Page 28 of The Break Out

Baby Collee: I’m going to get a restraining order.

I bark out a laugh she can’t hear.

Colton: I love it when you threaten me, Princess. Makes me so hard for you.

Baby Collee: You can take care of that by sticking it in a blender. Night, Wheeler.

I have another plan to take care of it. It includes my fist while I imagine it’s her mouth instead. For a brief moment I think of getting arealmouth to take care of it. But that seems like a lot of work and I’m hard now. I know the second I finally sink into Brynn’s warm mouth while she sucks me down her throat is going to be so fucking satisfying.

I hope she talks back to me while showing me what a good little slut she is for my cock. She’ll beg for me. Beg for everything I want to give her and more.FuckI just know she’s going to take me so well.

My hand’s already wrapped around my cock and I’m stroking it to the thought of her. It brings me to the edge almost too quickly and I’m coming with a groan, wishing I was spilling inside her throat instead of just onto my abs.

There’s always tomorrow, after the game. She may want to act like we don’t know each other, but that’s not going to happen.

Morning skate goeshow it always does before a game. Some drills and running plays before watching some game film to prepare for our opponents then head home to prep for the game before I go to the arena.

As usual, I don’t talk to any of the guys until I’m forced to. I can tell how sick they are of me, and I don’t give a fuck. We’ve also been playing like shit, and I know they blame me. I’m not the only player on the team and they all suck.

Coach has me on the second line tonight with Mann and Jones. Simple enough, they don’t piss me off as much as some of the others. Mann is pretty quiet, and Jones just glares at me.

During our first shift, Mann passes the puck to me as we race into Nashville’s zone, and I’m forced to pass it back when I see one of their players gunning it for me. Mann shoots and scores, getting the first goal of the game.

As we go back to the bench after his celly, he leans toward me, “Good play, Wheeler.”

I nod at him, but don’t say anything. It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re up and that’s all that counts.

Nashville wins the next face off and I’m instantly annoyed again. They keep taking shots and our defense is working hard, but the shift is going on too long and they’re getting tired. I’m getting antsy to get back out there. I see so many openings tosteal the puck that aren’t taken, which only makes me even more pissed off.

As soon as there’s a chance for lines to switch, we do and I’m flying back out, immediately checking another player into the boards and then the whistle blows.

“What the fuck?” I shout, slapping my stick against the ice.

“Boarding, two minutes,” the ref calls.

“Fucking bullshit, I barely hit him!”

I’m being directed to the penalty box but refuse to shut up because this is a shit call.

“Are you blind? Because you know that call was complete horse shit.”

“Keep talking and you’ll get another two for unsportsmanlike conduct,” the ref tells me.

“Fucking do it, I’m sure Nashville will suck your dick a little extra to give me two fucking penalties.”

I’m given four minutes for the two penalties. I’m fuming while in the box. Sometimes I wish I could drop gloves with the fucking refs. They can make or break a game and this call was complete bullshit.

The first two minutes were killed off, but of course, they still end up scoring on the power play and I can’t help but slam my stick on the floor screaming, “What the fuck!”

I race out of the box and snatch the puck from Nashville in amove that would make me impressed if it was anyone else. But it’s me, and I know how to play fucking hockey. Suddenly, I’m knocked hard in the shoulder from behind. The hit takes me by surprise so I’m unable to stop myself from flying onto the ice and slamming into the boards. Pain shoots up my shoulder, but I don’t let it hold me back as I shoot up to confront the guy.

“The fuck is your problem?” I shove him as soon as I’m standing.

“You acting like a bitch about an obvious call.” He shoves me back.

“Talk about being a bitch, how about you drop your gloves and I’ll show you who’s the bitch here.”

I shake mine off onto the ice and latch onto his jersey, clocking him in the chin so hard his helmet goes flying instantly.

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