Butterfly: A dark college hockey romance

PROLOGUE – Mason

She was the most beautiful girl I’d seen in my entire life.

And I wanted her more than I wanted anything.

I watched as she spun around and around in another man’s arms, laughing on the dance floor at my father’s wedding. She was tiny and delicate, a pale, black-haired butterfly in a blue dress with hair like satin and skin like silk. And as my eyes followed her, I almost lost my footing—like the earth had tilted off its axis and even gravity had been thrown into chaos.

At eighteen, I’d already been with dozens of girls around my age, and a handful of older women, too. All gorgeous, all sexy, all eager to please. All entertaining until I came, and then immediately forgotten. Honestly, I was fucking bored with all of them. It didn’t bode well for my future. But this little slip of a thing caught my attention and held it like no one ever had. And even though I was only eighteen, I already knew no one would ever captivate me the way she did.

I wanted her.

I would have her.

Ignoring the fairy lights hanging from the trellis, the candles and flowers surrounding the pool at our family home, and the laughing, chattering guests, I focused on the guy she was with. Some young, skinny jackass who clearly didn’t realize what a loser he was, or how undeserving he was of the perfection in his arms. It wouldn’t take much to scare him off.

I was on my way to do so, and to get my hands on her tight, sweet, supple body, when a hand fell onto my shoulder and gripped hard.

“Mason,” my father said.

“Paul.” I’d stopped calling him Dad a long time ago. He’d stopped being a dad after Mom had died five years ago and he’d abandoned me to his grief. And here he was, abandoning me again for some gold-digger he’d found and fallen for.

Well, fuck him.

Paul coughed. He hated when I called him by his first name.

“I’d like you to spend some time getting to know your new stepmother and stepsister. Anna’s still mingling with guests, but I’d like us to spend the rest of the summer together. And I see that you’ve spotted your stepsister, Leslie.”

My whole body went cold. I ripped my eyes off the butterfly in blue to turn and look at him. “What do you mean?”

He nodded toward the dance floor, face grim. “That’s your new stepsister.”

This time, I did stumble.

Stepsister.

My fantasy of introducing myself to her, seducing her, and seeing what her body looked like underneath that blue dress disappeared quickly as reality intruded. She was my stepsister. Not only could I not have her—never have her—she was the daughter of the woman I hated, the woman who was trying to replace my dead mother. I wanted nothing to do with this new family my father was assembling in an attempt to forget the love of his life who had given him everything.

My mother had been everything to me, until the car accident. Then she’d just been…gone. And my father acted like he’d forgotten.

I shoved those thoughts aside, continuing to watch her, my stepsister, the lust and awe burning into ash.

“Listen, Mason. I know I’m not your favorite person, and you’re angry at me for remarrying, but I’m telling you—treat our new family right, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” He squeezed my shoulder again, and I tried not to flinch. “You hear me?”

“I hear you,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Good.” He lifted a hand to his mouth. “Leslie, come join us.”

The butterfly paused, saying something to her partner. He kissed her—a light peck, but seeing his lips against hers made me want to break something.

I couldn’t help but stare at her bare legs as she made her way toward us. Even walking, she looked like she was dancing.

When she reached us, she stared up at me, her dark eyes soft and curious.

The ground threatened to start spinning again.

I ignored it—and the pain in my chest at knowing this perfect creature wouldn’t be mine. I’d always been good at projecting guilt and externalizing blame—I’d learned it from my father, after all. So it didn’t take much to shift my frustration at the universe into anger at her. This was her fault. She didn’t have to be so innocently seductive, such a forbidden temptation.

Was it a little crazy to blame my new stepsister for wanting her? Sure. But it would save me.

“Leslie,” my father greeted her warmly, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her on the cheek. And even though I knew his affection toward her was nothing more than fatherly, I wanted to rip him away from her.

“Hi Paul,” she said fondly. Her voice was high and clear, wrapping around me with a sweetness that stabbed at my chest.

“Leslie, I’d like you to meet someone. This is Mason, my son.”

She tilted her head back to look up at me. Her face was warm and friendly. “I guess that makes you my stepbrother, doesn’t it!”

I caught myself licking my lips as I stared at hers, pink and full and begging for my cock. Instead, I laughed bitterly. “I see you get your intelligence from your mother.”

She reared back, offended. “Excuse me, what did you just say to me?”

“Mason,” my father warned.

I shrugged, showing her my teeth. “Sorry.”

Glaring, she shrugged, mirroring me. “Apology not accepted.”

I laughed despite myself. An aggressive butterfly, then.

Before she could snap at me again, Anna, her mother, appeared next to us. My father put his arm around the buxom blonde as well.

Leslie must take after her father, whatever had happened to him.

“Oh, I see you two have met!” Anna trilled happily. “I’m so glad. Mason, Leslie just graduated from The Brooklyn School of the Arts. Leslie, Mason is about to start his freshman year at Harvard. But you’ll both be home this summer, so Mason, I hope you can show her around town and give her the lay of the land.”

“Oh, I can give her the lay of the land, all right,” I said smoothly.

Leslie’s cheeks turned pink. “Mom, I thought we talked about this. I don’t want to spend the summer in Westchester. Bea said I could stay with her and her parents in Harlem. I’ll be closer to the dance studio that way…”

“Leslie! You spend all year with Bea, completely focused on dance. Don’t you want to spend some time with your family? Don’t you miss me?” her mom wheedled.

So she was a dancer. That explained the toned thighs, perfect posture, and ethereal way she moved.

It didn’t explain my desperate need to rip that dress off her and get my mouth between those toned thighs.

It wasn’t going to happen.

I wanted her gone, before I did something that we’d both regret.

“Excuse me,” I said. “But I need to be somewhere right now.”

“But we haven’t even gotten to the toasts yet!” Anna protested.

My father stared at me.

I nodded my head toward Tiffanie, my on-again, off-again girlfriend I’d forgotten on the side of the dance floor the moment I’d seen Leslie dancing. She was glaring at us, mouth pinched in a frown.

“I’ve been a bad boyfriend and left my date alone. She deserves some of my time, no?”

Anna relaxed, smiling. “Oh, that’s nice. Young love,” she trilled. “Maybe you can double-date with Leslie and her boyfriend, Spencer.”

There was no way in hell I’d be doing that.

From the expression on Leslie’s face, she felt the same way.

“Nice to meet you, Lily,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice to meet you too, Jason,” she retorted, and as I walked away, I couldn’t help but smile at her attempt at a power play.

But my smile dropped off my face as I remembered that was the only time we’d ever be playing.

I grabbed Tiffanie by her arm and dragged her off with me without saying anything.

“Where have you been?” she asked in what I’d always thought was a sexy voice until now.

I had a growing fear I’d never think a single voice was sexy if it wasn’t high and clear and sounded like bells over water.

I didn’t bother to answer her. “I need you to suck my cock.”

“Of course, baby,” she said.

I dragged her into the pool house, ignoring the other guests, the sound of metal on glass as the toasts began. I ignored everything as Tiffanie got on her knees, unzipped my pants, and pulled my hard cock out.

“You were that excited thinking about me, weren’t you, baby?” she crooned, and I didn’t bother to correct her.

I wasn’t hard for her.

I was hard for a butterfly who would remain just outside of my grasp, unless I set fire to her wings.

As Tiffanie’s mouth worked my cock, I fisted her hair, trying to focus. Usually her blonde, carefully-constructed waves and huge tits did it for me, but not tonight. I didn’t want blonde curls and curves, I wanted straight black hair and a lithe, petite body. So I imagined Leslie in front of me instead, her dark hair falling around her shoulders as her pert mouth gave me pleasure. I imagined coming down her tight little throat, on her tiny, perky tits, or on her perfect, beautiful face.

Pleasure rushed through me at the thought, followed by anger.

Some people pinned butterflies to keep them close.

I was going to make this one fly far, far away.

After all, she was the most beautiful girl I’d seen in my entire life.

I wanted her more than I wanted anything.

And I hated her for it.