Hooked: A Hockey Romance

by June Winters

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, so … you can sit this one out.” She smiled at me and waved, her hot-pink nails flashing. “Buh bye!”

  Stunned, I could only shake my head and mutter. “Oh, er, alright …”

  I reached for the door knob, but it twisted the second I put my hand on it. I jumped back as the door opened up.

  And there stood Hunter Rockwell. Rippling muscles bulged against his tight, black athletic under-shirt. From the waist down, he wore hockey gear—the puffy pants, the leg pads and socks, the skates.

  Hunter's eyes locked on mine for the briefest of seconds, but it might as well have been an eternity. The essence of him raced through my brain in a flash like lightning: his salty smell. His demanding lips, taking mine. The electric taste of his tongue slithering against my own. His long, rock-hard bulge, sliding between my legs. The sexy grunts and groans of his self-pleasure over the phone: “I'm cumming!”

  It all sizzled through my brain in a single flash.

  Hunter broke eye contact, stepped past me and into the dressing room. With his skates on, he loomed even taller over me. “Hey girls. What's going on?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Madison answered. “We were just talking about what a great game you played last night.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled and folded his muscular arms. “Well, I just came to say hi and make sure everyone's here. The camera crew's already set up on the ice, so they want us out there ASAP.” Without looking my way, he pointed a thumb at me. “So you better crack the whip and make sure rookie over here gets dressed in a hurry.”

  Madison smiled cheerily. “I was just telling her that, Hunter.”

  “Great. See you on the ice, ladies.”

  Hunter turned around, winked at me, and left.

  Once the door had shut after him, Madison rolled her eyes at me. “You are so lucky, by the way. You know that? Go ahead. Get dressed, because now he expects you out there …”

  An outfit was hanging for me in my stall. I grabbed it and quietly changed into it.

  My phone chimed as a text from Hunter arrived. I quickly peeked at it, not wanting anyone to catch me: “I just had to see you. Love that you did your hair like that again. You do that for me?”

  I answered. “Glad you noticed.”

  “Wow … so how about dinner at 6 tonight? I'll pick you up at your place.”

  Hell, why not? I tried to hide my smile from the girls as I answered him.

  “Sounds good, captain.”

  ***

  I stood by the bench with Cora, watching the action at center ice, as Madison struggled with the right way to hold a hockey stick.

  “Do you hold it like this?” she giggled, holding the stick completely backwards. She turned the stick around, but still somehow held it all wrong. “Or do I hold it like this?”

  The director of the commercial, growing impatient, waved his arms in the air. “Nooo!”

  “Yikes.” Cora sighed. “What can you say? She wants to be the star of the show.”

  Hunter and his teammates fooled around, blasted slap shots at the empty net, pushed and shoved each other. Normal hockey player behavior while they waited. But every now and then, Hunter skated by us, smiling at me and running his eyes all over my body. His greedy gaze made me shiver with anticipation.

  But, like I said earlier. Someone always notices those tiny things, and Cora figured it out quick.

  “Damn,” she elbowed me. “You really did get him worked up, didn't you?”

  “Oh, I dunno,” I said with a long sigh.

  “Uh oh, Honor. That wasn't a sigh of hopelessness or futility—that was a love-sick sigh.”

  My jaw fell with mock outrage. “No it wasn't!”

  “Totally was.” Cora's eyes probed mine. “So, did something else happen between you two?”

  I reared back. “What do you mean, 'something else?'”

  “You know. Since you made out last week. Anything else happen since then?”

  I almost needed an ice scraper to get my chin off the floor. “How—who told you that?”

  Cora rolled her eyes. “You did. Remember? The night we got trashed and watched the game?”

  I lowered my voice. “I told you that?”

  “Sure did!”

  “Oh lord. Please don't tell anyone.”

  “I told you, I won't! Remember what I said earlier? I avoid the gossip. Well, the gossip comes to me, because people trust me with their drama. But I don't spread it. I don't get in the middle of drama, you know?”

  “Thank you Cora … I trust you.”

  Madison suddenly called out for Hunter. “Oh, Huuu~nter! Come here and show me how to hold this hockey stick the right way!”

  Hunter dropped his shoulders and slowly glided over to her, like a kid who just got called in early from recess. Madison fumbled with her stick, turning it around and around. “Hunter, I can't … I just … hm!”

  “You really think she can't figure out how to hold that stick?” I asked.

  Cora gave me a look. “She's not stupid. She knows what she's doing, and it's like I said: she wants to be the star of the show.”

  Sagely, Cora nodded, directing my attention over to Madison.

  Madison was busily roping Hunter into giving her a hands-on lesson in holding a hockey stick. She pressed her rear into his front, grabbed his hands and tried to make him drape his arms all over her body.

  Hunter kept trying to break free, but Madison wasn't having it. She just chased after him, pressing herself into him, planting her booty right into his crotch.

  And even though I knew Hunter wasn't into it, a jealous spark set off a wildfire inside me.

  Cora saw that, too. “You two do have something going, don't you?”

  I darted my gaze away from Hunter and Madison. “No …?”

  “Hon~or. Girl. You're a bad liar.”

  At center ice, the director had finally passed the point of frustration. “For God's sake! This is getting ridiculous! Is there another girl who can hold a damned hockey stick?”

  “Yes!” Hunter answered, pointing at me. “The rookie. She can.”

  Madison's body froze, and she finally let Hunter escape her. She stared daggers into me instead.

  Gulp.

  “Uh oh,” Cora chuckled.

  ***

  The shot they wanted was easy enough: all I had to do was put the puck between the Blizzard defenseman's legs, skate around him, and then shoot the puck over the goalie's glove.

  Which might sound difficult, but then you have to realize that the defenseman is standing with his legs spread wide apart, and the goalie is doing everything in his power to not catch the puck.

  I got it on the first try, much to the director's relief—“oh thank God,” as he put it—but we did a few more takes so they'd have more to chose from.

  The Blizzard boys, however, loved it. They roared with laughter and shouted:

  “She can shoot!”

  “She's got a harder shot than you, Iggy!”

  “I think the goalie actually tried to save that one!”

  And if I thought I had a problem with Madison before? I could only imagine how pissed she was going to be now … because all the players were paying attention to me.

  “Okay, one more shot to film,” the director said. “We need a body check scene. I want captain Hunter, here, to get smashed into the boards by one of the ladies. Ladies? Any volunteers?”

  I was not about to raise my hand.

  Madison spoke up first. “Well, how about Honor? She did such a great job earlier.”

  Trap! Obvious trap!

  “N-no,” I protested.

  But everyone else was in favor of it. The players broke into a cheer, apparently tickled by the idea of me taking out their captain.

  “Yeah, Honor would be great,” Hunter said, smiling at me.

  “Hear that?” Madison asked with a fake pep. She pushed me from behind, and I went gliding forward. “You'd be great with Hunter, Honor.”<
br />
  Oh no.

  “Perfect. Honor it is, then,” the director said.

  The director made Hunter stand with his back near the boards. He told me to skate towards Hunter as fast as I could and push my weight into him to 'crush' him into the boards. Camera magic, he told me, would make the hit seem more violent.

  So I did. I skated towards Hunter, picking up speed, threw my weight into him, and the two of us went into the glass.

  “Oof,” Hunter groaned, sounding surprised, as I hit him as hard as I could.

  But then Hunter lost his footing and toppled over backwards, spilling to the ice—and I went tumbling after him. Hunter landed on his back, and broke my fall as I landed right on top of him.

  “HAHAHA!” the players roared. “SHE CRUSHED HIM!”

  We laughed, too, lying face-to-face. Hunter's great chest heaved with laughter underneath me. He brushed my hair out of his face. And our eyes locked. Laughter boomed, echoing in the empty rink, but for us, it might as well have not existed. Hunter and I gazed into each other's eyes, searching deeply, as if we could see inside each other's souls.

  Hunter stole a peek at my lips, and his lip quivered with desire. A magnetic attraction drew me towards him. Slowly, surely, I lowered my face to his before—

  Oh my God what am I doing!

  I sat up in a hurry, a fire rushing to my cheeks, and I'm sure it showed. Some of the players were still laughing, but more than a few were now staring at Hunter and I with wide-eyed expressions.

  “Whoa, man,” a Blizzard defenseman mumbled. “Is it just me, or was that about to get hot?”

  “Definitely not you,” a teammate answered him. “That shit almost got me hard.”

  “Jesus,” another player added. “What kinda commercial are we shooting here, anyway?”

  The director cleared his throat—he also sounded amused. “Well, it'd be hard to match the intensity of the first take, wouldn't it? I think that'll do today, boys and girls.”

  Madison was the first to storm off the ice.

  Cora joined me by my side. “Yow, Honor. Yow.”

  “I know.”

  “You ready to face her wrath?”

  I sighed. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

  I took a peek over my shoulder. Hunter had climbed to one knee. His teammates slapped at him, pounded his shoulder, messed with his hair—like a bunch of high school guys when they find out their buddy has a crush. But Hunter barely noticed. Serenely, he stared and watched me leave the ice.

  We are soooo busted. We couldn't keep this hidden at all.

  Back in the dressing room, Madison scowled at me as I entered. “You know what's funny about you two acting all flirty and cutesy-wutesy with each other? I know I said I wanted to hire you because of your skating, but that was a lie, Honor. I hired you because, never in a million years, did I think Hunter would actually go for a girl like you.”

  She waved her index finger up and down my body to let me know just what she meant by that.

  Stunned gasps fizzed throughout the room. My heart and breathing began to race—but I was the type of person who chose flight, not fight, when adrenaline rushed through my blood. Besides, I knew she was only lashing out and trying to make me feel shitty. So I stayed quiet. I didn't sprint across the room and throw punches or grab her hair like a stronger woman might have.

  Madison saw my weakness and twisted the dagger. “Guess I was wrong, though. Hunter really will fuck anything that moves.”

  “Alright,” Cora interjected. “That's enough, Madison.”

  “He'll never love you,” Madison continued.

  “Madison!” Cora yelled. “Stop already!”

  Chapter 16:

  Reservations

  Honor

  Later that evening, my phone chimed with Hunter's text. “I'm on my way.”

  And that was my cue to stop the endless wardrobe changes and worrying over how I looked. It wasn't easy to dress for a date with a sharply dressed millionaire and professional athlete who could get any woman he wanted. I had to look like I belonged on his arm.

  I waited in the living room for him nervously. My heels clicked on the hardwood floor as I paced back and forth, my head swimming with doubts and worries. Because as excited as I was to see Hunter, Madison had sure done her best to poison this night for me.

  A few minutes later, the familiar growl of a powerful sports car announced Hunter's arrival.

  Knock knock.

  At my door was Hunter Rockwell, dressed in another one of his exquisite suits.

  “Honor. Wow,” he breathed, looking tongue-tied.

  “Hi Hunter! Come in!”

  He stepped in and kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “You're gorgeous.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, unsure. Madison's toxic tongue had left me shell-shocked.

  “God, yes.”

  “You look handsome yourself, Hunter.”

  His eyes fell and stole a glimpse at my breasts. “Wow.” Hunter pressed me up against the wall, his hands pawing at my waist, his eyes slaving at the sight of my cleavage. “Honor …”

  “Hunter!” I lifted his chin and made him look me in the eye. But secretly? I liked the attention. I'd worn this dress for that reason, after all.

  Hunter shook his head, as if to regain himself, and took a step back. He turned back into the gentleman I wanted him to be—even though I could tell that was the last thing on his mind right now.

  “So, we've got a 6:00 reservation at Palace Arms,” he said. “You'll love it there. But we should probably get going.”

  “That sounds great,” I said.

  But I didn't want him to leave me just yet. I ran my hand down his perfectly-pressed shirt, gliding my fingers over the mountains of muscle that lay just beneath.

  Hunter pressed himself against me, his breath hot and deep on my neck.

  “I've been thinking about you all day, Honor,” he growled into my ear. “Having you on top of me on the ice? In front of everybody? That was so hot … I wanted to kiss you.”

  “That'd be bad,” I whimpered. “Very bad.”

  “You got me all worked up, babe.”

  “Hm,” I giggled. “Show me what you wanted to do.”

  He cupped my face delicately with his big hands and gave me a deep kiss. This time, I wasn't wrought with guilt—instead I let myself enjoy the velvety caress of his lips. I gave him my mouth, my tongue. Each kiss was a delicious fuck you to Madison, and we feasted on the forbidden tension the two of us had been building in secret.

  But with a quick breath and a moment of clarity, I managed to press my palms into Hunter's chest and force him back.

  “We have dinner reservations,” I gasped. I hiked up the arm of his suit jacket and showed him his watch. “See? We're going to be late.”

  But Hunter was after me again, his hands sliding hungrily up and down my sides and lightly traipsing over my waist. “I want you so goddamned bad, Honor.”

  His words were like a spell—and I couldn't resist. I reached between his legs and discovered that he was already growing hard. I grabbed his arousal through his trousers and massaged him.

  “Oh, Honor …” Hunter grew stiffer from my touch, but the rest of him went weak.

  “You like that?” I asked, giving him my eyes. I gripped him tighter and tugged harder.

  “God, yeah.” Hunter swallowed tensely. “Where's your roommates?”

  “Out,” I replied. “But …” The reservation!

  Hunter peeled me off the wall and led me to my bedroom.

  Gulp.

  ***

  Hunter gingerly worked the zipper of my dress, gently pulled it off my shoulder, and the silk item dropped to my ankles with a soft swish.

  We're really doing this, I thought. I wasn't sure it was the right time—but I was powerless to stop him. Some mix of Madison's comments, and seeing Hunter Rockwell at my doorstep, so handsome and eager and awed and genuinely happy to see me, pushed me over the edge.

  Hunter sp
un me around and greedily explored my body with his hulking hands. He cupped my bare breasts and sucked at my nipples, one and then the other, as if he couldn't make up his mind which he wanted between his lips more.

  “I love your titties,” he growled, his features darkened with lust, his hands feverishly groping and squeezing at my bare flesh.

  “You're so wild,” I squealed.

  “I can't help it,” he said, pent-up frustration oozing from his gravelly voice. “I've been thinking about you for so long.”

  Backwards we moved, a slow retreat for my bed.

  “You haven't even known me that long,” I teased, a playful finger held to his mouth.

  “Long enough,” he countered, tossing me to the mattress like a rag-doll.

  Hastily, he wrestled off his suit jacket, his tie, his belt, while he admired me in nothing but my panties. “You're so goddamn sexy, Honor.”

  He threw off his undershirt and trousers. His body was a sculpture of hard muscle, angular lines, and chiseled crevices. The perfection of man's form—and something deep, something carnal, inside me demanded that I have him.

  “I want you,” I said softly—and was pleased at how those words rang true. I'd never wanted anyone more than I wanted him in that moment. Not even close. “I want you, Hunter.”

  Hunter pounced on the bed, cratering it with his solid weight, and pressed himself into me. Our mouths met again, stoking the fire in my heart and between my legs.

  His hand wandered lower and found the crotch of my panties.

  “Oh,” I sighed as his talented fingers stroked my heat.

  Hunter's need for me was thick, urgent, animalistic. His kisses searched me deeper, and his hands worked me into a wet, moaning mess. Under the snug weight of his mass, I opened for him like a blossoming flower.

  If this was a bad idea …? It was the best bad idea I'd ever had.

  Hunter sat up in a hurry, drunk on desire. He hooked his fingers under my panties and dragged the intimates down my legs, tossing them aside. A small thrill rushed over me when I eyed my discarded panties—a rolled-up ball of lace, abandoned on the floor.

  I was bare for him now. Hunter lowered himself between my thighs, spread my legs and began to lick. He'd gotten me to this point in a hurry—but now Hunter seemed hell-bent on savoring me. Long, slow, indulgent tongue-strokes tortured my folds.