Page 53 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

I look at my watch. "It’s not that late."

"Yeah, but I figured you would want to go home and relax.”

“I was thinking maybe we could grab some ice cream."

"Ice cream?" She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Like, ice cream, ice cream or eating sundaes off of each other?"

"I mean, if you're offering to let me eat a sundae off of you, I’m not going to say no. If you'd like to eat a sundae off of me, then no. If we're going for ice cream, I want real ice cream. In a waffle cone. Three scoops. And I’ll pay," I say, grinning at her. "I know how you like the men to pay."

"Well, I only have them pay when it's a date. When it's not a date, I pay for myself."

"Maybe I want it to be a date," I say, and immediately, I feel something in me tighten. Why did I say that? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.

"No, you don’t," she says, laughing and shaking her head. "But I’ll still let you pay."

We walk down the street, and I hold her hand. It’s nice being with her like this—just innocent and having fun. I wonder if this is what my life would've been like if I hadn’t become a world-famous hockey player. If I didn’t have women after me for so many other reasons.

"This feels nice," I say.

"It feels okay." She lets go of my hand. "It’s kind of sweating now, and that's gross." She wipes her hand on her jeans. "So, we are going to go for ice cream, and then what?"

"Then you're going to go home and sleep and dream of me."

"What?" She wrinkles her nose. "You want me to go home? What, with you?"

"No. I am going to be respectful tonight."

"What do you mean you're going to be respectful?"

"I know you're not that kind of girl, Erica. And as much as I would love for you to be that kind of girl, you’re not."

"What do you mean, I'm not that kind of girl? Your cock was literally in my mouth just a couple of days ago, and I absolutely loved it."

"But that doesn’t mean every time I see you, it has to be in your mouth."

"I mean, if you didn’t think I was good…" she says, pouting.

"I thought it was amazing," I say, pulling her towards me and kissing her again. "But remember, this is a casual thing, and I don’t want to take advantage of that. You’re looking for your soulmate. And if you’re giving me blow jobs every night, it’s going to be very hard for you to find that."

"Yeah, you’re right. Plus, seven and a half inches isn’t really that big. I’m kind of looking for a nine-inch guy."

I roll my eyes. "Whatever."

I try not to feel annoyed at her words—not because I consider my dick length to be small, but because I don’t want to think about another man’s dick in her hands or in her mouth or anywhere else.

"Come on, let’s get some ice cream, and you can tell me all the things you would do on your perfect date with your perfect man."

"Why would you want to listen to that?"

"I don’t know. Maybe because it’s fun for me to be around someone who lives their life in fairytales. It’s better than watching a Disney movie."

"I could be a Disney princess if I wanted to be." She grins.

“Yeah? If you were one, I would definitely go to Disney World.”

“Why?”

“Because how many men can say they had it off with a princess?”