Page 49 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“Alex . . .”
His name trembles on my lips as I come, my body rocking against his in endless pleasure. I hold on to him as he fucks me through my orgasm, drawing out my pleasure until I can’t see anything but him.
With a strangled groan, Alex buries himself deep and shudders. “Fuck. Can’t last with you.”
I press my lips to his throat, tasting his stubbled skin as he groans again. With another deep thrust, he follows my lead off the edge into his own release.
It takes us a while to catch our breath. When we do, Alex presses a soft kiss to my cheek and reluctantly gets up to discard the condom. Joining me on the blanket again, he pulls me into his arms, and I gladly let him wrap me up against his chest.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes when I realize that I’ve never felt safer. I have to swallow those tears away when I realize that this feeling won’t last.
“Can we sleep here? Just for a little while?” I mumble, my lips brushing lazily against his bicep.
“Whatever you want.” He sighs into my neck, dragging a blanket from the couch over our naked bodies.
With the steady rainfall and crackling fire creating a soothing white noise, I savor the sound of Alex’s soft breaths slowing as he’s lulled to relaxation. And even though nothing between us is certain, it’s somehow still perfect.
18
* * *
ALEX
“That’s it. Just like that,” I call out to the group of kids I’ve been assigned to work with. There are a dozen of them, and each one is a fantastic skater.
When I was their age, I had promise and lots of potential, but I wasn’t this skilled. Not by a long shot. I arrived here two hours ago, and after playing a memory game to learn their names, which was mostly for my benefit since I had no hope of remembering them, we’ve taken to the ice.
“Do it again . . . um . . . you,” I call out, pointing to the tall, lanky kid at center ice.
Too bad I just now realized that all ten-year-old boys look the same wearing full hockey gear that includes a face cage. One of the other coaches has added a strip of tape to each of the helmets of the kids in his group with their first names. Smart. If I do this camp again next year, I’m going to steal that hack and bring a roll of duct tape with me.
I had them start with the basics so I could assess their skill level. Forward and backward sizzles. Hockey stops. C-cuts and backward crossovers. But we quickly moved on to stick handling and passing drills. And after lunch, I think we’ll have a scrimmage. I’m actually having way more fun than I thought I would.
When I left Aspen yesterday to make the five-hour drive down here to New York, I was regretting that I’d even volunteered to do this. Because leaving the cozy situationship she and I have been sharing this summer . . . ten out of ten, do not recommend. Spending even one night away from her when we have so little time left is tricky.
Still, it feels good to be on the ice. Even if I’ve never been to this city, never stepped foot inside this facility before, as soon as my skates hit the ice, it felt like coming home. And it feels good to give back to the next generation of hockey players. Plus, if that sexual harassment story breaks, I’ll need every last bit of goodwill I can muster. It’s not something I want to think about right now, though.
We take a break for lunch, and then after, I lace up my skates, joining the boys on the ice for an action-packed scrimmage. We’re not playing with goalies, but I secretly love the fact that the quietest kid in my group has taken it upon himself to guard our net—like he knows this isn’t really a competition without some healthy defense of our goal.
A kid after my own heart.
When the kids finish on the ice, I push myself through some drills, pumping my legs until I’m racing across the rink, taking the corners like I’m chasing an opponent. I hear cheers and whistles as I pass the kids. They might think I’m doing this to entertain them with my speed and power, but really, I’m all too aware of how very little ice time I’ve gotten this summer. Twenty minutes later, my heart rate is up and I’m drenched in sweat.
At the end of the day, I change in the locker room and head out, opting to shower in my hotel room before I go and meet Jaxon and Nelle for dinner.
Since I have a few minutes before I need to leave, I grab my phone and text Aspen.
