Defying Gravity: An Ice Tigers Hockey Novel

by Isabella Cassazza

“More. Please. More.” Danny squirms against my hands, but I keep my strokes light, barely touching him. I’m driving him crazy, and I know it. His orgasm is going to be epic. I love the power I have over him. And I love that he lets me do as I please.

  “Ty.” His voice is strained now. Looking up, I take in his open mouth and half-shut eyes. Without further warning, I take his dick deep in my mouth and suck it.

  “Fuck,” he screams, grabbing my head as his knees buckle. I suck him again greedily, taking his dick even farther down my throat. Danny moans and pulls my hair while his cock pulsates uncontrollably in my mouth. I keep working him, and his groans mingle with the popping sound his dick creates in my wet mouth as it slides in and out with increasing speed. He thrusts his hips forward, and I have to push him back with my hand to avoid him sliding too far down my throat. There’s only so much I can take. I suck again and let my tongue whirl around his shaft, and he shoots his load down my throat. I swallow the salty fluid, sucking him until he has nothing left while his hands caress my head.

  He shudders again when I lick him clean and holds his hands tightly pressed on my head, practically leaning onto me. I take in his flushed face and relaxed features. He’s beautiful. And I won’t let him go. I smile at him when he finally opens his eyes.

  “Come here.” He pulls me up against him, and I lean in for a lingering kiss. Time stands still again, and the world outside with all its problems ceases to exist.

  With a sigh, I finally pull away. A glance at the kitchen clock confirms what I’ve already suspected. “I need to shower and prepare for tonight. Go to bed and sleep.”

  “Want me to return the favor before?” He stares down at my erection.

  “Not before the game. But I’m going to collect tonight.” I place a soft kiss on his forehead and shove him in the direction of the master bedroom.

  He smiles shyly at me. “Tonight, then.”

  So much for an easygoing morning. I’ll have to rush now. But for Danny, I can do that.

  Nothing has been resolved yet, but we’ll make this work. No matter what.

  Chapter Two

  Lily

  “Well, at least someone is having fun here.” I lift my head from the ground and brush away the sand from my thighs while Ryan laughs, holding his stomach.

  “Sorry.” He’s clenching his teeth, trying not to laugh out loud. “You should have seen yourself. You looked like a little monkey holding on to a tree.”

  I can only imagine how that must have looked. And all for nothing. I still fell off. Flying through the air. Over the jump. Alone. Without the horse. Again.

  As it happened so many other times before in the previous weeks. The situation is frustrating and, unfortunately, not getting any better with this particular horse, despite the hard work and the countless hours of training. But I’m as stubborn as the stallion, and I’m not ready to give up.

  “You okay, though?” Ryan’s expression is serious again.

  “Fine,” I reply automatically. I try to smile at him but can’t quite overcome the disappointment and the pain in my lower back.

  “Let’s try it one more time.” He helps me up and grabs Cornado’s reins, leading him toward me. I sigh, but I know he’s right. It’s always best to finish a lesson with a positive experience—for both horse and rider.

  I mount again and collect the reins, concentrating on the task ahead. “Don’t leave him alone.” Ryan’s words from the beginning of the lesson replay in my mind as I approach the fence. I exhale and keep the reins steady, giving Cornado the assurance he needs, and he jumps as if the first time never happened.

  Young horses are comparable to little children. They test their limits, and the stallion is testing me. I must be firm and yet subtle to bring out the best in him. He has it in him to be a championship contender, but he’ll need our help and time to develop his full potential.

  “Enough for today.” Ryan walks toward me. “Good job. Don’t look so serious, Lily. Smile. You’re doing well. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We’ve all fallen off and failed. Show me a rider who hasn’t.”

  “I know.” But I’m not convinced. Lately all I seem to do is fall off. I’m lucky I haven’t broken anything yet. Cornado is the biggest challenge in my riding career so far.

  “Let him stretch a little more, and after he’s been taken care of, you go enjoy your evening. You’re going to the hockey game, right?”

  “Yes, I’m going with Jess and Nick. Thanks for the tickets.” This time I manage to smile.

  “No problem. A friend of mine is part of the organization. Like I said, enjoy your evening. Hockey is an exciting game. You’ll love the experience. Don’t think horses tonight. Take tonight off. Tomorrow we’ll work on distances again.” Ryan waves goodbye and leaves the arena.

  I pet Cornado’s strong neck as I watch him go. “Come on, big guy. Just some trot and you can enjoy your mash afterward.”

  He snorts but complies. The promise of his favorite food always motivates him.

  Maybe I’m too hard on myself. If Ryan is happy with our progress, I should be satisfied too. I have to stop overthinking. It’s one of my many weaknesses—the one keeping me awake at night. Ryan is right. I need a diversion, and spending time away from the stable might be the right thing for me to do.

  * * *

  Five hours later, I shift uncomfortably in my seat. It turns out I enjoy hockey. It’s a fast-paced and exciting game. So fast-paced that I have a hard time following the action. The puck flies at lightning speed over the ice, and I lose sight of it from time to time.

  It would have been a perfect evening, if it weren’t for my back. Thank you, Cornado! Not. My back is killing me. I’m tense and stiff, and the only things I can think of are a hot shower, Advil, and sleep. Fortunately, only three minutes remain in the final period.

  Everyone is standing up and cheering loudly for their team. I sigh as I get up because it gives my aching back a break.

  Both teams have scored two goals each and are fighting desperately to score the game-deciding goal, and the atmosphere is heated.

  I watch, fascinated as one of the Boston players gets hold of the puck and sprints toward the opponents’ goal. He hits the puck hard, and before I realize what has happened, the audience around me erupts with applause and cheers. A horn blows and music blasts over the sound system. Then the stadium announcer yells, “Goal for the Boston Ice Tigers. Goal by number 25, Tyler…”

  “Wolfe,” the audience screams back.

  “Assist by number 10, Julian…”

  “Smith.”

  At the same time, headshots of the two players appear on the big screen in the middle of the arena.

  “He’s so hot.” Jess turns to me.

  “Who?”

  “Tyler Wolfe, of course. Are you blind?”

  Well yeah, I agree with her. He is kind of hot, judging from his headshot. With his big brown eyes, thick dark brown hair, chiseled cheekbones, and a cut jawline, he looks more like a model than a hockey player. No wonder some of the female fans are going crazy over him. Several women around the arena hold up signs inviting him for “after-game action.” One girl even threw what appears to be a red thong on the ice. Another one is holding up a sign with her number on it and a very blunt invitation to spend the night with her.

  Am I the only one feeling embarrassed for them? I’d never throw myself at a man, no matter how attractive. Maybe that’s the reason why I haven’t been out with anyone in quite some time—that and my last disastrous relationship.

  Not wanting to dwell on the past, I take my attention back to the ice.

  The team is still celebrating, and Tyler Wolfe doesn’t seem to mind the attention too much. He picks up the panties and hands them over to a younger-looking teammate. The Boston players howl when the young guy lifts them in the air and waves them around.

  Men. I’ll probably never fully understand them.

  Not much happens in the remaining seconds of the game, and the Ice Tige
rs win.

  “That was awesome,” Jess yells into my ear, trying to out-scream the cheering crowd. “Let’s go to the skybox Ryan talked about and grab something to eat.” She doesn’t wait for Nick or me to respond before heading toward the VIP skybox.

  Half an hour later, we’ve had a taste of pretty much everything the VIP catering has to offer. Ryan’s involvement with the team has treated us to filet mignon burgers and smoked salmon pikelets.

  “I’m so full.” Jess pats her belly.

  “Me too.” I’m stuffed, but the calories were totally worth it.

  “Let’s go for some drinks in the city.” Jess looks expectantly at Nick and me.

  I shake my head. “I’m out. My back needs some rest. But you two should go ahead.”

  Nick starts to say something, but I’m faster. “Don’t say anything about me leaving alone. Why don’t you let me take the car, and you two call an Uber later?”

  Nick is always protective of us. Being the oldest in our group of assistant trainers, he takes care of the others, whether we want him to or not. But I know he has a crush on Jess, and she seems to like him too. Time alone might help them to figure things out.

  “You sure?” He lifts his eyebrow.

  “Hand me the keys already.” I hold my hand out to collect them.

  He hesitates but then gives me the key, and I quickly wave goodbye before he changes his mind and make my way down to the VIP parking lot.

  Thanks to Ryan’s connections, my first hockey game has been a VIP experience altogether. While the game was exciting, and the food was out of this world, I’m especially grateful for the separated parking lot. It’s well-lit and easy to navigate. I have a bit of a history with big parking lots and lost cars. Once I searched for my car for over an hour after I forgot where I parked. Not a fun experience at all. Since then I try to avoid big parking lots, or if that’s not possible, I take a photograph of the unit I parked in.

  I pull my coat closer around me when the chilly October air hits me. While the temperature is still pleasant when the sun is out, one can tell winter is approaching during nighttime. Making my way to the first line of cars, I’m suddenly startled by voices coming from behind me.

  “You promised we’d talk again, Tyler, and now you’ve already agreed to participate?” an angry male voice says with barely contained rage.

  “Danny, please listen to me. I didn’t exactly agree, but I couldn’t think of a reason to give them why I don’t want to, and now they assume I’m okay with participating,” another male voice, deeper than the first one, tries to soothe.

  “Whatever.”

  I hear footsteps approach from behind me and walk faster. This is awkward. I don’t want to trespass on other peoples’ personal lives. Their private conversation isn’t any of my business.

  I spot my car and am turning to my left when I detect a glimmer coming from the side. Something’s reflecting the streetlights. Hang on. That’s a camera. One that’s being pushed through the fence surrounding the VIP parking space, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s being pointed at the two men arguing behind me.

  I turn around and take a closer look at them. They are both young, perhaps in their mid- to late twenties. The one in front is tall and of athletic build. He has light brown hair and is wearing dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket. He also has a furious look on his face and is stomping toward a car in the back of the parking lot. The one following has broad shoulders and a muscular build. He has a big bag slumped over his shoulder and is wearing black jeans and a coat with the Ice Tiger’s logo. He pauses for a second and lowers his head, rubbing his forehead. When he looks up again, he has a desperate look on his face.

  Why does he look vaguely familiar? Have I met him before?

  Suddenly it clicks. The second man is the hockey player who shot the goal tonight. It’s Tyler Wolfe! And the other one? Holy crap, is that his boyfriend? The way they were interacting and the bits of the conversation I’ve picked up, combined with the desperate look on Tyler’s face when Danny stomped away, it has to be like that. They’re a couple. And isn’t it ironic? The hockey player all the women swoon over is gay? For real? But then it can’t be openly so. And if that’s the case, the paparazzo behind the fence is about to take the photo of his lifetime.

  My head is spinning now. Even with my limited knowledge of hockey, I assume there are no openly gay players. There aren’t in any major sport as far as I know.

  So far, the photographer, hopefully, only has shots of what could be explained as two friends arguing, and he is too far away to have picked up any of the conversation, but Tyler has stepped closer now to his slightly smaller boyfriend and has turned him around, trying to calm him down.

  He’s bending down. Oh no, he’s about to kiss him. I panic. I have to stop them. I can’t let this happen. Not again.

  No one deserves to have their private life displayed in tabloids, but for those two it’ll be hell. I can’t let that happen.

  Without thinking my actions through, I run toward them and yell, “Tyler, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought we were supposed to meet inside.”

  Tyler turns on his heel and raises both eyebrows. Gosh, he must think I’m a crazy fan.

  I’ve accomplished my aim though—he hasn’t kissed Danny. I come to an abrupt halt in front of him. This has to be the most awkward situation I’ve ever had to face in my life. Stepping on my toes, I hug him and whisper in his ear, “Play along. There’s a photographer behind the fence. He’s seen most of your fight, but I don’t think he’s heard anything yet.”

  I hope he can hear me. Even standing on my toes, I barely reach his shoulders. I’m only 5’2, and he’s probably something around 6’2. He’s hugging me tightly, and I can feel the muscles in his back tense where I touch him. He turns his head down and whispers, “Thanks for stepping in. Now play along with me.”

  He doesn’t give me time to contemplate his words. As he releases me out of his tight grip, I plop back on my feet again. For a split second, I stare at his broad chest before he cups my chin with one hand and lifts it gently. His chocolate-brown eyes stare directly into mine.

  “I’m sorry you had to wait, darling,” he says, a little louder than necessary. Before I realize what he intends to do, Tyler bends down and kisses me. For real.

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  His big, calloused hands on my chin have already made my skin tingle, but his soft, full lips moving upon mine send an electric shock down my body. If a soft and rather chaste kiss can make me breathless and weak, what would a passionate kiss from this man do to me? It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced—a kiss from a gay man. My ex-boyfriend truly knew nothing about kissing. How pathetic is that? I don’t know if I should cry or laugh.

  Enjoy it while it lasts, a little voice in my head whispers. And that’s precisely what I do. Rather than overthinking what’s happening to me, I concentrate on what I feel.

  While one of his hands is still holding my chin, the other one is now resting on my upper back, pulling me close. Heat pools where he touches me, and a warm feeling spreads through me. And he’s still not even using his tongue.

  Later I’ll think about my reaction to him, but for now, I play along.

  Chapter Three

  Danny

  There are situations in life when time stands still, when you're frozen in place while life seems to go on without you. I’m experiencing one of those right now. Add to that a kind of out-of-body experience, where you seem to stand beside yourself and observe an obscure and, at the same time, comical situation, and you experience what I’m going through.

  My absolutely gay—always has been and, so I thought, always will be—boyfriend is kissing a woman. A rather young-looking one. A gorgeous one. But still a woman! As in female!

  And he seems to be into her. Looking at her like a love-sick puppy, he bends down and captures her lips in a gentle kiss. His eyes are closed, and from the look of it, he enjoys what he’s doing right
now. They look as if they’re filming a cheesy chick flick.

  What the fuck? Is this some joke? Is this his revenge? I was pretty hard on him yesterday, threatening to leave him, but this takes things way too far.

  At least he has taste, I’ll give him that. She is extremely beautiful. Her petite frame is pressed against Tyler’s broad chest. His big hand is entangled in her pitch-black hair, and he’s holding her tightly. But she’s still a woman!

  And Tyler is gay. Or was gay and is bi now? What the hell is happening here?

  He must know her. Why else would he be kissing her? Has this been going on behind my back? Is he having an affair with her? Why the hell is he kissing her right in front of me? Is this why he let me sleep alone? Am I being replaced? Who is this chick?

  My head is spinning, but my body remains frozen in place. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch? Does he expect me to join the action?

  Enough is enough. I deserve an explanation, and I want one right now. I ball my fists and take a deep breath, but when I open my mouth to shout, “What the fuck is going on here?” Tyler lifts his head and looks over to me, silencing me with his gaze before he turns his attention back to the anonymous girl and says, “Let’s go home, darling.”

  If he calls her “darling” once more, I’m punching him in the face.

  With his hand still on her back, he leads her to the passenger seat of his truck and all gentleman-like opens the door for her. Great, now “darling” gets my seat too.

  I’m still too stunned to do anything but remain frozen in place when Ty’s voice startles me. “Danny, you coming?”

  I shoot what I hope is a murderous glance in his direction but climb into the car. What else am I going to do? Take the bus to my own home? Does he want alone time with her? How long has this been going on?

  I’ve hardly thrown the door shut when Tyler meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Before you say anything, Dan, there was a pap in the parking lot. This young lady saw him and saved our sorry asses.”

  What? A paparazzo? Where? I didn’t pay any attention to our surroundings, too angry at Ty for not setting his team owner straight about the Romkey participation.