Page 172 of The Substitute
“Baby?” he asks, clearly caught off guard.
I wink.
He rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll be waiting for a round two since you’re so good with your tongue.”
Ambrose’s steps falter, and he swallows but quickly recovers and quips, “I’d have you begging if I let you fuck my mouth.”
Did he really just go there?
“I believe you.” Not so subtly, I grab my halfy so he can see.
He glances down at my hand, then meets my eyes again. “You’re just trying to get me out of my head. Fuck off.”
I lift my shoulders, stroking over myself once before releasing my dick. “Is it working? You can suck my cock in the parking lot real quick so I’m not a distraction all game.”
He growls, but he can’t hide he’s half hard in his slacks, too. “I’m not giving you an edge to play better.”
“What if the orgasm gives you the edge, baby?” I smile sweetly at him as we stop outside their arena.
He flexes his jaw, and I can’t tell if he’s actually considering it. “Go fuck yourself.”
“I may have to now…while imagining your tongue.”
FIFTY-TWO
AMBROSE
Why the fuck did I consider blowing him?
That would be cheating on Tobi, right? Even with us all fucking together, it would still be without Tobi. That can’t be right.
And Savage can’t really want that. It was just a game he’s playing to get in my head. I know how he is—I can’t believe I even considered it to be anything else. I would have gotten on my knees, and he would have left me there hard or something.
I refuse to let him get in my head before the game. We had a great afternoon, and I’m feeling good. It’s going to be a good game.
We get on the ice, and I don’t have to go find Teddy for warm-ups. Another good sign. The entire team looks good, and I’m on top of the world when we go out for our first period.
The game starts and tension is high, probably because of just how many fights we got into in the last one, but without me and Savage trading insults, everyone else keeps it civil enough. They shoot first, but Teddy makes an unbelievable save, and it gives our team even more energy.
We get a couple of shots off too in the first period, but Savage is a good goalie and saves them all.
Going into the second period, I’m determined to score. I’m all over the puck, and it feels like magic against my stick. I don’t get an opportunity until late in the second period when I get a fast break. I charge up the ice to face Savage. I’m wearing the biggest shit eating grin as I fake, and he goes for it. I slam it into the other side of the goal, and the buzzer sounds.
I throw my hands in the air as Savage straightens back up. I expect him to be pissed, but he’s smirking. Dickbag. He can’t let me have this one thing, can he?
But it doesn’t matter. We are up 1-0, and my team mates surround me.
The second period ends without them getting a goal, so we are flying high when we come out for the third period. Unfortunately, they open the third with an amazing goal by their center. But it’s fine, we have nearly a whole period to make up for it, and we’re playing so well.
I get another break, and I’m not going to mess it up. I get almost to the goal when something catches my eye in the stands. My brain wants to register it as something, but I refuse to break my focus. Savage doesn’t take my fake out bait this time, so it’s me against him.
I shoot and hold my breath.
Before I see if it goes in or not, I’m distracted again by a flicker of gold in the stands. My gaze lifts to the flash directly behind the goal. It’s a ring. One I know well.
That ring has left marks on my skin. I’ve had it bruised into my body, and I’d know it anywhere. I lift my eyes further to his face. My father is standing in the stands, directly behind Savage’s goal. He’s smirking as he claps because he knows exactly what he’s doing.
