The Pucking Player

20. Breathing Lessons

20

brEATHING LESSONS

SOPHIE

T he Defenders’ table is a whirlwind of testosterone. Glasses clink, laughter booms, and the guys are reliving every moment of their victory. Nate’s dramatically reenacting his game-saving stop, complete with sound effects. Finn’s regaling everyone with a play-by-play of his assist on the winning goal.

But I might as well be underwater.

My entire world has narrowed down to the points where Liam’s body meets mine. His chest is a solid wall of heat against my back, rising and falling with each breath. I can feel the rumble of his laughter vibrating through me and sending waves of tingles down my spine.

One of Liam’s hands is resting innocently on my hip, but there’s nothing innocent about the way his thumb is tracing slow, maddening circles under the hem of my shirt. Each brush of skin-on-skin sends jolts of electricity through my body.

“I like you wearing my jersey,” he grumbles in my ear, his hot breath scalding me. “Everyone knows you’re mine now. ”

His other hand rests on my thigh possessively, fingers splayed wide. To anyone else, it might look casual, but I know better. He’s slowly, torturously, inching his way up, leaving a trail of fire behind. My skin is hot, too sensitive to bear. I’m hyperaware of every millimeter his fingers travel, and I wiggle my ass against his thighs, searching for friction. I’m met with a large, pulsating rod pressing on my core, granting me blessed relief. With firm, barely visible movement, he slowly grinds my hips against his dick.

I’m turned liquid.

“You’re writhing like a little minx now, aren’t you?” he murmurs, the words warm velvet against my neck. Without a warning, my body begins to shudder in a long release. He hisses in approval.

“It seems like you’re having a good time, angel?” He chuckles behind me as my tremors subside.

A strangled sound escapes me, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. I clamp my mouth shut, mortified, as heat floods my cheeks.

Adam’s voice cuts through my haze. “So, Sophie, how are your med school applications going?” His tone is a bit too sharp, his eyes narrowed as they flick between Liam and me.

I open my mouth to respond, but at that exact moment, Liam shifts slightly. His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers, “You okay there?”

Adam’s frown deepens, his protective big brother instincts clearly kicking into overdrive. “Sophie?” he presses, his voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

I clear my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s fine,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly breathy. “The applications are...um...they’re going well.”

Liam’s chest shakes with silent laughter, and I resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs .

Jessica, bless her, swoops in for the save. “Oh, let her be for once, Adam,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Can’t you see she’s busy? Playing her part?” she adds and winks at me, then turns to engage Adam in conversation, effectively distracting him.

I shoot her a grateful look, making a mental note to buy her the biggest, fanciest cappuccino I can find tomorrow. As the conversation shifts away from me, I lean back slightly, feeling Liam’s arms tighten around me.

Bastard.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Despite the orgasm, with every minute, my nerves are becoming more and more raw. I’m a quivering mess. My body is wound so tight I feel like I might snap at any moment. The slightest movement of his body sends sparks shooting through me. The heat radiating off him, the subtle flex of his muscles, the scent of his body wash mixed with his arousal—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

I’m vaguely aware that I should be participating in the conversation. But how can I possibly form coherent thoughts when Liam’s fingers are tracing patterns on my skin that feel like they’re branding me?

As the group finally starts to disperse, Liam leans in close, his lips brushing my ear.

“Let’s get out of here, angel. Let me take care of you.”

A whimper escapes me before I can stop it. All I can do is nod, my ability to form words long since abandoned.

As Liam helps me to my feet, my legs wobble like a newborn giraffe’s. He steadies me with a hand wrapped around my waist, the blaze of his palm searing through my clothes.

We start saying our goodbyes, and I pray no one notices how breathless I sound, how glazed my eyes must be. But as we turn to leave, Adam steps in front of us, his eyes narrowing as they flick between me and Liam.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice low and menacing.

I open my mouth to respond, but Liam beats me to it. “Relax, Novak. I’m just giving Sophie a ride home.”

Adam’s jaw clenches, clearly not buying it. “I’ll take her.”

“Her dorm is on my way.” Liam shakes his head, his face the picture of innocence. “I’ll make sure she gets home alright, big brother.”

Adam looks like he’s about to argue when Jessica suddenly appears at his side, looping her arm through his.

“Oh, back off, Adam,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be a caveman. It would look weird if Liam let Sophie be driven home by someone else after she sat on his lap all night.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “The press catches inconsistencies like that.”

Adam’s frown deepens. “But?—”

“No buts,” Jessica interrupts, giving his arm a squeeze. “Remember, we’re trying to distract from the PEDs story. Sophie sitting on Liam’s lap and then leaving with him will be perfect fodder for the sharks.”

I shoot Jessica a grateful look as Adam’s resolve visibly wavers.

Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But straight home, O’Connor. No detours.”

“She’ll be safe with me.” Liam pats him on the back, the picture of sincerity.

As we make our way out of the bar, Liam’s palm never leaves my back. I catch Jessica’s wink just before the door swings shut behind us.

The cool night air hits me like a shock, the air creeping its icy tendrils under my coat. Liam guides me to his car, opening the passenger door, and I wordlessly slide into the seat, the butterflies in my stomach now feeling more like a flock of caffeinated seagulls. An awkward silence descends. His hand finds its way to my thigh, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of what I’m doing.

Going home with Liam O’Connor. To fuck.

My mind goes into overdrive, conjuring images of the parade of supermodels and starlets that must have graced his bedroom. I’m probably the millionth girl he’s brought home. Do I measure up? Should I have worn racier underwear?

“You okay there, angel?” Liam’s voice cuts through my panic. His eyes meet mine. “Looks like your mind is racing a mile a minute.”

I nod, unable to form words. He reaches over, his hand squeezing mine. “Breathe,” he says softly. “Count to four on the inhale, four on the exhale. The thoughts will pass.”

His calm demeanor reassures me. I do as he says, the buzzing of the car and my breath the only sounds around us. Slowly, I feel the tension dissipate and leave my body.

“It works,” I say, after a while. “This could be golden during my exams. How do you know how to do that?”

He smirks, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his confident exterior. “Hockey players deal with a lot of pressure. We learn a few tricks along the way.”

As we drive, a question bubbles up, and before I can stop myself, it spills out. “How many girls have you brought home before?”

Liam’s eyebrows shoot up, but his composure doesn’t waver. “You’re the first,” he drawls slowly, his voice steady.

“I’m not buying that, big guy,” I scoff .

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “I never bring girls to my place. It’s my sanctuary.”

I blink in surprise. “Oh. And yet you’re bringing me.”

“Yes. You’re special.”

I chuckle, not sure what to make of his admission. “So, it’s your first time then. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He grins, his self-assurance back in full force. “Don’t you worry, angel, I can handle you. But I’ll admit, I’m a bit curious how it’ll feel, having you in my space like this.”

As we pull up to a sleek, modern high-rise, my jaw drops. “This is where you live?”

Liam nods, helping me out of the car. “Home sweet home. Ready for the grand tour?”

“Lead the way, O’Connor.”

We step into a lobby that looks like it’s been plucked from a luxury hotel. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers.

“Evening, Mr. O’Connor,” the concierge nods, eyeing me curiously.

“Hey, Tony,” Liam replies smoothly. “This is my girlfriend, Sophie.”

Girlfriend… I like the sound of that.

Does he mean for real or for pretend?

The elevator opens directly into his apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view toward the Manhattan city skyline. The space is open, modern, with sleek furniture and subtle pops of color.

“Wow,” I breathe. “This is...not at all what I expected.”

“Let me guess,” he laughs, “you were picturing neon beer signs and a foosball table?”

I raise my eyebrows, wandering into the living room. “Something like that. This is...tasteful.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he teases as he follows me. “I do have class. And enough money for a decorator. ”

I spot a few framed jerseys displayed on one wall. “I see you snuck in some hockey memorabilia after all.”

“Couldn’t resist,” he admits. “Want the full tour?”

I nod, taking it all in. “Absolutely. Show me where the magic happens, O’Connor.”

At my words, his eyes darken. He turns silent, watching me intently for a beat, then hums in a low voice, “That’s exactly what I intend to do, angel.” Without further warning, he swoops me into his arms. “How about we do the tour later?”

But it’s not really a question.

He carries me through a hallway and pauses at a door before pushing it open with his foot. The spacious room is dark save for the street lights coming through the large windows, casting shadows on a king-sized bed with a sleek, dark wood headboard. Slowly, he places me on the crisp white sheets, then lowers himself to me. His hands slide down my torso, and he pulls me against him. My heart hammers in my chest, the air leaving my lungs in one slow exhale.

How am I supposed to think with this boulder pressed against my abdomen?

“Breathe,” Liam whispers, his lips tracing a downward path on my neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “Put your arms around my neck, angel,” he murmurs against my lips. I obey, placing my hands on his wide shoulders, melting from the way he looks down at me with his icy blue eyes. I can feel his hard cock pressing against me, and I want to feel more of it.

“What happens next?” I ask, panting.

He looks at me with an irresistible grin. “We fuck, angel. Deep, hard. All night long.”

My insides melt as I remember how his body felt in mine, my arousal throbbing between my legs. We kiss for a long time, slowly at first, until it turns frantic. He flips us over, never letting me go, his hands placed firmly on my hips, so that I’m straddling his waist.

He lifts up and grabs my hair, pulling me down, then he bites my neck possessively. “Rock onto me, angel,” he breathes, grinding into me. I do as he says, our eyes locked. My body responds, quivering in delight.

He lifts us up and removes my sweater and jersey. Then he sits me up and reaches around me to unclip my bra, my breasts spilling out. His eyes drop, and he leans down, taking a nipple in his mouth, then the other. Slowly, he slides my pants and underwear down my legs, discarding them to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he rumbles in approval as he takes me in, spread on his sheets naked and vulnerable. I pant wildly as he stands up and takes off his clothes. “I’m going to slip into something more comfortable.” He smirks as he removes his briefs and reveals his dick, large and heavy between his legs. It’s engorged with dark, pulsating veins running down the length of it.

Leaning down, he digs into the pocket of his trousers, taking out a condom and placing it on the side table. He pushes me back down on the mattress, then leaves scorching kisses down my breasts and stomach, traveling lower and lower.

“Spread your legs wide for me. I want to taste you.”

I obey, and he flicks his tongue against my swollen opening, tracing his tongue up and down my slit, his finger finding my clit and rubbing it with his thumb. “Wider.”

My body rocks against his face, shuddering.

“You’re soaked.” He grabs the condom and rolls it on, then rises above me, positioning himself at my entrance. In one long stroke, he pushes forward, then pulls out. “Kiss me,” he breathes, then thrusts back in. He slowly eases himself in and out, his face contorted as if he is in pain.

“W…what’s wrong?” I stammer.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so good, angel. I can hardly hold it.” He closes his eyes, then thrusts back in again, slowly and deliberately. He moves in deep circles, stretching me, giving me pleasure I never knew was possible.

“You like that?”

“Oh, I do. Keep on going, big guy.”

He grabs my ankle and wraps my leg around his hip. He’s frying my brain. His hands find my ass, and he flips me over so that I’m straddling him again, his dick buried deep inside of me.

“Take what’s yours,” he says, his hands guiding my hips. But I hardly need guidance anymore. Our bodies begin to slap together, and I lurch forward, a wave ofrelease from deep within washing over me.

“Oh…fuck,” he groans, and begins to thrust harder. Then his eyes roll back, and he is still for a moment.

I collapse against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming against mine.