15. Shane #2
We make out like we can’t get enough of each other—and let’s be real, we can’t—until finally I’m fully erect again and ready to finish what we started. The pain in my shoulder slowly diminishes with every second that passes.
Lifting her hips, she reaches between her legs and grasps my cock in her fist. She slides my head through her still wet folds a few times, then places me at her entrance and sinks down my length.
We both moan as our mouths reconnect and she begins to ride me, grinding her hips down as one of my hands threads through her hair and the other wraps around her waist, holding her close.
We make love in the same position we did back in December, the same way that created this beautiful little star growing inside of her. “I love you, Angel.”
“I love you, Shane.”
It doesn’t take us long to tumble over the edge, a euphoric moment of ecstasy claiming us both. Her walls squeeze around my throbbing length as my balls tighten and we both come, moaning each other’s names on our lips.
We stay in this position for a while as we regain our breath. I glide my hand through her long blonde hair, all the way down her back as I let the smooth strands fall through my fingers.
“What happened exactly, Shane?” Her quiet voice fills the soundless room. “Your injury,” she clarifies when I don’t answer.
My injury is no secret. You can look it up online and find thousands of articles and videos about it.
But people tend to avoid the topic as if they’re afraid speaking about it will send me into a depression.
Yeah, I get it, I was the star athlete, the one with a bright future ahead of him.
The one who would go far and have a big name, even a hundred years down the line.
But then my injury ended my career—a career I worked my whole life toward.
I guess it makes sense that they would think that.
They assume that I’ll forever live with anger, that I’ll never get over my loss, that I believe my life is ruined for eternity.
And yeah, for a while I thought that. The doctors had said that the recovery would be successful and that I’d be getting back on the ice in no time.
Only I ended up not regaining full mobility and living with this aching pain that appears when I move too much or carry too much weight.
To the blind eye, everything seems fine. I can move it properly, lift my arm and swing it around. But then sometimes, a movement I’ve repeated thirty times throughout the day will cause my shoulder to stiffen, and sometimes it’s so intense I can barely move it.
When I neared the end of my rehab and still couldn’t shoot a puck properly without being in pain or my shoulder locking up, I knew it was the end of the line for me. I would never play to the best of my abilities ever again.
“It was a stupid accident mixed in with really shitty luck. A freak accident that shouldn’t have happened.
At least, not to the degree it did. We were at the Stanley Cup Finals with one minute to spare.
It was the first time my team made it that far, and we were all so excited.
We had it in the bag, it was finally our year.
We had a five-to-four lead on the other team, and we should have won, we were going to win. ”
I swallow past the lump in my throat as the memories of that night resurface.
“I had the puck and was skating through the offensive zone with their two defensemen on my back as well as two of their forwards. I was looking for an opening to send it off to one of my teammates when I lost my footing.” I sigh, closing my eyes as the scene comes crashing back into my mind.
“I don’t know how or what I did wrong, I just stumbled and next thing I knew I was flying into the boards shoulder first. I knew something was wrong instantly with the pain I felt.
As a hockey player, you often get smacked into walls or fall on the ice.
It’s normal. We just get back up and shake it off like it never happened.
But the pain I felt, I knew I was really injured.
” I kiss the top of her head, needing a moment.
Aubrey stays quiet the whole time, her fingers tracing over my skin as she listens to every word that I say like the peaceful angel she is. She doesn’t pressure me to go on or interrupt me every two seconds with questions, she just listens.
“After hitting the board, I fell to the ice on my chest. The others were so close behind me that my fall caught them off guard, and before I could manage to pull myself up completely, their bodies piled over mine, crushing me back down to the ground. I felt something snap, followed by a sharp pain in my back, and then it just went numb.” As I talk about it, my shoulder throbs slightly, like it’s revisiting the past alongside me.
“I ended up with a full-thickness complete rotator cuff tear, a complete bicep tendon tear at the shoulder, and a scapula fracture, which shouldn’t have happened.
We have paddings made to protect us. One, yeah that’s possible, it happens.
But all three at once? No. It had never been heard of in the NHL.
” I shake my head. “Like I said, a freak accident.”
“What’s the last one?” My Angel’s soft voice travels to my ears. “The… Specula fracture. I’ve never heard of that.” I chuckle at her failed attempt to say the word. “Don’t laugh at me, okay. I tried,” she says smacking me lightly in the chest, but I feel her smile against my skin.
“It’s a scapula fracture, basically a broken shoulder blade.”
“Is that why you have the scar on the back of your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers trail over to the top of my shoulder, where my second scar begins, then down the side. It’s faded over the years, but Aubrey has seen it before, so she knows exactly where it is. “And this one is from the rotator cuff and bicep tear?”
“Mhm.” I nod, nuzzling her hair with my nose as I inhale her scent.
“What happened after?” she asks about the game.
“I was taken off the ice immediately and brought to the hospital, but my team was still pretty shaken up after the incident. We weren’t playing our best, clearly not focused enough, and the opposing team scored a goal.
We went into overtime, and they scored again, winning the Stanley Cup.
” I blamed myself for a long time over our loss.
If I hadn’t gotten hurt, we would have won. But I know I can’t think that way.
“That’s why the guys said it was for you,” she murmurs. “When they won at the end of the season, they said they won the cup for you.”
I smile, remembering that moment. “Yeah, they made a little cheer in the locker room about it before the game too. It was very moving.” I tighten my hold on her. “Although my favorite part of that day was you hugging me. That was the real win for me that night.”
“I was so nervous to hug you, but it also would have been really odd if I hadn’t since everyone else was doing it.” She giggles, her arm circling my waist.
“Well, I’m glad you did. You smelled so fucking incredible that night.” I still remember how hard I instantly got when she was in my arms with her scent filling my veins. I had to shift my hips slightly so that she wouldn’t feel my erection against her.
“Oh my God! Is that why you were sniffing me!? You had me freaking out because I thought I smelled bad!” Her giggles turn to a full-blown laugh against my chest as she smacks it, and soon, I’m laughing loudly along with her.
“Angel, even if you tried your hardest to smell bad, you never would. And honestly, even if you succeeded, I’d probably still end up loving it.” I kiss her forehead, chuckling against it.
She looks up at me and presses her still-swollen lips to mine once, before resting her head back down. I’m still inside of her, although I’m no longer hard. I just like being there, knowing a part of me is still connected to her, and I think she might like it too.
With a soft and content sigh, she brings the topic back to our previous conversation. “Do you miss it? Playing.” There’s a hint of something in her voice that I can’t quite pick up on. It almost sounds like uncertainty.
“I do. Every day,” I tell her honestly. “It was my dream from the moment I could walk. I did everything in my power to be the best, and I was.” I’m not saying that to be cocky, it’s just stats. I was a damn good player.
“I know you are. The guys often talk about it,” she admits, and I love that she didn’t use the past tense like I did, like I’m still that superstar hockey player with the crazy talent that no one had ever seen before. “It must be hard for you to coach them…”
I shrug my uninjured shoulder. “Sometimes, but it’s a bittersweet feeling. Watching them play and not being able to join them definitely sucks. But I also love coaching them. I love helping them reach their highest potentials and watching them thrive.”
“Do you wish things were different? That you could go back and change something to prevent yourself from getting injured?” Ah, now I see where her uncertainty is coming from.
I untangle my fingers from her hair and take her face between my palms, forcing her to meet my eyes.
“No, I don’t,” I say truthfully. “Because if I were still playing, or nearing the end of my career, I wouldn’t be here.
I’d still be out in Washington, or anywhere else across the state.
If I was still playing, I never would have met you.
I wouldn’t be lying here, with you in my arms and our Little Star growing in your belly. ”
I kiss her as she smiles against my lips. “So, no. I wouldn’t go back, and I don’t regret a thing, Aubrey. Because even if it took ten years, at the end of the day, it brought me you.”