Page 48 of Friendzone Hockey
“Maybe you want to do it right now? Bend me over Dad’s desk, or maybe shoving me against the wall is more your style, huh?”
“Dash—”
“I can keep going,” I warn, though I’ve got my answer. He’s affected. He stopped breathing two seconds ago. Desire and tenderness burn in his eyes in equal measure.
A fed-up snarl, then me against the desk again, but this time he lifts a leg, pressing my knee to my chest, prying me wide open for him. My heart’s in my throat and my nuts ache so hard I’m sure they’re gonna fall off.
“Yeah, I think of fucking you. Every goddamn day of my life, okay? But I wouldn’t be satisfied fucking you from behind. You’d be facing me the whole time because I wouldn’t make it easy for you. I’d punish you for being a fucking tease, punishyou with my cock until your voice was hoarse from begging. And then—and only then—when you’re all used up would I allow you any pleasure, any relief from the merciless pounding you’d be getting. I’d want to see all that playing out on that beautiful face of yours, right up to the moment you came for me with my name on your lips. Does that answer your question, sweetheart?”
Okay, one. Is it just me, or does sweetheart sound like a threat?
Two, can a person die from horniness? I think I’m the horniest I’ve ever been.
“Yes.” The fact that I sucked in enough air to say one word is a miracle. My lungs are empty like I’ve been winded. I’m scared to breathe anyway. I don’t want to break this spell, I want it to sweep me away.
But it can’t.
He releases my leg, and it drops to the floor. There’s a flash in his eyes. He said more than he meant to, didn’t he? He removes his hands from me as if I’ve burned them. “This’ll never happen again. I lost…” He swallows. “I lost control. I’m … fuck.”
Stacey backs away slowly, spinning toward the door. I close my eyes. I can’t watch him go, or I’ll run after him. I can’t let myself do that.
Chilled air fills the space where a fire burned seconds ago. There’s the click of a door opening, but I don’t hear it shut, just the creak of hinges when it opens again. Dirk’s familiar arms circle me as my vision blurs.
“You’re an idiot,” I tell him, crying into his shoulder.
“No, you two are idiots.”
I can’t argue with that. “You shouldn’t have done it.”
“No regrets. I’d ask what happened, but Stacey’s lips looked like they’d been mauled by a vacuum cleaner, and you have Alderchuck-sized fingerprints along your jaw.”
“Fuck you. I do not.”
“You do. Take a look for yourself.”
Wiping my eyes, I race to the mirror in Dad’s office. Sure enough, there they are. Big, round, starting to purple. My lips are swollen too. I run a finger over them.
Stacey kissed these. Staceykissedme. It wasn’t just any kiss, either. It’s already begun to haunt me.
And he thinks about fucking you every damn day.
“Does this mean the wedding’s off?” Dirk says.
This’ll never happen again. I lost control.
Those words were a death sentence to anything further happening between me and Stacey, even if I were to call things off with Syd.
“I don’t know. I’m going to have to tell Syd what I’ve done.” In person. When he gets home, I’ll tell him everything and hope to fuck he can forgive me. This was unforgivable. “I guess we’ll see.”
“You can’t be serious, Dash. Call it off.”
“To think once upon a time, you were the one warding Stacey away from me.” Now he’s conspiring to get us together.
“Shit changes. Now would you fucking listen to me?”
“I’ve been with Syd for almost two years. I’m not throwing that away over a meaningless kiss.” But my words already have less significance than they would have had about five minutes ago. I think I have to break things off with Syd no matter how this pans out.
“Okay, Dash. You might be able to lie to someone else, maybe even yourself, but not to me. Try the fuck again.”
