Page 60 of Released from the Sin Bin

Willa slaps my chest with the back of her hand and my dick twitches in appreciation. I think she unlocked a new kink for me. Who fucking knew?

There’s got to be other women willing to do that, right?

“I slapped you,” she says with an edge of a question. “I slapped your face?”

“Yeah.” I rub my jaw, remembering just how good it felt.

“And you liked it?” she asks and eyes me like I’m crazy.

“Yup.” I shrug. “A first for me too.”

I am fucking crazy, but I’ve been messed up in the head long before Willa slapped me across my face.

Willa shakes her head with a laugh.

“I have to go and get ready.” I check the time to see it’s four-thirty. Power Skate is an hour, but I have to get home and change first.

“Hey Carter,” Willa sits up with the sheet covering her chest, “this won’t change anything between us, right? We can still be friends and you’ll still come over and watch games with me? Only without rum.”

“As long as you can stop yourself from seducing me,” I tease her while getting dressed. “We’re fine.”

“Good.” She glares at me. “And that will not be an issue.”

“See ya.” I give her a salute before quietly leaving her room and running down the steps.

Our skate coach is kicking our ass today. We’re always sluggish after a break, but this feels like pure torture. Especially after a night of drinking.

I never drink like that, and the excess liquid churning around in my stomach is reminding me why.

“Pick up the pace, Carter. You’re slowing down.” No kidding. We’ve been running drills for an hour.

“When I shove my stick up your ass I’ll move faster,” I mutter to myself, but Gentry hits my shoulder and when I look up, Coach Lipsky is glaring at me. I may have said that louder than I meant to.

He skates over in front of me and blows his whistle for the other guys to go, stopping me from following.

“How about I shove that attitude up yours?” He blows his whistle again as the guys skate up and down with quick changes. “Do you think you’re better than them? That you’re better than doing basic drills? Try this shit if you make it. You won’t. We’ll bench you so fast, you won’t have a shot in hell of making it to the pros. Is that what you want, Pierce?”

I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep my mouth shut. Any other year, I would’ve dared them to bench me. It doesn’t matter what I want. If I’m going to make it out of here, if I’m going to get my mom out, I need to get drafted.

“That’s what I thought.” He blows the whistle in my face one more time and backs away.

“Carter,” Coach Renan bellows out my name before I move to skate another drill. Calling me over to the bench where he’s in a discussion with one of the other assistant coaches.

Coach Greardon mostly works with our defense guys. But when I skate over, he quickly flashes me a smile before going back to their conversation. I wait to get chewed out again for my attitude, listening to them discuss some line changes and plays.

Finally, Coach Greardon steps back with a grin, ready to enjoy my tormenting.

“Are you giving Coach Lipsky a hard time again?” Coach Renan, our head coach, places his leg up on the bench to leer at me.

“I made a comment,” I give a vague response. I didn’t mean for him to hear it, but I’m tired of these shit drills.

“A comment?” He raises his brow to question me.

“It was under my breath.” I shrug.

“You’re slower than these younger guys,” he condescendingly shrugs back at me, “and not scoring as much either.” Yeah, fuck me.

“New semester.” I shrug again. We haven’t even had a game yet. Why is he getting up my ass about it?

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