Page 63 of All Your Pucking Secrets

A few minutes later, when the buzzer sounds, the final score is 5-1.

We skate a victory lap while the home crowd cheers and then retreat to the locker room. Coach Danvers gruffly congratulates us, then warns us not to get too big for our britches. He warns us that we’ll be practicing some of our weaker plays on Monday, and then he and the assistant coach leave.

I get out of my gear as quickly as possible and rush through the shower. I pull on a pair of jeans and a team hoodie, and I’m checking my phone when Ruiz nudges me.

“There’s a party at Jackson’s place,” he says. “Beers and pizza. You in?”

“Nah.” I grimace, aware that I should be making a better effort to integrate into the team. “I have something else to do.”

He cocks his head, his dark eyes gleaming. “Your girl? I saw her in the stands.”

My chest puffs out. “Damn right.”

He holds his fist out and I reluctantly bump it. “Good luck, man. Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t.” Hopefully.

I sneak out one of the side doors and manage to avoid some of the girls who hang around in the hopes of catching the players as we leave. I beeline to my Audi and drive home as fast as I can without risking being pulled over by the cops.

When I’m holed up in my apartment, sprawled on the big gray sofa in the living room and gazing at the massive painting of the night sky hung on the wall, I call Echo. I don’t really expect her to answer despite showing up at the rink earlier, so I’m surprised when the call connects.

“You came,” I say, at a loss for words. Apparently, I didn’t take the time to think through what I’d actually say to her if I got the chance.

“I did.” Amusement laces her voice.

“You have no idea how much that means to me.”

She clears her throat, and I get the feeling I went too far. “You played well. I was worried when you took that hit though. Are you okay?”

My insides warm. She was worried about me. That must mean she cares, right? At least on some level.

“I’m fine,” I tell her.

I’ll have the mother of all bruises, and I’ll be achy for a couple of days, but that’s just how hockey is. There’s no point worrying her more.

A silence descends between us. I’m tempted to let it linger and find out what she might say to fill the void, but she’s too skittish for that. It’s more likely she’d hang up and refuse to answer the next time I call. It’s better to keep her comfortable. Or at least comfortable-ish. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t push things a little.

“Since you held up your end of the deal, it’s time for your reward.” I lower my voice. “Have you tried any of the other toys?”

“Just one,” she admits.

“Which one?”

“The mini vibe.”

That makes sense. It’s non-threatening and she didn’t have to put it inside her. I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that the idea of penetrating herself—even with a sex toy that’s completely under her control—intimidates her.

That’s all right. We can work up to it—if she lets me help her. As much as I’d love to listen to her fucking herself with a dildo that I can imagine is my cock, it isn’t in the cards today.

“Are you ready to use it again?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers. “But I need you to…take control like you did last time. Tell me what to do.”

“I can do that, baby.” In fact, it would be my pleasure. “Are you alone?”

“Martina is out with her friends. She shouldn’t be back for hours.”

“Good.” We’d have plenty of time then. “Get the vibe, the lube, and light that candle. Maybe put on some soft music. Do you still like to listen to classical music?”

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