Chapter 29 Lincoln
LINCOLN
“Fuck,” I breathe as I drop my forehead to my arm that’s resting against the wall I just had Parker backed up against.
I fucked up.
I know that.
I should have insisted my leg was fine and sent her to bed.
It was obvious when she turned up soaking wet that she hadn’t had a good night, and yet I went and pushed. My need to know that her date went badly, that she didn’t want the guy she was meeting, was all-consuming.
And when I discovered it was a hookup, things only got worse.
Images of her rolling around in bed with another man were the only thing I could see.
Jealousy shot through me faster than I could control.
It fucking terrified me.
I know that Parker dates. I know that she sleeps with guys and moves on in the way I do with women. But it’s always been from a distance. She hasn’t been with anyone I know since high school. Hockey aside, she’s kept her life as separate from mine as possible.
If I’d have been signed to another team, we probably wouldn’t be a part of each other’s lives at all, and that thought is fucking horrifying.
Parker, despite being completely unaware, has always been one of my favorite people. The thought of going through life without her being there, even if it is at a distance, doesn’t sit right with me.
But suddenly, she’s closer. Closer than she’s ever been, and it’s reminding me of how everything used to be. How much I like hanging out with her. How much fun bickering with her is. How fucking hot she is even when she’s not trying.
Just like tonight.
Get it together, Storm.
She’s right.
We can’t do this.
She’s just starting a new job. The last thing she needs is to be tangled up with you.
Dragging in a couple of deep, ragged breaths, I will my body to cool down before pushing from the wall.
Not ready to crawl into bed, I walk out into the hallway, and the second I cross the threshold, my eyes dart to her door.
It’s closed.
Parker never closes her door, thanks to a prank Rett pulled on her years ago. The fact she’s done it now to put a barrier between us has a fresh wave of self-hatred racing through my veins.
My legs move me forward, and in only seconds, I’m standing before her closed door.
Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the handle and silently crack it open.
I hate the idea of her waking up in the night, seeing it closed and freaking out. I’ve already fucked up enough tonight.
I only push it open an inch. I don’t want to be caught—I just…
“Oh god.”
Panic sends my heart lurching into my chest the second her voice hits my ear, but when nothing else follows, I relax.
But then…
Holy shit.
Is she...?
Buzzing fills the air, and when another soft moan hits my ears, I know exactly what’s happening on the other side of the door.
Knowing that I got her so worked up earlier when I barely even touched her sends a fire shooting through my veins.
Desire descends and my cock swells again.
As much as I hate that she ran away from me, knowing that she immediately started getting herself off sure takes the sting out of it.
She whimpers, and I squeeze my eyes closed, picturing her lying on my guest bed with her sleep shorts kicked off and her legs spread.
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to let out a groan of my own.
I bet she looks so fucking beautiful right now.
Did she leave her top on, keeping her perfect tits covered, or has she stripped that off too, so she can tease her nipples?
Fuck. I bet they're hard and begging for attention.
My tongue sweeps across my bottom lip as I imagine lowering myself over her body and sucking one into my mouth.
God, she’d taste so fucking sinful.
So fucking perfect.
“Yesss,” she hisses, and I can’t help myself. Pushing my hand beneath the waistband of my boxers, I wrap my fist around my shaft, slowly dragging it to the end.
The fabric is already wet with precum, and I use it as lubricant as I begin fucking myself as her moans and whimpers begin to get louder.
She’s getting close, but goddamn, so am I.
I’ve barely touched myself and I’m on the verge of blowing.
I guess that’s what happens when you’ve wanted something for so fucking long, only to get the briefest of tastes. Not that I got a taste. Not really. But feeling her soft body pinned between mine and the wall was enough.
Okay, no. It was nowhere near enough.
I fear that when it comes to Parker, nothing will ever be enough.
“Oh god. Yes.”
I fall back against the wall beside her door, my face tipped to the ceiling and my eyes closed as I let my imagination run away with itself.
She isn’t in there alone; instead, she’s holding her legs open for me while I feast on her.
My cock jerks as my release surges ever closer.
Fuck, yeah.
I’m fucking her with two fingers, working her G-spot and making her wild with the need to fall over the edge as I suck on her clit.
Her body trembles violently as she chants my name over and over like a prayer.
She’s so fucking sweet. The best thing I’ve ever tasted.
“God, yes.”
I groan but keep my mouth on her, letting her use the vibrations to get her even closer.
“Right there. Right fucking there.”
“Come all over my face, babe. Show me what a good girl you are.”
“Oh, fuuuuck. Yessss.”
My own release slams into me as her cries fill the air between us, and I come in my boxers like a horny teenage boy sneaking around in the shadows, secretly getting his kicks.
“Oh my god,” she gasps before a loud thump makes me jump.
I’m ready to run, but when no movement follows, I relax back against the wall, assuming it was her vibrator hitting the floor.
I picture her spreadeagled on the bed, one arm thrown over her eyes as she fights to catch her breath.
The temptation to look is so strong. If I’m right, she won’t be able to see. I could do it unnoticed.
I shake my head.
Don’t be ridiculous, Storm.
My body begins to cool, as does the cum that’s now covering me. But it doesn’t make me move. Instead, I stay exactly where I am, craving more of Parker.
Time seems to stand still as I wait for something, anything.
But the second she groans and begins moving around her room, I realize it was nowhere near long enough.
With my boxers now sticking to me, I force myself to move and retreat to my own room, pushing the door closed.
I might not be scared of being locked in a room, but I do like the idea of leaving it open.
I’m confident that it’s an invitation she’d never take me up on, but the offer is there if she felt the need.
The thought of her sneaking in, in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with me, letting me roll over and tuck her into my body, makes my chest tighten.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t I give to find out what that’s like.
I’ve never spent the whole night with a woman before.
There’s only ever been one that’s made me even consider it as an option.
I’m more than happy when all the others get up and leave when we’re done.
They all know the deal before we get down to business, and they’re happy to agree to my terms.
But there is always an exception to the rules.
Stripping out of my boxers, I dump them in the laundry basket before marching toward my shower and turning it on.
I step inside, ready to shut myself away from everything and relax.
But it doesn’t happen. The solace I usually find under the powerful jets of water is nowhere to be found.
Irritated, I clean up and get out.
With a towel wrapped around my waist, I stop in front of the sink and stare at myself in the mirror, but the man staring back at me doesn’t have any good advice.
With a sigh, I tip my head back and blow out a breath.
Just play the game, Storm.
Trust that if the win is meant to be yours, then it will happen.
With a clean pair of boxers on, I grab my cell from the side and fall into bed.
I’ve got a whole stream of notifications, but there’s only one that really catches my eye, and seeing it makes my heart drop into the pit of my stomach.
My father has always been my hero. I looked up to him all my life. Even with him gone, nothing has changed.
But there is another man who has watched every single move I’ve made in my career.
He was there at all my important games, looking proud the day I got drafted, and when he can, he still comes and supports me, despite his son being on a different team.
Clark Donnelly is an incredible man, father, coach, and back in the day, player.
I have the utmost respect for him, so knowing what I just did with his daughter sends a rush of shame through me.
When it comes to Parker, no man will ever be good enough in his eyes. And there is no doubt in my mind that I’d be at the bottom of his list of ideal suitors for his daughter.
Superman: How’s the injury? Gutted you didn’t get to play the last two games. You were missed in that last one. Painful loss.
Linc: Hey, yeah, it sucks. So did watching my boys lose that badly. All part of the fun, though, huh? Injury is good, got this new kickass trainer who’s putting us all in our place.
Superman: Glad to hear it. So proud of our girl.
Linc: Me too. She’s a fantastic addition to the team.
Pride for what Parker has managed to achieve fills me.
When she first announced her ambition to be a trainer in the NHL, Clark, Rett, and I all looked at each other in concern.
Not because we didn’t think she had it in her.
We all knew, without a doubt, she did. But back then, there really were no women in the NHL.
I’m so fucking relieved to say that in the past few years, things have started to change for the better.
We now have a handful of female staff in all departments, and it’s steadily growing.
I know, like Parker said, that not everyone supports the change. But they’re wrong.
Women bring so much to our sport, and long may it continue. I want Parker and all the others to inspire the next generation, girls like Sutton and her team. Girls with a dream of playing a sport they love and making a difference in the world.
Superman: How’s she really doing? She was putting on a brave face when we spoke to her the other day, but we’re worried.
“Christ,” I mutter, dragging my hand down my face.
Linc: She’s okay. Parker is strong. She won’t let this bring her down.
Superman: She refused to let us help her get a new place. She said she’s staying with a colleague, but is she really okay with that?
“Fucking hell.”
Parker and I haven’t had the conversation about where she told her parents she was living, and I really fucking hate lying to Clark, even if it is by omission.
Linc: She’s really okay. She’s welcome to stay as long as she needs. Once the season’s over, she’ll have more time to secure a place and get moved.
My stomach knots at the thought.
She’s only been here a few days, but I already can’t imagine her not being here.
I love this apartment; it’s my safe haven from the crazy world on the outside. But with her here, it’s turned into a real home. There’s now life inside this place, and I love it.