the Selby Slammers

  Watch for more at April Ryder’s site.