35. Ethan
THIRTY-FIVE
ETHAN
We have three games this week, including a home game tonight. I’m swamped. It has only been a few months. I’m still familiarizing myself with the team and staff. I have to work twice as hard until we’re synchronized. The next game, the players, the organization, the playoffs—it’s always on my mind.
Except for right now.
I can’t stop thinking about Aurora and our baby. I find myself wanting to know how the meeting with her agent went. Is she eating? Does she still have morning sickness? Does she need anything? I wonder what she’s doing with Jackson.
I have a strong suspicion it’s the same I’d be doing if I was with her.
My thoughts move in that direction—to her candy taste and honey scent, to having her in my lap, to those damn expressive eyes as she peers up at me from her knees.
And God, the way she clings to me as if I’m hers. And I am. The little brat has me wrapped around her finger.
I’ve never been easily distracted by a woman. I’ve only ever focused on hockey. If it didn’t pertain to hockey, it wasn’t relevant.
There was a brief period of about two seconds when I considered devoting my time and attention to my wife, to salvaging our marriage.
But that was about as appealing as testicular cancer.
This thing with Aurora? It’s not physically possible to ignore. The loneliness of her absence intensifies with every passing hour.
I didn’t even sleep last night. I stayed awake, trying to resist the urge to text her while she was with Jackson. I catch myself mentally scouring my schedule for any opportunity to fly to New York to see her, which, considering I have eighty-two games in six months, seems highly unlikely.
Still, the thought of a distraction-free night in bed with her is tempting enough to warrant me making time.
“Seriously?” I glance down at the pulsing erection that fully supports the idea of Aurora sprawled naked beneath me. I have assistant coaches and managers, after all. I could convert those fantasies into reality and let them do my job—not a game, but a few practices won’t hurt. Right?
The moment I reach for my phone, I realize how utterly fucked I am.
Me: Come see me.
Baby girl: Not a hi, hello, how are you?
Me: You can tell me all that when I see you.
Baby girl: I’m with Jax. Aren’t you getting ready for the game?
Me: Tell him he has practice.
Me: Come see me. Now.
Baby girl: And you don’t have practice?
Me: I’ll have someone run the first half if you come see me.
Baby girl: At the arena?
Me: Yes, have Jackson show you my office.
A few minutes go by without another text, and my stomach knots with disappointment. She’s with Jackson and doesn’t want to see me.
I’m about to give up and toss my phone to the side when the cockblock himself texts me.
Captain Diva: Fuck off.
Me: I heard you missed team breakfast this morning.
Captain Diva: So?? I was balls-deep in your girl.
Me: Maybe your balls need a rest on the bench tonight.
Me: You have an hour. Don’t bring her through the locker room.
I have nothing against being seen with her, nor am I embarrassed by her, but I’d prefer to keep our relationship away from the team.
Having a woman in my office on a game day is not a good look, especially a swimsuit model dating my captain.
But I won’t lie—the forbidden aspect of this has ignited some taboo kink, as evidenced by the steel bar in my pants.
Baby girl: On our way *blowing kiss emoji*
My smile is fucking ridiculous.
Not even an hour passes before the most irresistible woman walks into my office.
Her hair is in a high ponytail, reminding me of the night we met. She wears a smaller version of Jackson’s jersey made into a dress, coming to her mid-thigh, along with those white high-top Converse she seems to love.
She’s young and carefree, every bit the temptation I have no business touching or wanting. Yet, my child is growing inside her, and honestly, I couldn’t be prouder of how epically I fucked up.
“Hi, hello. How are you? Lock the door,” I say in greeting, closing my laptop and setting it on the side table.
“Is this a booty call? In your office? Really, Ethan?”
I love the way she says my name. There’s always a hint of seduction or teasing in how she lets it roll off her tongue, as if she’s savoring it. I love it even more when she’s moaning and whimpering it.
“That depends.”
She drops her bag in a chair and saunters toward the leather Chesterfield couch I’m sitting on.
She bites her lip, her whiskey eyes full of flirtation. “On?”
I reach for her, grip her hips, and draw her between my open legs to kiss our baby.
“How quiet you can be.” I keep my voice low and guide her to straddle me.
Settling on my lap, she wraps her arms around my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair. She has these cute freckles along her nose and golden flecks in her brown eyes.
I stare at her and wonder how I got so fucking lucky.
“I’d do anything for you,” she whispers, her voice full of seduction.
She’s only flirting with me, but I’m pretty sure my heart stops. She scares the shit out of me.
Aurora having feelings for me—wanting and needing me—changes the game. I’m not ready for that, and I doubt she is either. She’s not leaving Jackson anytime soon, if ever.
He’s one manipulative and lovesick bastard. I struggle to grasp the outcome of this situation, but I already know I’m incapable of refusing her, Jackson or otherwise.
I give her ponytail a playful tug. “I want your address, schedule, and Ricky’s number before you go.”
She grinds her ass over my erection, and arousal curls low in my stomach.
“Sounds as if you’re gonna miss me, Blackwood.”
“Always. Now, kiss me. I’ve got about twenty minutes and want to spend the entire time buried in you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her pillowy lips are soft, and her tongue tastes like a Jolly Rancher.
I slide my hands up her silky-smooth thighs and over her curvy ass, lifting her dress to find a pleasant surprise.
“No underwear?” My lips slant into a pleased smirk upon hers. “My dirty girl.”
“I took them off before we left. They’re in my bag.”
She bites my neck while her fingers work my belt buckle. Her desire for me is a huge fucking turn-on, and my dick throbs.
“Fuck, I love you.” The words escape without a second thought, and my body tenses, panic flashing through me.
Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice the slipup. She lowers my zipper and continues to kiss my neck, and I exhale a shaky sigh of relief.
She frees me from my boxers. With her hand gripping my shaft, she notches the head of my cock at her entrance and slides me inside her warm, wet cunt.
Sucking air through my teeth, I hiss at the intensity of having her stretched around me. Next to my ear, her breath hitches, and she makes these hot as fuck whimpers with every inch she takes.
I fist the back of Jackson’s jersey for leverage and flex my hips to meet hers. “You like riding my cock, baby girl?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Her ass meets my thighs, and she releases a shuddering sigh. “You feel incredible.”
Goddamn, what is she doing to me? I’ll remember her words until I’m old and senile.
“Put your arms behind your back, baby. I need to fuck you.”
Without hesitation, she obeys, always eager to please me.
I bind her wrists in one hand and clasp the back of her neck with the other. “You’re my favorite thing. Don’t forget that.”
Because I’m about to fuck her as if she’s not.
Before she can respond, I pound into her, and she bites my shoulder to stay quiet. Thank fuck I have a suit coat to put over this shirt.
The noise of our bodies coming together with every powerful thrust is muffled by our clothes, leaving only the sounds of our pleasure.
“So tight. So wet. Fuck, you’re a dream.” I bite my lip, but as hard as I try, I can’t stop the shit that tumbles from my mouth. “This pussy was fucking made for me.”
She widens her knees to take me deeper. Her cunt gets wetter, her legs shake, and her hips writhe with my strokes. “Ethan,” she cries.
Jesus, the way she calls my name could make me come alone.
Knowing she’s close, that she’s loud when she comes, I grip her chin and throat and shove two fingers in her mouth, demanding, “Suck.”
Her body quakes, and her pussy locks around me, milking every inch of my cock. She whimpers and moans against my fingers, her teeth sinking into my skin. And fuck, my balls ache to unload.
On the brink of ecstasy, I bury my face in her neck. I gasp for air and shatter into a million pieces, never to be put back together the same again.
“Fuuuck…” I grit my teeth and slam into her one last time, then a few more while my dick jerks inside her.
I never want this to end.
We catch our breaths, coming down from the high, and my cock kicks with aftershocks. She rakes her fingers through my hair, and my chest swells with everything I’m desperate to avoid.
I take her face into my hands, lifting her lips to mine. “You’re fucking perfect.”
She returns my kiss. “So are you.”
My head is filled with wild, ludicrous words I fear will slip out.
Instead, I kiss her with those words on the tip of my tongue, pouring every ounce of emotion into her. I caress her arms, back, and tiny baby bump until we’re out of time, and she’s sliding on her underwear.
I tuck in my shirt and fasten my pants. “I like knowing your panties are soaked in my cum while you’re wearing his jersey.”
She stares at me, her mouth hanging open, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
The biggest grin ever spreads across my face. Damn, I’m going to miss her.