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I glanced around the room and found her laundry basket in one corner. I picked up her panties and lifted them up to my face, inhaling the faint honey-and-roses scent of her that clung to the lace-trimmed cotton.
I wrapped the panties around my cock and began to stroke myself, watching her face shift in her dreams. She smiled slightly, her lips still parted. Was she taking my cock in her dreams, smiling up at me as she gripped my balls? Her fingers used to dig into my thighs, urging me forward, letting me fuck her mouth harder and harder.
She was such a dream.
I’d always loved doing the same for her. Spreading her legs wide to run my tongue through her folds, working my thumb against her clit while I ate her out like my life depended on it, feeling her thighs shake around me. She was the only dessert I wanted.
I threw my head back and wrenched down on my lower lip, trying to make myself come silently, even though just being near her made for the best orgasm I’d had in five years.
I couldn’t fucking wait until I was coming where I belonged, buried deep inside her, watching her come along with me. I loved the way she blushed when she orgasmed, her eyes wide and sparkling, her fingers tangling in that gorgeous, thick dark hair.
I put myself away, then dropped the cum-soaked panties back into her laundry basket. I’d love to keep a pair of her panties...but soon she was going to be mine.
All of the time.
11
Iwent into work two hours early so I could skate before my shift. There was a huge fundraiser coming up, and as I walked through the lobby, I could see they were already setting up the lobby for the event. The black tie affair was a little less exciting for me when I’d be wearing my usual black Devils polo and passing out little crostini appetizers, but I was excited for it. The Devils had partnered with a really wonderful sounding charity.
And I didn’t mind the idea of seeing Carter, Jack, and Sebastian in their tuxes, either.
Greyson probably wouldn't have appreciated that sentiment, but I couldn’t imagine my life without any of them now that I’d met the four of them. Even though it was hard to imagine a life where the four of them ever came into contact with each other without throwing angry words…and fists.
They had history.
I got my cheap rental skates and carried them down to the ice for open skate.
Apparently something had changed about open skate, because it was packed today. And not with the usual weekday collection of elderly couples who chatted as they skated at a leisurely pace and stay-at-home-moms with wobbly toddlers on skates. There were a ton of young women and middle-aged men tugging at skate laces. I stared around me, curious what had changed. But skating was fun for everyone.
As I sat there lacing up my skates, it occurred to me that something about the history between my guys might be out there on the internet. Jack had accused Greyson of being wanted by the law at some point.
I pulled out my cell phone and began to search the guys’ history. Soon, I was pulling up stats from their high school hockey days. I stared at a grainy photo of them from the archive of The Green Ridge Courier, the newspaper from one of the suburbs of our city. In it, younger versions of Greyson, Jack, Carter, and Sebastian posed together with their hockey sticks.
I saved the photo, feeling the familiar tug of my past.
Of memories bubbling in my subconscious, that fell apart the second I tried to pull them out.
Of course, when I looked up, Jack, Carter, and Sebastian were literally hanging on the flags above the rink. So perhaps it wasn’t surprising they felt familiar whenever I saw their photos. Carter glared out of his photo—that seemed fitting—and Jack had that gorgeous, boyish grin. Sebastian, though, looked serious, except for one corner of his mouth tilting up just slightly. It was a look that made me wish I could do something to make him smile. I wanted to see his full-hearted grin.
If Greyson had played with them…I needed to figure out why he had stopped. They were never going to tell me that answer. I’d have to find out on my own.
I threw my cell phone back into my bag, decision made. I was going to the suburb on the edge of the city where the guys had grown up, I was going to find the trailer park where Greyson had lived, and I was going to start to unravel whatever had happened in the past.
I just needed a day off work.
I’d let the arena take over my life. My manager was always happy to give me more hours, and I loved being here.
Now I finished tying my laces and did the clumsy toddler-walk everyone did in skates across the black mats until I could step onto the ice. The ice was already marked with more curling divots from skates than it usually would’ve been at this hour, so my gliding didn’t feel as smooth.
The girl who sold wristbands for the open skate, Katie, also put on the music. It turned out she was a total Swiftie too, so I’d convinced her to play Taylor’s latest. The music, the plan percolating under my skin, and the freedom of flying across the ice all put me into the best mood.
“Isn’t that the girl who was there when Carter and Jack got into that fight?” I heard a girl murmur to my side.
I didn’t look at them, but from the corner of my vision, I could see the two girls who were skating together. It made me wish Carrie was here to skate with. They looked like they were around my age. One of them gripped the wall, floundering along on her skates awkwardly. Her friend was skating smoothly, but she had to be cold, given how much of her cleavage her sweater exposed.
So, they probably weren't here for the pure love of skating. They were probably here because they were wanna-be puck bunnies. Well, based on what I had seen of the guys’ behavior, they were probably in luck. It seemed like Jack, Carter, and Sebastian were always leaving with one puck bunny or another.
“No, I don't think so,” the floundering girl said with a lot more confidence in her words than she had in her skates. “She doesn't look like the kind of girl they would fight over.”
