Page 46 of Our Secret to Keep

More like stretched out and used.

Like an old condom.

No, thanks.

Nate has killer stamina. All hockey players do. We know how to reserve our energy for those quick bursts on the ice. He probably went all night with her. I’ve watched him line up girls and fuck them one after the other.

“Nah, I’m good,” I tell him. “I need to shower.”

Samantha sits back on the mattress, legs spread, and raises her hand to beckon me. “Come play with us, River.”

Nate’s rock hard and stroking his long length. His cock is perfect, smooth, and wet with pre-cum. I consider staying to watch him fuck because I love how his body moves when he’s racing to the finish line. But I’m not in the mood to fuckher. Now, if he were bent over and offering his ass to me, that would be a different story.

“Have fun without me.”

As I turn to leave, Nate says, “Don’t be such a pussy.”

I walk toward the door. “I have shit to do.”

I’m such a liar.

Well, technically, I have to film new videos for brand deals. My dad already texted about getting those posted this week. With school and practice, today is the only day I have time to work on them.

“Yeah, like what?” Nate asks.

“My dad is on my ass about filming more videos for the sponsors.”

A few years after my dad retired from the Rangers, he took the head coaching job with the team. Whenever he’s home, he travels to Connecticut to watch me play. We bond over hockey. But when it comes to other life shit, we have nothing in common.

I’m an only child and have lived in his shadow for years. He groomed me to be just like him in every way. That’s why I fear disappointing him. Dad sees so much of himself in me that my being anything but straight would shatter his world.

I can’t do that to him.

It’s better this way.

“I’ll help you,” Nate offers.

I bob my head, knowing I could use his help with setting up the tripod on the ice. “I have to shower first. I’m leaving for the rink in thirty.”

Nate slaps Samantha’s ass. “Off you go.”

She flicks her blonde locks over her shoulder and gasps. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, you wanna fuck?” Nate waggles his eyebrows at her. “If you’re a good girl and shut your mouth, maybe I’ll make you come one more time while River showers. But then you gotta go.”

She wets her lips. “Can’t I watch you guys practice?”

“Nope.” Nate slides off the bed and grabs a condom. “Sundays are reserved for River and me. No chicks allowed.”

It’s always been this way. Some people—like my father—go to church on Sundays. But Nate and me? We have our traditions. Hockey, junk food, and movies. And now that I think about it, we have a weekly date.

Fuck.

No wonder why I’m so in love with him. Nate has basically been courting me for the past decade.

Samantha shakes her head. “I don’t get you guys.”

Nate puts one knee on the bed, his sexy ass facing me, and tears open a condom with his teeth. He flips Samantha onto her stomach and drags her to him.

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