Chapter Seven
It’s been a long fucking day. I’m not used to going entire days without practice and weight training with the guys. Sure, I worked out in my home gym, but that’s not the same. So by now, I’m going a little stir crazy. Thank fuck it’s Friday. Tomorrow I can return to the rink, and it can’t come soon enough. Tom said I could return yesterday if I wanted, but after my dinner with Soren and Mickey, I agreed it might be better to wait until tomorrow.
Fuck, I was so desperate for something to do that I even answered my mom’s call. The irony of me talking to the woman who’s directly responsible for making cheating such a hardcore trigger for me isn’t lost on me. One hour of agony while listening to her tells me how selfish I am for not calling enough, visiting enough, and that I don’t show an interest in her new family. Cry me a fucking river.
Just because she eventually married one of the guys whose dick was more important than our family doesn’t mean I have to be part of it. Especially not on Thanksgiving.
When I couldn’t take her whining anymore, I reminded her that I gave my half-brother a trust fund that basically covers his college tuition for his fifth birthday, and the house they all live in was also a present from me. You’d think that would earn me a thank you, right? Wrong. Apparently, that just shows how little I care.
She isn’t wrong; I don’t care. Those were obligation gifts and nothing else. A thank you would still be nice. But that’s not how my mom operates. She used the guilt as an excuse to try to make me come for Thanksgiving next month. Although I don’t see that fucking happening, I ended up promising I’d think about it. I suppose I’m keeping my promise since I am in fact thinking about it right now—contemplating when I should text her to let her know I’m not coming.
It’s obviously too soon to do it right now. Maybe the week of or a few days before. I pull my phone out and make a calendar reminder for Monday the twentieth of November, so I don’t forget to cancel. There, familial obligations are sorted.
My idea of celebrating Thanksgiving is with some fancy bourbon and a puck bunny or two. Sheesh, this year I’ll probably have to at least pretend to be with Lucia. Or maybe I can convince Tom it’s enough to bring her to the annual Sabertooths event.
Tom usually does a big family thing the weekend before for all the players, coaches, and our families. Mickey and I are usually the only ones who show up alone, but with everyone else there, it doesn’t feel odd. We’re one big family and everyone shares. Hell, Soren’s Nana insists we all call her that. She’s an awesome woman with a penchant for cheating in cards.
“Why the long face, lad?” Jackie asks as she comes into the backroom I’m occupying by myself. “And don’t tell me it was the food. I’m an outstanding cook.” Her eyes light up as she eyes my empty plate.
“There was nothing wrong with the food,” I say, forcing a smile.
“Then it has to be the company.”
I bark out a laugh at the accuracy and bluntness of her remark. “That’s one way to put it.” She isn’t wrong since I’m sitting alone and it’s my fucking choices and thoughts that are dragging me down.
Jackie starts placing my plate and cutlery on the tray, taking her time. “Maybe you should go out there and be around other people, lad,” she suggests. “It would do you some good, you know.”
“Maybe,” I allow.
“Ain’t no maybe about it, lad. Do as Jackie says.”
I shake my head and get up. “Thanks for the food, Jackie,” I say before placing a kiss on her cheek. “It was delicious, as always.”
She scoffs and mumbles, “Like I need you to tell me what I already know. My food is outstanding.” But the softness in her eyes and smile tugging at the corner of her lips show just how much she likes her food being praised.
I throw some bills on the table, grossly overpaying for my meal. Then I walk out of the private room before she can give me a lecture about not wanting the tip. It’s the same song and dance every time.
There are only a few people sitting at the bar, neither of which pay me any attention as I sit down at the end. After getting a beer from the bartender who did a double-take as he saw me, I study the surrounding people. The pub grows louder and becomes more crowded by the minute. People are shouting, swaying to the music, and just having a great time.
I’m about to head home when I see Lucia walk up to the bar, only a few feet from where I’m sitting. I quickly turn my head in the other direction, not wanting her to see me. The dark window I’m facing shows me her reflection, and I grit my teeth as she hugs who I assume to be a friend. I clench the bottle tighter, pissed that she’s enjoying herself when I’m not allowed to.
As her friend drunkenly darts off, I continue to watch Lucia while she waits to be served. She looks as perfect as always, but there’s something in the depth of her eyes. An uneasiness, or maybe it’s desperation? Ah, fuck it. I don’t know her well enough to guess. For all I know, she’s unhappy because she chipped a nail or some shit like that.
When she leaves with more alcohol than I ever thought someone of her size could drink, I chuckle. Looks like Miss Perfect might be worth watching for an hour or so. I might get my first glance at who Lucia is without her guard up.
My luck of not getting noticed lasts for a couple of hours, all of which I spend discreetly eyeing Lucia and her friend. Now that I think about it, I think I’ve seen her before at some of our games. But when a woman bumps into me and spills her drink on my arm, I forget to keep my head down and she lets out a shriek. “Oh my God, you’re Sawyer Perry.”
I smile indulgently. “Sorry, did my arm get in the way?”
She laughs nervously. “No, that was all me. I was… I mean… holy shit. You’re Sawyer Perry.”
By now, her loud shrieks have gathered the attention of the surrounding people, and they start closing in. “It is you,” a guy says. “I thought it was, but I wasn’t sure. Look, man, what happened to you was bullshit.”
“Yeah, you should have punched the dude harder,” another adds.
“Did you really sleep with his wife?” the girl who spilled her drink on me asks, flicking her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.
“What does it matter?” the first guy says. “You should never blame the third party, since they didn’t make any vows.”
The conversation about me continues to flow around me. No one is looking for me to say anything. They just carry on discussing my life like it’s the juiciest gossip, and maybe it is.
“Let me buy you another beer as an apology,” the blonde croons, running her hand up my wet sleeve until she’s running her fingers across my jaw.
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. In fact, I was just about to leave—”
“Aww, do you really have to go right now?” she purrs, batting her lashes so much it looks like she’s suffering through a fucking seizure. Jesus. “And here I thought things were about to get interesting.”
I force a laugh. “Well, in that case, I’m sorry to disappoint you…” I trail off when she stands straighter and moves so close I feel her tit rub against my arm. My dick doesn’t even twitch.
“What do you want?” she asks, her tone no longer playful. It’s fucking colder than ice as she looks at someone or something over my shoulder.
As I turn, I come face-to-face with none other than my soon to be fake girlfriend, according to Tom. “Get your hands off him,” she seethes, meeting the blonde’s icy stare with one of her own. “Sawyer isn’t yours to touch.”
What the actual fuck? Our fake as fuck relationship doesn’t begin until Monday, so she has no right to stir up unnecessary drama. “Watch yourself,” I growl.
The blonde laughs and tosses her long strands over her bare shoulder. “He isn’t yours, either. So why don’t you scurry along and let the pretty people talk?”
Lucia doesn’t seem fazed at all as she combs her fingers through her deep red hair and plasters herself to my other side. “You’re wrong about that,” she says matter-of-factly. “Sawyer’s mine. So get your filthy paws off him.”
The blonde takes a few steps back, then she thinks better of it and looks at me. “Is that true?”
Fuck Lucia Carter. Fuck Tom Redding. Fuck the fucking deal I already hate. Just… fuck it all. It’s not like I can say no and then publicly claim her as my girlfriend on Monday. Judging by the canary-like smile on Lucia’s plump lips, she’s all too aware of the wall she’s backed me up against. And that shit pisses me off.
Despite wanting to push her away, I throw my arm around Lucia’s shoulder and pull her closer. “Yeah. This is Lucia.” I swallow. “My girlfriend.”
The blonde rears back, looking like I called her a dirty name. “Oh.” That’s all she says. Then she tilts her head to the side. “I guess congratulations are in order.” With those words, she turns on her heel and walks away.
I give her a tight smile and watch her walk off. Now that Lucia’s here, the crowd around me backs off, giving us some space. I place my lips against Lucia’s ear and whisper, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
She shivers, looking up at me through hazy eyes. “I need you to pick me.” She says it like it’s a normal fucking request or response. “I know Tom is the one making the official decision, but I need it to be me.”
I arch an eyebrow. “What do you mean, it has to be you?” I ask brusquely. As she sways on her heels and narrows her eyes like she’s having a hard time focusing, I realize that she’s beyond fucking drunk, but is she drunk enough to forget Tom already picked her? That makes no sense.
Lucia licks her lips. “I’m not fucking stuttering, Sawyer. We both know Tom’s giving you a fake girlfriend, and I’m saying I need that to be me.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. This chick is batshit crazy. “I’m not discussing it here,” I bark. I turn to look at the table she was sitting at with her friend, but it’s empty now. “Come on.” Still with my arm around her, I drag her out of the pub.
“Where are we going?” she slurs, nearly stumbling for the fifth time.
As much as I want to just take off, I can’t leave her here alone. She’s too drunk for her own good, and I just publicly claimed her. So at the very least, I have to make sure she gets home safely. “Taking you home,” I answer curtly. She doesn’t protest when I help her into the passenger seat in my car, or when I secure the seat belt.
“I like my home,” she breathes. “It’s nice and I don’t want to lose it.”
Slamming the door closed, I walk around and get into the driver’s seat. It can’t take more than a few minutes at most before I have the car started, but Lucia’s fast asleep. I nudge her. “Hey,” I say. “Wake up. I need your address.”
She sits up straighter, looking at me from beneath her long, dark eyelashes. “I live at home.” She frowns, like my question is strange. “That’s where I live.” Her words are so slurred there’s a good chance she said something else, but I’m pretty sure none of her words included an address.
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Where is that?”
“Where’s what? Oh, can we get a taco? I like tacos. And cheese. And…” Her head thuds against the window and her snores start up again.
Fuck me. What am I supposed to do with her now? I can’t just fucking leave her here. And I can’t call Tom for her address. With a growl, I pull out of the parking spot and head home. She can sleep it off in one of my guest rooms, and then I can grill her tomorrow.
Carrying a sleeping, drunk woman into my home isn’t something I’ve ever done before, and I’m not happy about doing it now. Especially not when I know the entire building is covered with security cameras. Maybe I should try to get them to erase the footage so it doesn’t look like… who cares? I’m sick of fucking caring.
After getting us inside, I carry Lucia to my guest room and place her so she’s lying on her side. She doesn’t stir once; not when I remove her shoes, or when I throw the cover over her. Maybe a better person would wake her up and offer her a shirt to sleep in. But that’s not me. I don’t care about her comfort.
That’s what I keep telling myself as I leave her and head toward my bedroom and get ready for bed. As I lie down, images of her choking in her sleep spring to mind. With a curse, I get back out of bed and go to join her in the guest room. I’m only wearing my boxer briefs, but it’s all I need because I do care about my comfort.
I groan, winding my fingers into the hair of the puck bunny, swallowing my cock. Her mouth is fucking incredible. “Fuuuck.”
“That’s it,” she mumbles around my length. “Let me make this easy for you.”
Throwing my arm across my eyes, I let her suck me. It feels fucking good. Who did I bring home last night? Wait a second… I went to Jackie’s, where I only had one beer. I didn’t hook up with anyone and definitely didn’t bring anyone home with me… “Lucia!”
Pulling on her hair until her mouth pops off my dick. “Why did you stop me?” she whines.
I reach for the light on the nightstand and switch it on. Lucia’s on all fours between my legs, her head tilted awkwardly to the side due to the way I’m pulling on her hair. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I seethe.
“Showing you how good it’ll be if you pick me,” she purrs. “I won’t deny you anything, Sawyer.”
I groan again, but this time it isn’t from pleasure. What fucking game is she playing? “And you thought sucking me off in my sleep was the perfect way to audition?”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Are you saying you aren’t enjoying it?”
Laughing darkly, I sit up so I can look down on her. “I’ll be asking the questions.” She gulps. “What made you think I wanted you to suck my cock? That it was okay for you to do it while I was sleeping?” It’s not like I wasn’t enjoying it. My dream was hot as fuck, and what man doesn’t like waking up by getting their dick serviced?
Instead of looking contrite or embarrassed, Lucia rolls her eyes. “Everyone likes getting blown, Sawyer. And you didn’t get your reputation by being chaste.”
Smiling coldly, I tighten my hand in her hair. “Doesn’t mean I want you touching me.”
She whimpers in pain. “Your cock seems to like me.”
“It’s been a while,” I admit. “Anyone could get me off right now. Doesn’t make you special.” The barb doesn’t faze her. Letting go of her hair, I point at my still hard cock. “Get down on the floor and finish what you started.”
While Lucia willingly crawls off the bed and onto the floor, I scoot to the end of the bed and spread my legs wide so she can sit between them. She’s still wearing her tight dress, her hair is in disarray, and some of her makeup is smudged around her eyes. The imperfections make her look sexy as hell.
“Does this mean you’ll convince Tom to pick me?” she asks, her voice small like she hates asking.
“Why should I?” I ask, slightly amused we’re both overlooking the fact that Tom already picked her, and I confirmed our relationship status to the blonde who could have posted it online for all we know. Or maybe Lucia doesn’t remember. God, I hope that’s the case. I fucking hope she’s begging for something she doesn’t know she already has.
Lucia leans closer and licks her lips. “It doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that I need it. So name your price.”
I snort. “Are you fucking for real?”
“I am,” she confirms. “But I don’t expect you to choose me as a favor. I’m willing to pay for it.”
For fuck’s sake, she’s making it sound like it’s my choice. “So I ask again, why should I?” When she doesn’t answer, I decide to press her further. “If you want me to pick you, you need to sweeten the deal. Convince me.”
“What do you want?” she asks, throwing her arms up in the air. “Just name your price.”
Hmm, she’s fucking desperate, and I’m just horny enough that I need to see how far she’s willing to go. “Finish sucking me off,” I smirk. “If you give good head, I’ll recommend that Tom pick you. If not, well, then you’re shit out of luck.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t even blink as she nods. “You want regular blowjobs to be part of the deal? Anything else?”
I smirk down at her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s off limits?” I run a finger through the precum gathered on my slit and wipe it across her lips. “And if you mention anything I want, there’s no deal.”
Lucia looks up at me while licking her lips. Fuck if the desperate look in her eyes and pink tongue wetting her lips isn’t making me even harder. “Let’s get one thing straight, Sawyer. I don’t have any fucking limits. I need this. So if you want sex to be part of the deal, I’m okay with that.” She pauses, swallowing. “Now that I think about it, it’s probably for the best. Our relationship needs to seem one thousand percent real, which means you can’t discreetly fuck someone else.”
Well, color me fucking surprised. Something’s driving Lucia, something or someone who is worse than being stuck and used in a fake relationship. I’m officially harder and more intrigued than I’ve ever been. A dark need I haven’t felt in a long time stirs inside me. Her words are breathing life into it, and for a second I consider putting words to it to see how far she’s willing to go.
“So, if I want you to make me come daily?” I ask, arching my eyebrow.
Rather than shying away from the challenge, Lucia cups my cock. “Then I’ll make you come once a day.”
Hmm, could I ask her to give me what I crave? “And if I want to fuck you once a day?”
She tightens her grip on my cock. “Then I’ll let you fuck me. Make no mistake, Sawyer. I’m not backing down. So make a list if you want to, and I’ll make sure to fulfill every single fucking item on it. But in return, you’re going to be my boyfriend for thirteen months.”
I let out a surprised laugh, all thoughts about my dark kinks forgotten. “No way. Tom said it was only for this season.”
She rolls her eyes and starts to move her hand up and down my shaft. “Come on,” she purrs. “I know you’re smarter than this, Sawyer. Everyone will see through it if it’s only for the duration of the season. But for longer… it’ll look more real.”
A groan bubbles up my throat as she increases her pace. Fuck me, this woman is trouble. “You have a point.” And she does. When you decide to live in an elaborate lie, it looks better if it seems random. A year and one month means it’s a random as fuck date rather than one that’s benchmarked by a big event. “Is that your only demand?” I rasp, doing my best to remain alert despite the way she’s working my cock.
“As long as it looks real and you don’t cheat on me, I’ll do whatever you want.” Her expression is all business, which is turning me on even more. These aren’t the actions of a meek girl, this is a determined woman, and I’m going to take full advantage of it.
“Hmm,” I hum, pretending to think about it. I move my hand, slowly sliding it up her back until I wrap it around her neck, and then I add pressure. “You say all the right things which tells me you actually want this. What are you hiding, Lucia?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” she volleys, tightening her hold on my cock. “I’ve told you everything you need to know.”
There we go; the devil is in the details, and Lucia Carter apparently has loose lips when there’s alcohol in her system. She might as well have said there’s a lot she doesn’t want to tell me. From my previous interactions with her, I know she’s usually composed, and I’ve never once heard her slip up like that.
“So let me get this straight,” I rasp, letting my suspicions go for now. “You’re basically offering me anything I want, your body included, to be my fake girlfriend?”
“Yes,” she breathes, still stroking my cock.
“Prove it,” I challenge. “Open your mouth.”
I’m not surprised when her lips part, forming an O. I move my hand from her neck to her chin, holding her still. Then I lean forward while gathering some spit and slowly let it drip from my mouth into hers. To her credit, Lucia doesn’t flinch or try to move away. She kneels there, taking it without complaining. Maybe she doesn’t think I see the spark of anger flashing in her eyes, but I do. And it’s fucking glorious.
“Good girl,” I praise, squeezing her chin. “Suck me off, and I promise I’ll talk to Tom about picking you.”
“I want your word,” Lucia demands. It comes out slightly muffled, since I’m still holding her chin.
“You got it,” I smirk. “If you can make me come in three minutes or less, I’ll call Tom as soon as you’ve swallowed my jizz.”
Rather than challenging me, Lucia looks up at me while her lips almost graze the tip. “I only need two minutes.” When I arch a brow, she shrugs. “Go ahead and time me. See how long it’ll take until I’ve swallowed it all.”
Because I’m a curious asshole, I reach for my phone and pull it out from under the pillow. I start the timer. “Let’s see how skilled that mouth of yours really is,” I rasp. I want to say more, but I lose the ability to think of ways to taunt her when she licks along my shaft. Reaching the head, she swirls her tongue around my slit, making it impossible to keep my groan in, and she smiles in response.
“Thirty seconds gone,” I rasp.
Lucia guides my cock into her mouth. She wraps her lips around the tip, swirling her tongue around it as she gently cups my balls, rolling them in her hand. I try my hardest to keep my groans inside, not wanting her to know just how fucking amazing her mouth feels.
Without warning, she eagerly sucks me all the way to the back, and when I hit her throat, she doesn’t pause. She picks up the pace, using her mouth to fuck me while digging her long nails into my ass cheeks.
“Fuck,” I groan, moving my hand to the back of her neck.
Lucia continues to bob her head, bringing me closer to the edge with every fucking movement. I close my eyes and tangle my fingers in her red locks, pulling her closer until I’m completely inside her hot little mouth.
I growl as she sucks, swirls, and jerks me off at the same time. Oh, fuck me, it’s incredible. Lucia moves faster, and it only takes a few moments before my balls tighten as pleasure shoots up my spine.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I groan the word over and over as I shoot my cum deep in her throat. “So fucking good.”
I don’t move until I’m spent, my cock softening in her mouth. Before pulling out, I check the phone clutched in my hand. “One minute and fifty-seven seconds,” I chuckle, feeling impressed. Lucia remains on her knees while shuffling backward, and I watch her as I stand up. “Did you swallow?” I ask.
She opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out, showing me she did. “I said I would,” she says, not at all sounding bothered by what happened.
Well, that’s about to change. “Good. I’ll call Tom now.” Even though it’s the middle of the night, I stay true to my word. I scroll through my contacts until I find him. Then I tap the phone icon and put the call on speaker.
“What?” Tom barks. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”
My smirk grows as I lock eyes with Lucia. “Not at all,” I confirm. “I just called to say I’m glad you picked Lucia Carter. I think she’s an excellent choice.” At my words, she gasps softly, and her eyes harden as she gracefully gets up from the floor.
“Glad to hear it,” Tom says sarcastically. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’m going back to sleep.”
The moment Tom hangs up, Lucia slaps me across the cheek. “Tom had already picked?” she asks, anger dripping from her tone.
“He did,” I confirm.
“You fucking bastard,” she hisses. “I would have done anything you asked. There was literally no need to lie to me.”
When she lifts her hand again, I slap it away. Then I advance on her, using my chest to force her against the wall. “You think you can manipulate me, Lucia? You’re the one who lied. Tom sent that message days ago, and I don’t fucking believe he didn’t inform you as well.”
“But I never put myself up as a candidate,” she says, her tone calmer. “Why would he pick me?”
With a shrug, I wrap my hand around her throat. “You don’t actually expect me to believe your bullshit, do you? Get it through your head, Lucia. No one manipulates me. Ever.”
Rather than backing down, she straightens her spine. “What about our deal?”
I laugh darkly. “Oh, I always keep my promises. Thirteen months, Lucia. And unlimited access to your body. This will be fun.”
She sends me a scathing look. “You fucking better. I don’t appreciate being lied to,” she hisses, causing me to smirk.
“I didn’t lie,” I grin. “I called Tom just as promised.”
Arching a brow, she asks, “Why exactly am I here?”
I’m not sure why that wasn’t her first question, or why she prioritized sucking me off before getting answers. Not that I’m complaining since it turned out with me coming in her mouth. “You don’t remember falling asleep in my car?” She shakes her head. “Hmm, okay. Well, you were at O’Jackie’s with a friend and when you saw me, you came up to me and chased some blonde away—”
“Oh,” she gasps, looking around while sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “I remember now. You said you were going to take me home.”
“I did,” I agree. “But you fell asleep before you could give me your address, so here we are.”
She nods, seemingly accepting the way things played out. Since she isn’t questioning why we’re in the same bed, I see no need to fill in her blanks. “I guess I should get going,” she laughs nervously.
“No,” I say, and her head snaps up. Her mouth opens, ready to argue, but I continue before she can say anything. “You can’t leave my place in the middle of the night. You’re my girlfriend, remember? We have pretenses to keep up. So you’ll stay until I have practice, and I’ll drop you off on the way.”
She nods and looks down at her body. “I need a shower,” she states. “And then I need to borrow some clothes. I can’t leave in the same outfit I arrived in. Not if I spent my night at…” she makes air quotes with her fingers. “…my boyfriend’s.”