I fumble at the zipper of his ripped black jeans.
“You better suck on that candy cane.”
I moan as he shoves me off of him.
“Your pussy still wants it, doesn’t it?” His eyes are heavy lidded in the dim light. He looks at me—sugar spread all over my face, on my hands and knees on my bed. He leans in and kisses me, licking the sticky red off my mouth.
“You want me to fuck you like this with your daddy downstairs?”
“Uh-huh.”
Two fingers press on my swollen clit, rub fast like he handles the puck. Then I’m coming, knees trembling, while his teeth sink into my tender nipple.
“Fuck me. Stop teasing,” I slur.
“Spread your legs.”
I feel his fingers spread me. All I want is that cock.
He picks up the candy cane off the bed next to me. The candy cane plunges in my pussy. I groan as it slides in me.
“You really do want a cock, don’t you?”
He sucks my tits through the stained chemise as his fingers work in my pussy, my cunt clenching on the thick candy cane. He uses the curve of it to work inside of me, his other hand between my legs making me come again, my hips jerking against him. He pulls out the candy cane and licks it off.
“You taste”—he gives me one long lick—“like Christmas.” Then he kisses me, the sweet spice on his tongue making its way into my mouth, his fingers sticky in my hair.
“I should come all over your face, make you extra festive.”
“Yes, please,” I pant.
He slaps my ass. “Wear a skirt tomorrow. I’m gonna win this thing then fuck you.”
A loud knock thuds on the door. Fletcher kisses me then slips like a shadow out the window while I scramble under the covers.
“Ellie, are you alright? I thought I heard—” My dad’s eyes narrow. I know he picks up on the current of cold air Fletcher left in the room.
“Heard what?” I hope my face doesn’t look too red and sweaty, and I have to clench my hands to keep from reaching up to feel my hair to see if there’s candy stuck in it.
“Nothing. Just, uh… good luck at the game tomorrow, kiddo.”
26
FLETCHER
The locker room’s buzzing as I pull on my gear. The rookies are antsy like the dogs we’d use in the military that just wanted to go loping over the bombed-out desert landscape for hours on patrol.
I lace up my skates tight. I’m itching to get on the ice, itching to skate, to win.
“We gonna win, you think?” Jovi is twitchy next to me. Now that we’ve all had a taste of victory, no one wants to go back.
“We better.” Bramms wraps clear tape around his shin guards.
“You’re all winners to me!” Ellie’s mom bustles into the locker room.
“Trina, goddamn it, don’t listen to her!” Granny Murray rails. “I have money riding on you all.”
“I thought team employees weren’t supposed to place bets.”
