Page 62 of Goalie Interference

I leaned down to kiss her cheek and down her neck as I slowly slid into her. Her breath hitched and I stilled, waiting for her to be comfortable, but she lifted her legs and wrapped them around my hips, urging me on.

Even through the condom, her tight grip on my dick was testing all my control. I closed my eyes, pictured Beast’s face, tried to conjugate some French verbs from elementary school to make sure I didn’t come immediately. She felt too good. I sucked in a breath and slowly pulled back, reluctant to leave her body. And then pushed back in, a little less slowly.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Back out, and in, each time going faster. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her legs tightened around me, and soon I was pounding into her, barely clinging to control. I couldn’t hold out much longer, so I used my thumb to press on her clit. A couple of presses and then I felt her shudder, her channel gripping my dick and setting off my own orgasm.

I shot into the condom, pulses of pleasure moving over my entire body, sapping my strength and taking all my problems with them. I dropped to my elbows, breath panting, sweat dripping off my body to hers.

Not cool.I pulled out and flopped onto my back, carefully gripping the base of the condom. A couple more breaths. “Where should I put this?”

Her eyes blinked open. “There’s a garbage can over there.”

I sat up, dropping my feet over the side of the bed and dealing with the aftereffects. I leaned forward on my elbows, trying to bring my brain cells back online.

I felt her hand on my back, running over my tattoo. “This is pretty impressive. It’s the only piece you have?”

I tensed but didn’t pull away. “Yeah.” The tattoo covered my back, a lake scene with loons and trees, echoing the calm of the cottage.

“Is that your cabin?”

“It’s kind of like that. Not an exact match, but the feel of it.”

She sat up behind me. “I can see why you love the place.”

I should let it go at that. I never explained, but I wanted her to know the bad as well as the good so she could pull away if she needed to. Better for me to be prepared if tonight was it. “It’s covering up a tattoo I got when I was young and stupid.”

“Not a naked woman, was it?”

I snorted. “No. I had the World Junior trophy on one side and the Calder Cup on the other, almost life-sized on my back.”

She didn’t respond for a moment. She moved around till she could see my face. “So you covered it up?”

I kept my eyes on the floor. “It was a little, I don’t know, presumptuous maybe? After I was injured and got back to playing in the NHL, I wasn’t at that level anymore. I heard some comments in the locker room. It seemed like a good idea to cover it up.”

She was watching me, head tilted. “Maybe those guys were jealous. You did something really impressive, and they envied you.”

I lifted my head, putting more of her in my line of sight. “You think they were jealous?” She shrugged. It moved her breasts in a way that distracted me for a moment. “But that was kid stuff. It wasn’t like I’d won the Stanley Cup and got that inked on my back.”

She snorted. “It’s not just kid stuff. Believe me, Ollie still feels those losses. It was a big deal, and you should be proud of what you did.”

“Even though I’ve never done anything since?”

It ate at me sometimes, the frustration of not being what I had been. Kept me chasing the dream as I grew older, more tired, further from that peak.

Her hand touched my arm, then retreated. “You’ve heard of one-hit wonders, right? Musicians who had one big hit? Should they be embarrassed by their success?”

I had no response.

“So you didn’t win the Stanley Cup. But you won a big international tournament when you were a teenager, and a championship at a professional level. Plus, you’ve held on to a career in hockey for all these years. I know how difficult the sport can be, so that’s an accomplishment too.”

I looked away again. I’d never considered that hanging around this long was a real accomplishment. Being a backup was supposed to be a step on the way to being a starter. No records set, no awards won—could just surviving be something to be proud of? Especially when most of the time I suspected that I was signed in hopes of finding that lightning in a bottle again. And then they were disappointed when it didn’t happen, and I was on the move.

It was a lot to think about. Maybe. But not here. Not now. Sophie had needed reassurance that she was a desirable woman. She hadn’t been looking to cheer up my sorry self. I’d best get back to Beast, who’d need a chance to pee by now.

I’d treasure this night. I’d gotten more out of it than Sophie had, I was sure. And I’d be an idiot if I didn’t make sure the door was open for more if she ever wanted it. But I wouldn’t presume.

I stood up and reached for my clothes.

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