Page 34 of Their Obsession

I want them both. But I’m not sure I can handle the thought of them together. I’m unnecessarily jealous and desperate in the most extreme way. It’s uncomfortable. And now, I can’t decide if I’m trying to win them both over or run from this complete shitshow of a love-triangle gone wrong. It was only after I’d swallowed down all his cum last night that I remembered what Lilly had told me about him—that he’s dangerous, violent, unhinged. And I let him fuck my face in our locker room while I got myself off. And we’re both obsessed with the same woman. There’s no way this will end well. A smart man would walk away, realizing that this will go down in flames. A wise man would run.

But damn, I can’t stop myself from wanting to go down in flames with the wreckage.

“How’s the knee been holding up?” Karmine asks as he comes to stand next to me. His friendly presence pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Not bad,” I tell him honestly. “Will probably need some PT in the off-season but should be good to go after that.”

Karmine pauses for a moment, seeming to chew on his words before stating, “Lilly seems happier lately, you know? She deserves that.”

“She does,” I concede with a nod of my head.

“Mindset of a winner, boys!” Coach’s gravelly voice interruptsus. “We have the best line-up in the league. This win is ours. The division title is ours. The championship is ours!”

The locker room bursts out into a collective roar as all the players cheer in agreement. This game is critical for us—after a great start to the season, we hit a bit of a rough patch, but we’re still in the runnings for the playoffs. If we win tonight, we clench our playoff spot. We need this win. My eyes scan the players around me. We look angry, ready, hungry. My eyes lock with a pair of deep, dark irises. The heat swirling in his gaze makes my cock twitch beneath my gear. Fuck, I can’t think about how he pinned me against this very same locker last night and had his way with me. The heat I see now is the fury of a player, not desire…right? I swallow down the feelings growing inside me and break our stare. I look anywhere but back at him.

“Now, let’s get the fuck out there and kick some ass!” Coach’s booming voice echoes off the walls. The thunderous hollers and howls that follow cause my blood pressure to rise.

Damn right. This is our win!

Karmine claps me on the shoulder as I stand and move with the team across the room. We line up as a cohesive unit. Our goaltender first, our captain in the back, as we head towards the tunnel. It’s one of those things that you unconsciously learn to do as you grow up in the sport—you find your spot in the line. It’s your place. It’s sacred. I feel a large presence slide in behind me. It’s not Max like it always is. I don’t have to turn to know that it’s him. I can sense him. Smell him. His scent is distinctly masculine and intense, like waking up in the woods. It makes my mouth water and my body pulse with an intensity I’ve never felt before.

The tunnel is dark as we wait for our cue. The announcers are still listing off the visiting team members. Thunderous heckling follows each player’s name from the crowd. Our fans are loyal—and rowdy. It’s part of what’s so great about playing for TheStorm. With the oppressive darkness hiding us in shadow, I feel a hand slip around my waist, demanding my body lean backwards.

“Are you ready,Moi Novichok?” Dmitri’s warm breath tickles the shell of my ear.

I attempt to squeeze his hand that’s planted firmly on my hip but it’s hard with our gloves. I nod my head and softly whisper, “Yes.”

“If anyone so much as thinks about checking you tonight, I will make sure they regret it.” His promise wraps around me like a serpent, slowly constricting the air from my lungs. “Head in the game, Rookie.”

He releases me just as suddenly as he grabbed me. My shoulders slump as I try to calm my racing heart and thickening cock. The lights go up and the crowd erupts with noise as we make our way out onto the ice. The minute my skates hit the ice, everything else just melts away. The stress, the worries, the confusion all fade into the background. All that matters is the game. I look up at the rafters, to the jerseys of the players who have earned a spot up high, just as I do every game. I make a promise to myself each and every time I step on this ice that one day it’ll be my jersey, my name, my legacy up there.

We’re playing the West Coast Wolves tonight. They’re known for being a chippy team. As much as I don’t like to admit it, Dmitri is right — I need to focus and keep my head in the game. I circle the net, dipping right along the edge of the boards before shooting back out down the ice. When my eyes flit across the glass, they connect with a pair of shimmering green irises. Lilly is sitting back in her normal spot. When she catches me staring, she blushes. The pink glow beneath the small dusting of freckles that dot her cheeks is the most enduring thing I’ve ever seen. My heart feels as if it might burst as I catch her focused solely on me. The gravity of how very much I’ve missed her over these lastfew days hits me as I look at her. The girl sitting next to her is the same little blonde thing from her apartment. She’s glaring at me like she might slit my throat, but then her eyes flit to watch something over my shoulder. Her blue eyes widen to the size of saucers and she swiftly turns to face Lilly, saying something to her that I can’t make out.

“I hate the way she looks at you.” Volkkon skates up beside me, stopping casually and acting as though he’s checking his stick while he talks to me.

“And how exactly does she look at me?” I ask him while I continue to stare at the ray of sunshine sitting in the stands.

“Like you make her happy,” he snarks before skating off to take his place at center ice.

His words fill me with a sense of smug satisfaction. So does the knowledge that I had him in my mouth last night. He bends at the waist, readying for the face-off, and I take the opportunity to admire just how attractive he is. I may not have been with a man before last night, but I can certainly appreciate a well-built body. And that definitely describes the six-foot-three wall of muscle currently positioned right in front of me. If I didn’t hate him, I think I might like him.

Shit, I need to get my head in the game.

Giving one final glance at Lilly, who is still focused solely on me, I drop my stick to the ice.Mindset of a winner. Head in the game.

The ref skates up to where Dmitri is lined up against the Wolves’ best player, some old-timer named Miller. He looks at us with a cocky smirk. We may be a younger team, but that doesn’t mean we can’t play. We will have to remind him of that tonight. The puck drops, and Volkkon moves like lightning. His stick is down and flipping the puck back to our team before Miller even knows what hit him. A pulse of satisfaction runs through me as I begin to move, following my team as we bringthe puck up the ice. Max dashes ahead of me, skating past their line and into the offensive zone. The puck gets kicked back to him and he one-times it to the other side of the ice. Our right wing, Johnson, catches Max’s pass and lines up to shoot.

Fuck yeah, we’re going to score in the first two minutes.

But then, one of their defense swoops in out of nowhere and nabs it off his stick. He sends it flying up to their center who rushes down the ice past Max. I’m the last line of defense between the racing offender and the goalie. I skate backwards, giving myself time and space, letting him make the first move. Then out of the periphery of my eye, I see a blur of white and orange headed towards me—Wolves colors.Fuck. Two on one and I’m the one. I reposition so I’m between the two of them. They’re coming fast. No time to think, so I’ll just have to react. They pass back and forth, trying to find their opening as I pivot between the two. They shoot. At the last second, I swing my stick out and divert it; and the puck goes flying towards the corner of the boards.

I rush to go after the puck, getting there first. But just as I have it on my stick and turn to fire it off, the bone crushing sensation of being thrust into the boards rips through me. I’m flung against the glass, my neck snapping backwards and my helmet colliding with the boards with a deafening thud. The weight of Miller’s body crushing mine causes my lungs to deflate.

Then, just as suddenly as he was on me, his weight lifts off. I fall to the ground. The world spinning as my heartbeat thumps in my ears. I blink several times, willing the black spots out of my vision. I need to get up. I need to protect the goal.Head in the game.

I groan and grunt as I lift myself up. My eyes refocus, only to be met with utter chaos. Both teams seem to be in a scrum. Even our goalie is whacking a Wolf with his stick. In the middle, of course, is Miller. He’s on the ice. His bloody face is turnedtowards me as hit after hit rains down on him. Dmitri has him pinned down and is beating the shit out of him. All around them players are shoving and hitting. The white ice is splattered red with blood. The linesmen are attempting to stop the chaos but they’re overwhelmed. Around us, the crowd is going wild. An all out brawl in the first five minutes and they’re loving it. My eyes scan the sea of people, only to land on a pair of sage green irises. Lilly looks panicked. Her worried gaze flicks between me and Volkkon, as if she doesn’t know who to be more worried about. I offer her a small smile and wave before getting to my feet.

The refs finally make their way to the main fight, pulling Volkkon off the now thoroughly shit-kicked Wolf. Two men in black and white stripes drag him across the ice towards the penalty box. His feral gaze flicks to mine and he offers me a sly smirk. Blood tinges his teeth. He looks completely unhinged. My cock twitches in response.

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