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“Tomorrow. Ass crack of dawn, six sharp. I want each of you here, sober, and ready to work. If I smell one bit of alcohol on any of you, you’re out. You’re done.” His attention snapped to me. “I don’t care if you’re a superstar with a scholarship and captaincy. I don’t care who you are. Go.”
We didn’t need to be told twice. We skated off the ice and headed straight to the locker room. The guys went to the showers after they’d stripped out of their uniforms, but I stayed behind until Atlas came in. I grabbed him by the arm, and he spun, glaring.
“Dude, stop. Do you want to be kicked off the team?” I asked.
He shook me loose and crossed his arms. His cheeks were flushed and it wasn’t from practice because we’d barely done anything in the last hour, and he looked nice, like how I imagined he’d be after fucking. “What do you want?”
I shook my head. “You can hate me. Mess with me as much as you want to at home, but this is our team. Don’t you want to win?”
He blinked at me.
“What you did to me last night was fucked.”
He stiffened and fury passed over his face, his jaw tensing. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want.”
I frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t ask you to buy me drinks.”
“Oh.” Some of the tension left his shoulders and he relaxed, smirking. “You took the shots. That was your choice, Birdy.”
I sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of my head. Inside the shower room there was laughter and the sound of someone slapping someone else with a towel on wet skin, followed by shouting about how much it hurt.
I narrowed my gaze at him as he shifted uncomfortably. “What did you think I was talking about?”
“Nothing.” He answered too quickly and huffed.
“Bullshit.” I stepped in closer to him, and he straightened. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his solidness helped his act of authority. Too bad for him I enjoyed taking on a dominant man. I licked my lower lip slowly, and his stare dropped to my mouth. “Come on,my world, tell me.”
He glowered. “Stop fucking around with that shit. The guys will get the wrong idea.”
I shrugged. “You’re the one calling me Birdy.” I laid my palm on his chest, and he froze. Something tickled my senses, a suspicious déjà vu feeling that I’d done this before, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
He swallowed, throat bobbing, and grabbed my practice jersey. With a tiny growl, he shoved me backward into the lockers.
I grunted at the force of yet another hit, but this one didn’t hurt as much as the throbbing in the left side of my face where he’d punched me earlier. While I’d been distracted by practice, I was able to ignore it, but now that the adrenaline had worn off the pain had begun to make itself known. I would probably end up with some bruises tomorrow, but by the slight discoloration at his jaw, he would, too.
“Are you into the rough stuff?” I teased, chuckling when he got closer. I fully expected him to punch me again, but the snarl, followed by a hard kiss on my mouth, wasn’t a thought in my brain until it was happening. The kiss was familiar, a fantasy I’d dreamed about, which was strange because as hot as Atlas was, I didnotwant to sleep with him. Right?
My body had different ideas and my cock chubbed up in my pants, though it couldn’t go far with the protective cup. Pleasure simmered low in my stomach, replacing the nausea with something new and exciting. The emotion wasn’t just desire or need, it was a desperate eagerness to be thrown around and hate fucked until my hole was dripping with cum and I was spent. But withAtlas fucking Frosteson? I’d heard people around school call him the Frost Son and I’d worked out why since joining the team. If he was the son, did that mean Joseph was the Frost Father?
He shoved his knee between my legs, and I groaned into his mouth as his tongue pressed insistently against mine, and a memory blasted my brain. Us on the floor, me asking him to kiss me, and him doing what I’d wanted.
Fuck.
We’d kissed. This was the second time I’d had his lips against mine and his tongue in my mouth, and I wanted more. He hated me, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t fuck. Sex could be loveless. He didn’t need to like me to nut in me.
Laughter came from the showers again, and Atlas shoved backward, nearly tipping over on his skates as he did. His chest rose and fell, and mine did, too, as I chased my breath.
I stared at him. “You kissed me last night.”
“I did not,” he snapped immediately, as if he’d been expecting me to say it.
“You did.” I grinned. “You fucking kissed me. Now and last night.”
“Fuck you, Birdy.” He pointed a finger at me in a way that reminded me of Coach Hill and his dad rolled into one person. “If you mention this to anyone, I’ll make your life hell.”
I snorted. “Aren’t you trying to do that anyway?”
He went red in the face, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of embarrassment or fury or both. He looked hot when he was mad, too. Like a big polar bear ready to strike, and boy did I want to be his prey. He dropped his hand and stepped back again.
