Chapter 14
It’s been almost a week since that kiss with Audrey and we’ve avoided each other completely since then. I go to practice, come home and hide in my room without seeing her. Then, I go to the two home games we have without running into her. I also haven’t watched her shows even though I still have the notification on. I really need to turn that off.
We are back on the road, in the locker room doing our pregame rituals for the game against Arizona. My phone rings and it’s my mom calling. I’ve always been close with my parents, and I worry that she’s calling with bad news because she should know I’m getting ready for a game, but the schedule can be hard to follow and sometimes she forgets.
“Hello?” I answer, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Charlie, my sweet boy, how are you?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes? Why wouldn’t it be?”
I breathe out a sigh of relief, “Because I’m getting ready to play a game.”
“Oh, oops, I’m sorry I could’ve sworn you had today off.”
“It’s okay, anything important going on?” Collee, our captain looks at me with a concerned look that I wave off. He’s no stranger to family drama so I understand him being concerned right away when it comes to people having phone calls from family.
“Not really I was calling to tell you that I ran into Tabitha, and she asked about you. She’s such a sweet girl Charlie, I just don’t understand what happened.”
My blood runs cold at the mention of my ex. I never told my mom the full story, just that things didn’t work out with us so of course she thinks Tabitha is a “sweet girl.”
“It doesn’t matter now, it’s over. I’ll call you after our game, okay?”
“Okay sweetie, love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hang up and I notice my hands shaking thinking about Tabitha trying to worm her way back into my life through my mom. She would pull something like that since being sneaky to try and get what she wants is her MO. I used to think she was genuine, but now I know there’s nothing genuine about that woman and I’m glad I saw the truth before there was no turning back.
“Mann, tell the team who’s starting tonight,” Coach yells out. It’s a ritual that someone on the team lists the starters, but my brain is suddenly somewhere else, and I try to shake it off.
I list the five guys, one of which is myself, who will be starting, plus the sixth being our goalie. I don’t do it with as much enthusiasm that’s expected, but no one says anything to me about it.
We file out; Dumont nudges my shoulder with his as we walk through the tunnel out to the ice.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah, just tired.”
He sends a knowing smirk my way, “Audrey keeping you up?”
I shake my head, “Nope, we avoid each other, it’s like she’s not even staying with me.”
“Is that because of you or her?”
I shrug, “Both.”
He regards me, and I can feel him wanting to ask more. Dumont is friendly and overly curious. I’m sure Audrey talks to Chandler about how we aren’t on the best terms. She may have even told her about the kiss, both of them, and maybe Dumont knows. I’m not going to stand around gossiping with him about it. Anything that’s going on or not going on between Audrey and me is our business.
As soon as my blades touch the ice my single focus is the game we are about to start. Unfortunately, the short conversation with my mom lingers in the back of my mind along with the annoyance that comes with anything to do with my ex.
I’m on the ice with the rest of my line during the national anthem. It’s over before I know it and we are getting in position for puck drop. Our center, Collee, wins the face off and then we are all skating across the ice toward the other goal. Collee passes the puck to me, and I miss so the other team is able to snag it, rushing toward our goalie, Colver. He deflects their shot, but I’m internally beating myself up for missing the pass.
As the game continues, I fuck up more and more. Each shift there’s something. Either I miss a pass or get hit too hard into the boards because I’m not paying attention. I’m a mess. As much as I want my head in the game there is too much distracting me. The conversation with my mom and honestly, the shit with Audrey has me more fucked up than I realize.
After the first period we all go into the locker room with the game at zero-zero. Everyone is buzzing with energy, just itching to get the first goal of the game. I can feel it and normally I would be the same, but today I’m just not.
“Mann,” Coach snaps at me. “I don’t know where your head is but get it out of there and back with us or I’m going to pull you from your line.”
“Yes Coach,” I reply.
He moves on and continues to talk strategy for the next period, the eighteen-minute intermission goes by quickly. Right before we go back out on the ice, I decide to check my phone because I must be a glutton for punishment. Not only is there the notification letting me know that Lacey is online, but it’s the text that makes my heart stop for just a moment.
Audrey: You might want to get your shit together, so you guys actually have a shot at winning.
I smile knowing that she’s watching and not only that, she’s noticed me and how I’m playing. Even though it’s shitty. My mind instantly thinks about the fact that she’s watching and on cam, so she’s doing her hockey show. If that’s not some motivation to play a bit better than I don’t know what is. Though, I wish she was performing for me.
I hate how we left things, or rather how I left things. She felt too good underneath me, her mouth on mine. Body soft and warm. I could feel her wanting more from me. The way she sucked the cum from my finger, the smell of her arousal in the room. I even thought I wanted more for a moment.
Then the fear came in, like it always does. I don’t want to fuck anything up by not being able to be what she expects. I know how I come across, I know the perception she has of me sexually, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.
I haven’t fucked anyone since my ex. A couple blow jobs here and there, but that’s it and even that is few and far between. I just can’t do it. I know Audrey would want to have sex and I just can’t give that to her. So, avoiding her seems like the reasonable response. Immature? Maybe, but reasonable in my mind.
We head back out onto the ice, and I have some new motivation and it’s not from my coach. I end up making the first goal of the game and my teammates all skate up to hug me after my celly. My first thought is wondering what Audrey’s reaction is.
We end the game two-to-one with my teammate McQuaid getting the winning goal and avoiding overtime within the last ten seconds of the game. The locker room is buzzing with excited energy as we storm in on a high from the narrow win. McQuaid is being obnoxious about his winning goal, as he usually is anyway. I’ll admit it’s deserved tonight.
“We are going out to celebrate!” McQuaid announces.
“The fuck you are, you have a plane to be on at six in the morning,” Coach grumbles.
“C’mon, we can rally,” McQuaid argues.
“I don’t want to know about it. And don’t miss the plane,” Coach shakes his head.
“Celebrate when we get back home,” Collee tells our teammate.
McQuaid has a sly smile stretched over his face as he comes over to Collee to speak directly to him, not the entire team. “I plan to celebrate by locking my little bunny in a room with just me to do whatever I want to her.”
Collee scoffs, “Good luck with that, Dumont and I will always find a way to be included. Chandler prefers it that way.”
“We’ll see about that,” McQuaid walks over to his stall, and I laugh under my breath at their interaction. How the three of them share Chandler still baffles me. I couldn’t imagine ever doing that, it seems too complicated.
Before I head into the showers, I glance at my phone and am shocked to see another text from Audrey.
Audrey: Good job. Glad something made you play a bit better. *smile emoji*
Charlie: Thinking about what you might be doing if we won definitely helped.
I throw my phone down before she can respond, unsure how she will feel about my flirtation after what happened and my response to it. It’s just so easy to say things and be confident with her through a screen, either texting or videos and it’s frustrating.
After I’ve showered, changed into my suit, and sitting on the team bus waiting to leave, I finally check my texts and smile.
Audrey: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything.
Audrey: Lacey may have done something very special for your goal, though. *wink emoji*
Charlie: I wish I was able to see that.
Audrey: Maybe if you’re a good boy I can show you the recording I took.
Audrey: I mean she took…
I chuckle. I like this game where she isn’t Audrey, and maybe I’m not Charlie. I’m Charles. I’ve always hated my full name, it’s so pretentious, but I couldn’t think of anything else when she asked, and I panicked. Charles was the first thing that came out and then I couldn’t take it back.
Charlie: I’ll do anything to see that recording.
Audrey: Call me when you are alone.
My nerves are heightened at the thought of calling her. I feel like we are walking on thin ice and I’m not sure where we stand. But I meant what I said. I’d do anything to see that recording. It might be my motivation to score every single goal for the rest of the season if I can help it. I’ll end up breaking an NHL record and in my speech, I’ll make sure to thank her.
Despite McQuaid’s continued attempts to get the team to go out with him, I don’t think anyone budges. I certainly don’t, and I know most of the guys would rather have sleep.
Once I’m back in my hotel room I strip down to just my boxers before settling on the bed to call Audrey, unsure what kind of conversation we are about to have.
“Hey,” she answers easily.
“Hi,” I can hear the nervousness in my voice. Even though I’m not looking at her or Lacey, for some reason this feels more intimate and vulnerable.
“Congratulations on the win,” her voice is breathy and sexy, like how she speaks as Lacey. It’s not that she changes her voice, but she’s more seductive as her alter ego.
“Thanks,” I pause, debating if I should say the next words that end up coming out of my mouth, “I think I deserve a reward for my goal.”
Her soft giggle goes straight to my cock, instantly hardening for her. “I agree, and you’ll get it, but I want some answers first.”
I should’ve known there was more to her dangling the recording in front of me, and yet I’ll answer any question she has so I can see it.
“What questions do you have?”
“Why’d you walk away the other night?”
I run my hand down my face. I should’ve known these were the type of questions she’d want an answer to. I give her partial honesty.
“I was nervous,” I say, simply.
“Nervous about what?”
“About going any further with you.”
She’s quiet for a moment and I check to see if the call is still connected.
“Are you a virgin?” she asks, the words are rushed like she had to get them out all at once.
I laugh. “No, I’m not a virgin.”
Not far off from one, though. I don’t say that. I’m not the most experienced, but I’m also not going to divulge more information than she asks about.
“Then why were you so nervous?” she wonders.
“It’s been a while,” I answer honestly.
“So did you forget how it works or something?” she jokes.
I chuckle, “No, I definitely remember how it works.”
She’s quiet on the other end of the phone and I’m not sure if she hung up or is just weighing her next words. “Did you want to fuck me that night?”
Even though they shouldn’t, her words surprise me and I’m unsure how to answer. If I say yes, then she might freak out and want to leave my house again thinking this was my plan the whole time. If I say no, she might be embarrassed about everything.
I decide to go with the truth, “Yes.”
“Hm,” she hums and I’m not sure what that means. “I guess I’ll see you when you get back then.”
I’m so confused. “Wait,” I start, but she’s already hung up. It doesn’t take long before there’s a video in my messages on the cam app. When I open it, I see the screenshot of Lacey, she has a small smile on her face, knees together in front of her on the couch. On my couch. I know before even opening the video it’s going to be the death of me.
My suspicions are confirmed when I start it and it begins right before my goal, like she cut this clip special for me already. I fist my cock through my clothes, I won’t jerk off to this, no matter how much I want to, but fuck am I already painfully hard.
Lacey is wearing her signature mask as she looks straight ahead to where I know the TV is. Her lingerie is simple, almost casual and it might be one of my favorite things I’ve seen her wear. Aside from the normal shirt and shorts she wore the other day when I got an in-person show. She’s in a tank top that is completely lace, but not as tight as a corset thing I’ve seen her wear. And the boy shorts she has on are also a matching black lace as the top. Her hair is, again, not in a wig but it’s pulled back in a small ponytail that looks perfect to tug on.
I turn the volume up on the video so I can hear the commentary from the game.
Mann on the breakaway.
Mann shoots.
Mann scores!
Lacey cheers for a second before turning her attention to the camera. To me. Even if I wasn’t watching live, we both know what she does next is solely for me. She pulls out the vibrator I got her that I can control remotely. There’s an option for her to use it without me controlling it as well and that’s exactly what it looks like she plans to do.
“Someone bought this for me and even though he’s not able to watch this live, I know he’s going to really, really like knowing I’m using it now,” she tells the camera.
“Damn right I am,” I say to myself as I watch her slide the tiny little shorts to the side, barely exposing her pussy before sliding the thicker piece of the vibrator inside her and settling the top part on her clit.
“First goal of the game, I think I should get my first orgasm of the night, sound fair?” she asks, her phone in her hand and I know she’s already turning on the toy. She moans when the vibrations start, “God, this won’t take long. This thing feels way too good.”
Fuck. I squeeze my cock through the thin fabric of my clothes once again trying to dull the ache there, but I know it’s a stupid idea. The only thing that will dull this particular ache is relieving myself and I can’t do that. I won’t do that anymore.
“It also won’t take long because I just love watching hockey. The players, oh my god. They are so fucking hot,” her sultry voice is talking herself through her pleasure while her hands roam her body.
Her hands are roaming places mine could have. Mine could.
“It’s just something with the way they move on the ice, how big they are and how powerful, ugh,” the noise she makes sounds like a mix of a groan and a moan. I want her to keep going and to stop all at the same time because I’m not going to be able to hold out.
“The one that just scored, Mann, he looked pretty hot,” her eyes look directly at the camera now.
I groan, fisting my hands so tight my knuckles are white.
“Talk about looking big and powerful. Plus, that giant smile on his face while they all celebrated? Talk about panty melting.”
Okay, fuck this. I pull my cock out. It’s rock hard and leaking as soon as my hand wraps around it. I moan so loud whoever is in the room next to me must have heard, but I don’t even care. My hand moves along my shaft, squeezing and twisting the head on the upstroke while I watch Audrey get closer and closer. Because I don’t care if she tries to differentiate between herself and her alter ego, that is Audrey talking and saying those things. That is Audrey performing for just me.
“I’m so close,” she moans, throwing her head back against the couch, spreading her legs wider with the fabric covering her slit pulled to the side, I can see the wetness around the toy that is vibrating both inside and outside her.
“Me too,” I murmur to myself as my hand continues to work myself harder and faster.
Audrey’s moans take over all my senses as her climax begins and I’m not far behind as I watch her explode. I do the same, my mind completely and wholly on her. As I come down and the video ends, I can’t help but think her mind may have been on me too.