CHAPTER 17
SASHA
I couldn't get her out of my head, the feel of her off my skin, the taste of her off my lips.
I went down on her again before she left this morning and the feel of her pussy on my tongue, her wet all over my face was making me hard under my hockey pants.
I didn't even want to wash my face. I wanted to smell her all day.
Lucy and I were on another level after last night. She was mine and damn, did it feel amazing. Even if my legs felt like jello on the ice, I didn't care. She was fiery but kind, sexy in an unpretentious way and fun. Man, was Lucy fun. We giggled and flirted and touched all night and day.
We touched. I couldn't believe I let the word “yearn” escape from my lips when she was in my presence. But I did. I yearned for the touch I was never given. Affection is all I've ever wanted and she showered me with it.
I only let her leave on the promise I would see her as soon as she could.
I respected that she had a life and put her family first. I was jealous, but respected it.
There was just this urgent need to be around her that settled deep in my bones.
Every fiber in my being wanted take care of her even if she didn't need it.
Because she didn't. Lucy didn't need me to take care of her. She never made me feel like I had to be the vicious brute, always protecting her. She took away the pressure. The weight off my shoulders was gone whenever she was near.
“How you feeling, Sarge?” Coach called after some drills.
“Feeling good, Coach.” Feeling amazing, feeling higher than a fucking kite.
“You must have gave it to her good after how she acted in the tunnel.” Reeds poked at me.
“Did you show her your stick?” Jonesy giggled.
“Did she touch your pucks?” Colton laughed.
“Did you score?” Brennan skated past.
“Yeah, yeah, real fucking funny.” I brushed them off.
This was all part of the sport. Even an only child could have brothers. I left my old team, my old family behind, and these were the ones I had now. They were all pretty good guys and sometimes, the teasing was how they showed it.
Murph skated over to me shaking his head. “How's that head of yours?”
“Still attached.” I took off my helmet that had been irritating the stitches and adjusted the little piece of gauze I placed in there to prevent the rubbing.
“Good to hear it. Good to hear it.” Murph stayed by my side.
It felt like he had more to say, but didn't.
“You OK, Murph?”
“Yeah, yeah. I– Hell, I don't know. Seeing your girl last night just brought up feelings.”
I patted him on the back. I skated against him for years but I didn't know his wife that died from breast cancer. I could feel pain inside him, but I didn't know what else to do to make it better.
“Just, please, recognize the worth of that woman. Before it's too late.” His voice broke and he skated off the ice. He ran down into the locker room before I could get a word out.
I saw coach about to yell at Murph for leaving practice but I think he could tell. Murph never missed a game even when she was sick, even after she died. He put his head down and buried himself in the sport. But at what cost?
“What's his problem?” Jonesy didn't stop stick handling the puck as he skated to my side. He used me as an obstacle even when I was standing still.
“He's a man who still loves his wife.” I rubbed at my chest, somehow feeling an ache.
The thought of Lucy's fibroids entered my mind. Cancer entered my mind. I couldn't tell her when I heard the news, but it scared the shit out of me. Sure, the Doctor said it wasn't likely for them to be cancerous, but not likely isn't a definite no.
I didn't care if she was scarred and disfigured, couldn't fuck for weeks or months. I didn't care if I had to wait on her hand and foot as long as she was OK. As long as our future was a possibility.
I wanted a future with her.
“Sarge! Get your head out of your ass and skate!” Coach yelled from somewhere.
I moved my feet and got with the program. We went hard and it felt good. We edge trained and checked, we played keep away and stick skills. Inside edge drills, puck scooping, partner figure 8s, 2 on 2's, defensive skating and good old fashioned blue line to blue lines.
My body was still tense no matter how many times I came. And boy, had I come. All night we fooled around like kids touching each other for the first time. I barely slept and now I didn't know how to sleep without her in my bed, it was going to feel empty.
“Alright hit the showers.” The whistle blew.
A collective sigh of relief washed over the team. We got into the locker room and the first thing I did was check my phone.
Lucy: I'm home. Thanks for a great night, I'm exhausted!
I could feel my face light up at her text. Fuck it if the guys could see. There were so many times I'd wanted this very moment. There was always this need for something more than the hard scrape of the ice that had been my mistress for so long.
Me: My face still smells like your pussy.
She didn't text back. I hoped she was just busy and my blunt confession didn't scare her away. It was one thing to do those things to her, it was another to text about it.
I pulled off my shirt and caught sight of the bruise on my inner bicep.
Lucy had marked me like a little wolf and I stared at it.
Warmth washed down my body at the thought of it.
I wanted to take a picture of it, keep pushing on it so it never left me, get the fucking thing tattooed so it would be there forever.
It was proof of her passion, her need of me.
I got in the shower, finally washing her smell off of me, thinking of her body.
It was a good body. I had been with skinny girls, fit girls and fat girls.
But Lucy, she was curvy in all the fun places.
She was the kind of girl with a heft to her.
A warmth that made my cock hard just thinking about her.
Her tits were so soft, her smile was so naughty. She fit beside me perfectly.
“Ugh” I let my head flop against the tile in the shower.
How was I going to wait a week to see her again?
“You OK, Sarge?” Colton walked to the shower next to me.
“Just thinking of my girl. I won't see her until we get back from travel.”
“The wife likes her. She is going to refinish this ugly ass cabinet Nina won't stop talking about. It fucks things up for me really. I told her she could put it in the house if she refinished it, knowing she would never have time with her job. Now I'm going to have to stare at the damn thing.”
“That sucks for you.” I laughed.
“Yeah, it does. But good luck with that man. I hope it works for you. She seems to make you skate better.”
“Yeah, she does.” I wasn't going to deny it. She lit a fire in me and that translated on the ice.
I was done showering and made my way back to my cubby, just hoping she would text back. But the only notification was from my mother.
Matka: Coming over for dinner tonight?
Me: OK. I'll see you at 6.
Six o'clock rolled around and there was still no text from Lucy. Now, I was starting to worry at my mother's house. She was telling me about her work at the soup kitchen and I couldn't stop staring at my phone. If I didn't watch it she would steal it from me and smack me over the head with it.
“Did you hear what I said Sasha?”
“Huh? Yes, sorry. You peeled thirty pounds of potatoes. That must have been difficult.”
I was used to listening to my mother with one ear and then scrolling on my phone with the other.
“Where are you today? Did that hit knock your brain loose?” She tilted my chin up to look at the stitches.
“Sorry.” I was about to tell her about Lucy but I closed my mouth real quick. It was best not to say anything until we were a little more out of the new phase. “I just didn't sleep a lot last night. Too amped up after the hit.”
Total lie. I was too amped up because of Lucy, because she wore my damn T-shirt, because she tasted like mine.
“Yes, well, I would have murdered him, but that is just me.” She stuck a sharp knife into a golumpki that had been in the oven for hours, the smell permeating the house.
“I'm sure you would have.”
My mother had a dangerous side. Maybe it was her upbringing with holes in her shoes and not enough food to eat.
Maybe it was having to raise two children basically by herself while she moved from state to state with my father in the military.
Maybe it just who she was. But when she said she would have murdered Luca, I couldn't tell if she was joking around or dead serious. Or maybe I didn't want to know.
“Erica!” She screamed so suddenly I jumped. “Dinner is done! Out here now!”
My little sister rolled out of her room with the permanent scowl on her face. She looked stoned or fresh out of tears.
“What's up with you?” I looked at her, disheveled.
“Nothing, what's wrong with you?” She pushed at my stitches with her fingers.
“Ouch!” I yelped and twisted her wrist.
“Enough! The two of you are endless. Sit, eat!” She demanded.
The three of us gathered around the table. Hot toddies in mugs for Erica and I to drink with dinner while mom had a vodka, straight.
“So, talk.” She took a sip and started to cut into her golumpki.
I felt like I was ten years old again. Her demand of talk was her way to signal to us that she wanted to know about our day.
Erica and I looked at each other, staring with daggers at the other to go first.
“Sasha will go first.” My mother didn't even look up from her food.
“Well, we won the game last night.” I shoved food in my mouth. There was no way in hell I wanted to bring up Lucy for it to be picked apart. “Erica, how is your life going?”
“Fine. I have nothing to contribute.” She started eating as well.
Just then my phone buzzed. I ripped it out of my pocket and a wave of relief washed over me. It was Lucy.
Lucy: Sorry it took so long, I fell asleep when I got home and just woke up! I slept all day! I hope you've taken a shower since your last text.