Page 12 of Breakneck Hockey

“What’s the matter, Alderchuck? Sore ass?” Sutter smirks.

“I’m not the only one who’s butt hurt. Still mad you had to eat alone?”

“That’s it.” He lunges at me.

Our sticks are on the ice. I’ve got his jersey clenched in my fist. Mine’s tight in his hand. I’m hit with a wave of his scent and fuck, it means something to me now. We sweat on each other as our naked bodies slipped and slid that night. I couldn’t get enough of him.

He couldn’t get enough of me.

Jack saves the fucking day with his half-broken body, and we pull off a win. I’m not even worried about him and Mercy. They’ll get back together, that is, if they are even broken up—jury’s still out on that one—and he can stop being so sad. I’m gonna make it my personal mission to get him wasted tonight.

I wait around a bit for him, but when it’s clear he’s gonna be busy for a while yet, I take my stuff out to the van. My phone buzzes. It’s a notification from the Benduovr app. I know who it is before I open the app, which means I shouldn’t open the app.

Know what? I’m gonna listen to Gramma Droniak’s advice and block his ass. Slay, bitches. I open the app just so I can do that, but while I’m here, I might as well read it.

Top Dog

I brought your socks.

Me

Shove them up your dick, Sutter.

Oops, I responded.

Top Dog

Get your ass to the damn dressing room, Alderchuck. Our side of the rink.

What an asshole. I’m not going. There’s no fucking way I’m going.

“Um, hey guys. I’ll be right back,” I tell them without explanation. Okay, fine. I’m going to him, but I don’t know why I’m going to him. Walking straight into enemy territory at that. The dressing room on the other side of the rink is nearly empty, just one or two guys I don’t recognize. Sutter is nowhere to be found. Bastard. He probably did this just to fuck with me.

“Alderchuck,” a voice calls from the beyond. The two guys glare at me for interrupting their peace even though Sutter’s the one who did.

I walk through the door to the men’s washroom area. “You’re really trying my patience, Sutter. Gimme my socks so I can go and never see your ugly face again.”

That’s not true. I’m sure we’ll play against each other next season. Unless I get pulled up—finally. Or he does, I guess. I won’t look directly at him ever again. Only long enough to zone in on a target.

Also, Sutter’s not ugly. Even with a crooked nose. I wanna rub my face against his mouthwatering stubble.

The door shuts and a lock clicks. When I turn around, Sutter is there, his strange eyes filled with the usual savageness, breath heaving. He’s downright sinful in his black t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. They accentuate the curve of his peach-shaped ass.

“Congratulations,” he says.

I step closer so that we’re toe to toe, my heart pounds in my chest. Why does being near him make my heart race now? “Oh, fuck off, Sutter. You can’t tell me you came here just to?—”

His hungry mouth is on mine, his firm hand snug into the roots of my freshly washed hair. He’s against me, I’m against him and whoa, the way he fucking kisses me. Like he’s craved nothing but me for a lifetime.

“You belong on my dick, Alderchuck.”

“Like hell I d?—”

He kisses me again, hot, savage, unrelenting. I should pull away. Push him away. Instead, I grip onto him for dear life, deepening the kiss by shoving my tongue down his throat.

“There you are, kitten,” he says.

“Don’t call me kit?—”

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