Page 7 of The Puck Chase

“Oh, I’ll be doing it over my morning cup of tea when we are no doubt discussing what a terrible idea this was,” he tosses back quietly with a wink, before climbing into the hot tub and splashing both girls.

They both scream and giggle, their bare tits now dripping in water in a way that would make a priest disrespect his vow, before Georgia leans on the edge and asks, “Are you coming, thirty-one?”

I look at my goalie, who already has his face shoved between B’s tits, before I get rid of my own pants and smirk. “Oh, Gigi, you should know by now that I’m a gentleman, which means you will be coming first.”

I sink into the water, guiding Georgia’s waiting body over my own and pouring some of the gin onto her tits so I can lick it off. Her head tips back giving me better access, as Brianna begins to moan beside us, and I pull back to watch as Alexander sucks one of her nipples into his mouth. When B catches me staring, she leans over and kisses me, startling me a little, making Gigi giggle, it’s only then I realize what this truly is.

Brianna pulls back and then smirks before leaning in to kiss Georgia, and when I look at Alexander he shrugs, before going back to feasting on B’s tits, making her moan into Gigi’s mouth. And suddenly, whatever I was thinking before feels irrelevant. What Nova said about focusing more on hockey this year can wait until tomorrow, right?

The question floats into my mind just as Georgia's hand slides down my torso and fists my cock through my boxers attempting to wake it up.

Yep. Fuck it. It can definitely wait.

Ifucking hate parties. They are always full of the same bullshit and well, people, and I fucking hate people too. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Josh. He says I need to come to these things so I can socialize more, and honestly, that’s bullshit too. Yet after the three missed calls from my brother, and the voicemail that is now sitting on my phone, I definitely needed a drink.

Want to know what I didn’t need?

ArcherfuckingGray’s presence.

From the locker room, to the game, to this damn party, he’s fucking everywhere, and I just needed a minute to fucking breathe without him. It’s why I came out here, to find some quiet. I couldn’t leave, not when Josh was talking to some of our teammates by the door, he would have seen me and forced meinto the conversation just to try and make me stay, and well I couldn’t have that. So instead, I swiped a bottle of whiskey and came out back where I know nobody usually goes.

All the houses on Hockey Row pretty much have the exact same layout, since they are supplied for the team by the university, but this one is a little different. From what I’ve heard, Alexander Reign’s parents are rich, successful, and they love their only son, which means this house benefits from the Reign checkbook effect. It has all modern appliances and technology, top of the range furniture, art I could only dream of owning, and though my own house benefits from the Mayor trying to prove to everyone that he loves his son, this house is next level.

The back porch has a ridiculously over the top hot tub, and the remainder of the garden is half-decked with beautiful wood, surrounded by flowers and trees. Then there is a long path that leads down towards a sunken fire pit, right before the forest starts. Which is where I’m headed to find some peace. I’ve spent many nights sitting here in the quiet, contemplating life while the party rages inside of the house, and I thought tonight would be no different.

I’m watching the dance and swirl of the flames, as the fire crackles before me, and I take a sip of my whiskey, savoring both burns against my skin and throat. I can still hear the soft drum of music floating down from the house behind me, but my focus remains on the darkness of the trees only being enlightened by the fire. I pull out my phone, feeling the weight of that damn red voicemail notification, but just as I am about to listen to it, I hear the slam of the back door opening and shutting again and again. One, two, at least three people pile out onto the deck, and I sink lower into my chair to remain hidden, while internally groaning into the bottle in my hand. This is why I fucking hate people, they are everywhere all the time.

The telltale rumbling of a machine and the splashing of water signals to me that, whoever it is, is climbing into the hot tub. I also hear the hushed exchange of voices, but I block them out and focus on my drink, not caring for the no doubt mindless activities they are about to partake in. Not tonight anyway. More giggles and splashes have me rolling my eyes, as I count at least two girls, and when their giggles turn to moans I almost scoff. For fuck sake, there goes my peace and quiet.

More moans sound out from the girls, both fake and over exaggerated, as I then hear a semi-familiar male laugh, and can only presume one of my teammates has been entrapped by some of the girls inside. It’s always the fucking same, and I roll my eyes again, before I focus back on my phone when a new text message pops ups from my brother.

Jasper - Will you please answer the phone when I call, we need to talk

Jasper - Please, D, it’s about dad

As I read the words I almost laugh. Not because they are funny, but because of the fucking irony. Where was he when my jaw was shattered and they had to fit it with a metal plate? Where was he when four of my ribs were broken and I could barely move? Where was he when my skin was sliced and stitched until I passed out again and again? He didn’t want to talk about our dad then, did he? No, then I was lucky if he even fucking remembered he had a brother, let alone get him on the phone.

The phone lights up with another call and I let it ring, hoping he understands what it was like when he would do the same. When I was scared and I needed him, and all I wanted was to hear his voice, for him to tell me it would all be okay, for him to tell me that I would make it out one day like him, but he neverpicked up. So now I take a leaf out of his book, and watch the screen until it turns dark again.

When his next message comes through, I know I don’t have to read it to know what it’s going to say.

Jasper - I love you brother

It’s the same words he always sends when I don’t pick up, and I don’t know why I torture myself by always reading them. Maybe it’s because I miss the feeling of being a brother, of having someone in my corner, of having someone love me, but it’s too late for that now, it’s gone, and I can never get it back.

I take another sip of the whiskey, my hands itching for something more that I won’t allow, not when Josh still has faith in me. So as usual I settle for the burn of liquor, hoping it will help, just as I hear a deep guttural moan. The sound has me freezing with the bottle mid-air, almost at my lips again, not because of the no doubt reason for the moan, but because I know exactly who that moan belongs too.

That sound has haunted my nightmares for over three fucking years, ever since the night I met him, and although I might act like I don’t recall what happened, I remember every fucking second. I was high as fuck and all I wanted to do was lock myself away in my room and ignore the world. So imagine my surprise when I get there, only to find it occupied by a blond, cocky prick with his hand fisted in some random girl's hair. He didn’t look at me, not at first, which meant I saw the way he was silently begging for more from her, like her eager and sloppy mouth wasn’t enough, and I understood him more then, than I would ever care to admit.

Aren’t we always craving more?

I know I am, and I can’t remember a time I wasn’t.

The second I spoke his stare snapped to mine, and I felt the pull of something deep in my gut, and instead of being outraged, the prick just smirked and invited me to join them. I mean, who fucking does that? The girl didn’t mind of course, and I’m sure I’ve seen her face around a few times, but I don’t fully remember her. No, my focus was only on him, on his confidence, on his arrogance, on his fucking flexed arm muscles, as he stood his ground in my fucking room, on my fucking bed.

In my drunken and drug-fueled haze I didn’t even hesitate to join them, so ready to sink into the first hole I could find in the hopes of chasing away some of my demons. Yet it isn’t the girl I remember, or sharing her, it was the look in Archer Gray’s eyes as I fucked her, and the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. Groans that now once again fill the air all around me, and suddenly I feel like I can’t fucking breathe.

Why can’t I escape him? Why is it every fucking time I need peace, quiet, or some fucking solace from the dark stains that stalk my soul, that he appears to make things worse. I hate him, I fucking despise him, and the sound of his moans, yet still, they have every hair on my body standing on fucking edge. Fuck I need to get out of here, I’m in no mood for this fucking bullshit, and I shoot to my feet while using the shade of the trees to look for my escape, but of course my eyes float up to that damn hot tub.

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