Page 87 of Crossing Lines

Rhonda

Me too. I blew the biggest load and shouted your name. Hope no one heard me through the walls.

My dick pulsed in my briefs as desire flickered up my spine. That fucker. When we got home, I was going to pound his ass so hard he’d barely be able to walk the next day.

The next evening,we hit the ice with a solid game plan, and it was working. Ryan and Coach Hammett together had set up our defense so well that Michigan didn’t have a chance in hell of scoring all night. And my boy Archer shined like the soon-to-be Coyote he was.

I peeked at the clock. We had two minutes left to hang on to this win. We only had one goal, but still, a win was a win. I waited behind Hopkins for a faceoff in our defensive zone. All we had to do was snatch the fucking puck and run it down the ice.

The ref threw the puck between Hopkins and the Michigan center. It bounced off the center’s stick and flew toward me.

“Holy fuck.” I sprinted toward it and knocked it to the ice,then swiveled and sped toward the center line, coming in close to the boards.

“Not this time.” One of their D-men flew at me and shoved me into the board, then held me squished against it for a split second.

“Fuck.” As I smashed my face against the clear plexiglass, I threw my elbow back, hitting his chest pads. The fucker was forcing a penalty on me. “Get off me, asshole.”

“I thought you boys liked being taken from behind?” He cackled.

Shoving off the boards, I flung him backward. “Only if the guy’s got a dick bigger than a peanut.” I’d learned long ago not to let chirps like that bother me. With a smirk, my gaze searched the rink. Where the hell was the puck?

Their center skated off with it, speeding toward Ace.

Crouching with his knees buckling in, Ace was laser-focused on the Michigan center.

The center drew back with his stick, then shot a line drive straight at Ace’s chest.

Picking the puck out of the air, Ace chortled. “Nice one, douche.” He threw the puck onto the ice at Carlson, who swung around behind the net, then passed to Hodge.

Those two had become unstoppable. I skated toward them, just in case they got bombed.

The horn blew, signaling the end of the game.

“Holy fuck, we won!” Dropping my stick, I raised my gloves over my head and pumped my arms.

The team piled out off the bench and onto the ice, everyone coming together into a mass of hugging arms and jumping bodies. Wrapping around Carlson, Hodge, and Hopkins, I joined in the chanting, “Frozen Four, Frozen Four, Frozen Four…”

That night,we all celebrated with a team dinner at a pizza place, taking up long tables in the dimly lit interior. I sat with Archer on one side and Ryan in one of his dapper suits, his hair slicked back, on the other. I asked, “So, next week, Saint Louis?”

“You betcha.” Archer giggled and drank a mug of beer. “When we’re there, we need to get some barbeque. I’ve heard it rivals Texas’s.”

“Yeah?” Ryan smiled at me, then glanced down the table at Coach Finley, who was eyeing us.

I leaned into his side and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything untoward.” I wagged a brow at him. I’d stayed away from him as long as humanly possible. There was no way I wasn’t celebrating this win with him.

“Unlike last night?” As he curled the corner of his mouth, he sipped his whisky.

Elbowing him, I said, “Come on, I warned you about that.” I’d never admit I’d been faking it. I wanted him aching for me when we got home. Which would be tomorrow.

“So, Coach, what are the plans for next week? Anything special to prepare for the game against Boston Tech?” Tyler picked up a square slice of pizza from the platter between us and bit into it.

“I’m reviewing some special drills with Hammett. Boston is going to hit you boys hard, and we’ve got to be ready.” Ryan slid a slice of pizza onto his plate.

I beamed at him. He was so fucking gorgeous when he was being a coach. How could I not fall in love with him? And soon, we could do all the things we’d been denying ourselves and be together in public, on campus, anywhere the fuck we wanted.

CHAPTER TWENTY

RYAN

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