Page 74 of Hot for the Hockey Player
“What?”I scrambled to my hands and knees.“I’m doing Pilates like I do every morning.Did I wake you?”
She yawned, giving me a curious, sleepy-eyed head tilt.“No, I got up to pee.And I know you’re doing Pilates.Why are you snapping a rubber band against your wrist?Don’t people do that to stop themselves from thinking about something?”
“Uh … do they?”I used the coffee table to help myself stand up.
She knuckled sleep from her eyes.“You’re acting weird.”
“Go back to bed, sweetie.I’m fine.Just trying this new meditation thing that I read about.Ignore your weird mom.”
Her gaze narrowed for a moment as she studied me, then finally shrugged one slight shoulder under her cute Lilo and Stitch nightie, and trudged back to bed.Her door closed a moment later.
I glanced at the ceiling.What a fucked-up start to the day.And it wasn’t even light out yet.
I’d been awake for less than an hour and already lost the bet, or whatever it was, with Maverick.Resorting to masochistic tactics to keep myself in line.
Was Maverick up yet?
If he wasn’t up, maybe a certainpartof him was up.
Snap!Snap!
“Fuck.”
I was going to need more rubber bands.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Maverick
Tuesdaymorning,Iwokewith what was quite possibly the hardest erection of my life.Normally, I was a stomach sleeper, but with my back injury, I slept better on my side or back.You could have easily had an entire three-ring circus under my big top.And it was fucking painful.
I glanced at my phone, ignored the now constant plethora of notifications of messages, and merely checked the time.It was just after seven.
I reasonable time to get up, if not a little early for someone who didn’t have to be on the ice for practice.
I took my cock into my hand and conjured images of Gabrielle and me in her kitchen, and what might have happened if Laurel hadn’t come out of her room when she did.
We probably wouldn’t have taken it any further, since her kids were both home, but … maybe just a little further?
In my imagination, we took it a hell of a lot further, until tension and heat built in my lower belly and I gave over to sweet release, letting my cum shoot across my stomach.
The pain relief nearly brought me to tears.
I wiped it up with a couple of tissues, then hopped into the shower.
I was taking the boys to metalwork tonight, but I had physiotherapy this morning, followed by a whittling tutorial with a local whittler.He didn’t offer classes regularly, but I popped by his place, told him what I was doing on the island, and he offered for me to come by today to learn some basics.
I also had another interview with another sports podcaster.It was a very busy day, and I was excited.
I inhaled my breakfast of champions, which consisted of eggs from Maz’s chickens, some of my own delicious, homemade Burrata from the workshop at Fred’s Ched Shed, and bread from Let it Rise.Afterward, I clicked the link for the next interview since I didn’t have PT until ten.The interviewer was on the East Coast and it was already nearly noon there.
“Hey, Mav,” Charlotte Baumgartner greeted me with a wave.“How’s your morning so far?”
A snort built at the back of my throat.I wasn’t going to tell her about my giant tent, or perverted thoughts of Gabrielle, that was for sure.“Great.Enjoying getting to sleep in and not have to be on the ice at five in the morning.”
She laughed.“I bet.You don’t miss it?”
Shrugging, I leaned back against the couch cushions and sipped my coffee.“I do,” I confessed.“But my body needs the break.So I’m going to do as I’m told and enjoy the lack of an alarm clock that comes with it.”
