Page 53 of Fresh Ice
Killer groaned. “Go take a walk or something, man. You’re driving yourself crazy,” Killer suggested.
Gray nodded. “You’re gonna give yourself a hernia, kid.”
Levy frowned in displeasure but didn’t say anything as he walked away. Alonso knew Killer and Gray hadn’t meant anything bad with the order, but it was the wrong way to deal with Levy—he was somebody who thrived on being with the team, on feeling useful.
Alonso debated for only a second before chasing after him. He peered around quickly and pulled Levy into a utility closet.
Levy yelped, although he relaxed marginally when he saw it was Alonso. “What the hell, man?”
Alonso could taste copper in his mouth. He’d never done anything like this, not even with Levy. Mostly, he was happy to submit and go with the flow, but every day he found himself being more bold. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Alonso started. “It doesn’t matter if you get a goal tonight because you always help us win, don’t you?”
Levy just blinked at him.
Alonso went on. “But if you get a goal, I’m going to take you home and give you the best blowjob of your life. I’m gonna get on my knees and you can fuck my face until you come.”
Levy was gaping at him now, eyes wide, but Alonso wasn’t finished.
“And then you’re gonna take me to bed and open me up slowly like I know you love. You can tell me to grab the headboard and I’ll be so good for you, Levy. And when you’re hard again, you’re gonna slip inside me just like that. How does that sound?”
There was a long moment of silence as Levy just blinked at him stupidly. “Yeah. Okay,” he croaked eventually.
“Okay. Now relax and concentrate on that,” Alonso ordered.
Levy nodded again, not protesting when Alonso pulled him out of the closet.
It might not help Levy produce, but at least it would distract him enough to get him out of his head.
Despite the genius of Alonso’s plan, they started the game by giving up two—one unlucky bounce and the other such a defensive breakdown Alonso was fucking embarrassed for his team.
Levy didn’t seem defeated during the first intermission, though, not even when the coach chewed them out for their sloppy play. They went out there again and within seconds, Killer had scored a goal off Levy’s assist.
Alonso cheered loudly as they cellied, using the chaos of the moment to practically press his lips against Levy’s ear and say, “There you go, baby…but I said a goal, not an assist.”
Levy’s eyes flared hotly as they separated, making their way to the bench to bump fists with the rest of the team.
They kept the one goal deficit until the end of the second, Gabby scoring a spectacular coast-to-coast goal, completely unassisted. All Levy could do was sit on the bench and gape as his captain wove around the Grizzlies, undressing them completely as he pushed through two defensemen to beat the goalie.
The arena erupted, even the bench cheering louder than usual.
The following intermission was no less tense, but there wasn’t a defeated set of shoulders in the locker room—they had something to prove.
The third period was chippy as fuck, more hits than shots-on-goal and a few too many close calls for comfort. By the end, neither team had managed to score, overtime beginning with a brawl.
A few punches weren’t going to deter the Hounds when they were that pumped up and feral, though. In the dying seconds of overtime, Alonso’s line jumped on the ice, stealing the puck from the Grizzlies after they made a sloppy attempt to shoot.
Alonso snapped up the puck, brushing across the blue line and into the offensive zone.
He didn’t even have to think about it. He saucered the puck to Levy, and one tap from him was all that was needed to bury it deep into the back of the net.
The crowd roared, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as Alonso’s own shout as he jumped on Levy.
“Yes! I knew you could do it,” Alonso hollered.
Levy grinned ear-to-ear, gripping Alonso with one arm as he invited the rest of the team in with the other.
Alonso wouldn’t take credit for the break in Levy’s pointless streak, but damned if he wouldn’t collect the fruits of his labour.
CHAPTER TEN
