Page 56 of The Import Slot
Jen has been on my mind nonstop. And seeing her on her knees for me—fuck. I couldn’t hold out. I’ve never put on a show for anyone before, but I couldn’t help myself.
She’s perfect. And I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.
I reach for my phone to distract myself and pass the time updating my socials first, giving my agent, Ronnie, something to get excited about. Then, I text Jen, but she doesn’t respond, which makes me nervous. My first thought is that she’s upset with me for not repaying the favour, which I wanted to do, but then I realise she could be driving.
My Insta post from the other day has blown up, and comments are flowing in. People are wondering who Jen is and more importantly, why she’s in a Senator’s jersey.
I don’t respond to any of the notifications, instead I carry on flicking through my feed mindlessly until I feel someone collapse onto the seat next to me. And there was me thinking I’d bagged myself a seat to myself today.
“You okay?” I ask Danny. This is unusual behaviour for him, so I’m worried.
“Yeah, but I need to talk to you,” he says, taking his cap off. I have a feeling I know what this is about.
“You and Jen,” he says with a sigh.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I had a chat with her last night. She probably won’t say anything, but she’s quite vulnerable after all that stuff with Nathan. He wasn’t kind to her, and it took her a lot to break things off with him, and I’d hate to see her get hurt again.”
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“Yeah, but what happens after this season, Prez? Are you planning on going back to the NHL?” He puts his cap back on.
Ah, I get it now.
“Yes,” I say.
I know we had this conversation before. Jen was adamant that she wasn’t a casual relationship kind of girl and wanted to keep things as friends for that very reason. Still, we gave in to temptation without discussing the impact of her original aspirations.
Fuck. What have I done?
I’ve been so selfish, and to make things worse, I want her. I don’t want to stop whatever it is we are doing.
All I’ve thought about is last night and how hard she got me. I’ve never got off that quickly from jerking off before and I wanted to make her feel as good as she makes me feel.
Deep down, I know this isn’t just about sex; there’s more to this than that. I need to talk to her, but it isn’t a conversation to have over text, and she starts her new job tomorrow, so it’ll be challenging to find the time with our schedules.
“Well, don’t fuck her about,” Danny says before shifting the conversation to last night’s game and that Matt Rodgers crap.
“Have you slept with that Rochelle, then?”
“No,” I say.
“Fuck. Sorry, mate. When I saw you like a fucking bear with a sore head, I thought you were out to get revenge or whatever that was,” Danny says.
“I was pissed at my dad. I thought I’d take it out on that fucker,” I say.
Danny nods. He understands.
By the time we make it to the rink, I’m wound up like a coil, thinking about how I can approach things with Jen, and I’m grateful when we all file off the coach.
Johnny grabs a ball from the storage bay underneath, tossing it at Bettsy, and we take turns kicking it back and forth while our gear is unloaded.
“Nah, she wants Preston,” I hear Bettsy say. I glance over to see what he’s talking about, and he elaborates. “I was just telling Hutch about Leah. The real reason she only wants ‘Netflix and Chill’ minus any chilling is that she’s holding out for you,” he says casually.
“I’ve never even met this woman,” I say, passing the ball to Johnny.
“He’s hot on Jen, anyway,” Johnny says.
