Chapter 7
7
Jack
J ust like I’d thought: Aviva was a motherfucking liar.
I knew liars. Well. My eldest brother, Micah, had lied when he’d told me as a kid that he was coming back for me, that he wouldn’t leave me with our abusive father.
My mother had lied when she said she’d protect us, no matter what.
My father had lied when he said he loved us. When he hadn’t told us about his other family.
The only person who had never lied to me was Coach Jensen. He’d seen me skating on an ice rink at the age of thirteen, skated up to me, and said, “Kid, you’ve got real talent. Trust me, and I’ll make sure you go far in life and get everything you want.”
He’d kept his promise. Interceded with my parents, gave me a place to stay when shit at home got too horrible to be there, paid for all my hockey gear and training because god knew my father wouldn’t fork over the money. He encouraged me, pushed me to be my best, and when he got the job at Reina, recruited me to come here. Together, we’d built a team, a family. I owed everything to him.
But as I stared down at the girl trapped in my arms, captivated by the angry tears sliding down her cheeks, I wondered—for just a moment—if I’d missed something. Because my internal lie detector was silent.
No. She was lying; I was too distracted by her pussy, that was all.
Some coaches were leeches who fucked with their athletes, but I knew Coach. He’d never once touched me, never even hinted at it. And Asher had always been sullen, angry, secretive. He’d had his own agenda. It stood to reason his fucking sister would be the same.
“Let me go,” she repeated, bringing me back to the present.
I really should’ve. But despite her conniving bullshit, I wanted her. Her goddamned body, the sounds she’d made when she’d come, even her tears were a revelation. She smelled like sweat and fear and my come, like sex, sweet and tart. That goddamned apples and honey smell, it would haunt me forever.
I hadn’t even gotten my cock in her tight pussy, and I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone. It was like I was two men: one, feral, ravenous, determined to punish her and ruin her for anyone else. Turn her into my little fucktoy and humiliate her as I defiled every one of her holes. It was the least she deserved. The other, territorial and weirdly protective, like she belonged to me and I needed to keep her safe, be gentle around her inexperience.
I ignored that second man; it was an absurd impulse. I didn’t want to protect her, I wanted to break her.
And I was going to. After all, she was mine to break .
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I informed her. “You have two choices. One option: I text Coach and tell him you broke into the arena, and he calls the police. You get arrested, you lose whatever scholarship you probably have, and get a permanent mark on your record. Say goodbye to your dreams and goals. On top of that, I’ll make sure everyone here at Reina and in the hockey world at large knows your brother tried to blackmail the coach. The NHL doesn’t take kindly to shit like that.”
“They won’t believe you,” she argued.
“Oh, they’ll believe me. You have no evidence. It’s your word against mine. This university, this city, loves both of us. But you? You’re an outsider, a stranger, trying to blow up the Frozen Four for us. Who do you think they’ll listen to, Aviva? You and your loser brother, or Jack Hat Trick Feldman?”
Her shoulders slumped. She knew I was right.
So I continued. “Now, there is an option B: I don’t tell Coach Jensen, I don’t call the police. In return, you’re mine. You’re going to become my filthy little fucktoy. Whatever I want, you give me. Anytime, anywhere, any which way.”
“Absolutely not.”
God this woman. I couldn’t help but admire her—here I was, threatening to destroy her life, and she still stood strong against me.
But as strong as she was, I was stronger.
I released her with one arm to pull my phone out of my pocket.
“Cool. I’ve got Gehenom PD’s number saved in my phone. It comes in handy to have a few cops in your pocket.”
Especially with my ties to Vixen and Vice. Getting the local police force to turn the other way and ignore what was happening on campus came in handy. So did having a billionaire half-brother with a guilt complex; Marcus might not agree with my tactics, but he’d keep me out of trouble.
Aviva grabbed for my phone, but it was easy to hold it over her head.
“Nuh uh, little thief,” I scolded. “I won’t fall for that pickpocket shit twice. Siri, call Gehenom PD.”
The phone started to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Before it could ring a third time, Aviva spoke up. “Okay! Okay!”
Fuck yeah.
I pressed end on the call. “Okay, what?”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll be my filthy little fucktoy?”
She nodded.
“Say it,” I ordered.
“I’ll be your f—” she stumbled over the words, her whole body trembling.
“Say it, or I call them back,” I threatened.
“I’ll be your filthy little fucktoy .” She spat out the words. If she could’ve killed me with her eyes alone, she would’ve. Her anger was stunning.
“Hearing you say that makes my cock hard.” I shoved my hips against hers, grinding against her soft, bare stomach, so she could feel the evidence.
She was mine. For as long as I wanted her, I could do whatever the hell I wanted to her. Every dark impulse I’d ever had, everything I’d ever fantasized about, I could do to her perfect, soft body. And make sure she loved all of it, even as she hated me.
Mine.
Giving into impulse, I grabbed her hair, tugging her head back, and kissed her. It was brutal, punishing, and at first, she resisted. I bit her lip as a reminder, and she opened her mouth. Taking advantage, I licked at her mouth, exploring her taste and reveling in her reluctant submission. I wanted to roar in triumph.
Instead, I broke the kiss. I had early morning practice, and besides, I was too tempted to fuck her pussy now, when what I really wanted to do was build the anticipation for me and the fear for her. I had all the time in the world.
“This is gonna be fun,” I told her, releasing her and retrieving my shirt and the ID card she’d stolen from me.
Aviva stumbled backward and fell on her ass, and I had to force myself not to catch her.
Instead, with one long last look at her cowering, half naked on the floor, I turned to go.
“See you soon, princess,” I promised, and, her panties in my pocket, I opened the door and exited, letting it swing shut on her furious sobs.