Chapter 7
LUCY
Someone had stolen my panties.
I stood in my small, pink and black decorated dorm room, in my pink robe, hair up in a towel, staring down at the floor. I’d dropped them after my “personal playtime.” I knew it for a fact. So how were they not there? Was I losing my mind?
And what the hell was that smell in my room? It smelled like…well, a little like me when I came, but harsher, darker, deeper, thicker.
Did I need to go to health services to find out if I had a yeast infection?
Still in my robe, I crawled on the floor, looking under the bed. Not there. I checked the laundry hamper too, and the bed, in case I was losing my mind, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t.
Which meant some asshole, some creeper, had been in my room and stolen my recently-orgasmed-in panties while I’d been showering.
Who? Was someone in my hall fucking with me?
Did I have a stalker? Was it one of the hockey players I’d been flirting with?
My TA had canceled the study session today, so I’d come back early.
Angry, hurt, and needing to self-soothe, I’d taken care of myself, even though I’d hated myself for it.
Hated that I’d tried to fantasize about someone, anyone else, and failed.
Hated that even though I was surrounded by attractive guys all the time, the one man I couldn't have, shouldn't have, would never look at me like I was more than an annoying and immature child, was the only image I could get myself off to. And when I’d come, it had felt like there was someone in the room with me, watching, listening…
I shook that off. Someone was fucking with me, for sure, and I was going to go to hockey practice this evening like I always did, and I was going to find out if one of those sweaty, stinky assholes was behind it.
When I got to practice, Coach wasn’t even there.
I tried to ignore the stomach drop of disappointment of not seeing him, telling myself it was better that I didn’t.
Anyone else, I could have handled it. But with Blake, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide my embarrassment after getting myself off to thoughts of him fucking me.
I skidded up to Emory on the ice where he was running drills with Mason.
“What are you doing out here, babe?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. The babe was for show. Emory wasn’t into me. He had the hots for some older woman far out of his league, and even though he refused to tell any of us who it was, I had my guesses. But that didn’t mean he and his friends hadn’t decided to scare me or embarrass me.
“Did you take my panties?” I asked him point blank.
He skidded to a stop on the ice, dropping his stick and backing away from me.
“What the actual fuck?”
“Did you take my panties?” I enunciated, angry but also hopeful it was a prank and not something worse.
But based on the shock and confusion on his face, my gut told me otherwise. Dread pooled in my stomach.
“Just tell me the truth,” I asked. “Because my panties disappeared from my room while I was in the shower…”
Mason looked concerned. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Emory shook his head. “Wasn’t me. I was…well I was busy all morning, and I wouldn’t know how to break into your room anyway. But maybe it was one of these other horny assholes.”
Lifting his hands to his face, he yelled, “Hey, you motherfuckers, stop what you’re doing and get over here!”
Oh no.
Oh no, oh no, oh no.
This could get messy.
“Emory,” I warned. “Please don’t.”
The whole team stopped practicing, skating over.
“What’s up?” Matt, Emory’s roommate asked.
“Did any of you go to Lucy’s room and steal her panties today?”
A loud, manly chorus of shocked “no” and “what the actual fuck, who would do that shit” echoed through the arena. Players circled me, eyeing me up and down, and even though a few of them smirked, most of them seemed worried.
“We wouldn’t do shit like that, but I tell you what, if we find out who did—” one began.
A whistle blew, interrupting us.
I looked up, directly into my legal guardian’s eyes as he stared back. He looked pissed, although for once, not at me.
“What are you idiots doing? Why isn’t anyone practicing? Why are you all circling our team assistant like you’re about to tear her apart?”
Was that…did he sound protective?
I gaped at him.
“Nah, Coach. We’re trying to be helpful. Some creepy fuckwad stole Lucy’s panties out of her dorm room and she thought it was one of us.”
Oh.
My.
God.
I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know my face had gone bright red.
Any ability to keep myself regulated and hide my embarrassment had flown out the window as soon as Blake had arrived.
And being blonde and fair skinned, there was no way in hell I could hide a blush.
My whole body felt like it was on fire. This was my nightmare, talking about my panties in front of the man whose face I had imagined when I’d made them wet…
There was a dark, unreadable look in his eyes. Usually I could tell what he was thinking, but right now the look was masked. Probably because he had no interest in hearing anything about my panties.
“That’s sick,” he said, slipping a hand into his pocket. He shut his eyes for a moment, and then when he opened them, he said, “I’m sorry, Lucy. We’ll take care of this.” Then, all business, he blew his whistle again.
“But that’s it. I’ll take care of it. The rest of you, get back to drills. Lucy, get off the ice before you slip and fall and we have to sue the university or file worker’s comp.”
I straightened.
Well.
If he could dismiss something so scary so easily, then he hadn’t seemed protective at all.
No, this was annoyance. If Coach had his way, he’d never have met me.
I swallowed down frustrated tears, not even wanting to think about how much it sucked that he didn’t really give a shit about me beyond being his responsibility.
So, I flipped my hair. “I think I’ll stay on the ice,” I said sweetly. “I can help the team better from here.”
“She’s our good luck charm, aren’t you, cutie,” one of the other players said, winking at me.
God, why did it do nothing for me? Why was the only person who made me feel a frisson of excitement glaring at me like I was the unwanted stray puppy who’d pissed his bed?
“Lucy, if you don’t get off the ice, I’ll haul you off myself,” Blake warned.
I grinned at him, twirling my hair. “You sure you can carry me? I’m pretty thick and you’re getting old.”
Players hooted, except for Mason, who raised an eyebrow, watching me.
What the hell are you doing? he mouthed.
I couldn’t answer him because I had no idea. I was playing with fire and was going to get scorched, but I was so hurt, angry, and scared, I welcomed the burn.
Coach threw back his head and laughed. And, completely shocking me, he pushed open the door to the ice and walked out on it in his suit and dress shoes, making his way across without slipping once.
The players parted for him like he was Moses and they were the Red Sea, and then he was bending down and I was being lifted and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I smacked his back.
“Blake, what the hell are you doing? Put me down! You’re embarrassing me!”
He was. But worse, he was turning me back on.
He’d never gotten this close to me since my parents’ funeral, and being carried by him, surrounded by his peat and honey smell, was exciting and comforting in a way that I couldn’t stand.
My nose was pressed up against his back, and if I wanted to, I could lick his suit jacket.
Instead, I bit him.
“Stop,” he muttered, ignoring the team’s whispers as he gripped my thigh in warning. He was stabilizing me and threatening me, I knew that, but his hand was so close to my pussy I wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from it.
Would he notice?
Would he care?
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I grumbled.
“You gave me no goddamn choice,” he said, and then we were back past the boards and in the bleachers and he was lowering me to the padded floor.
He didn’t release me though, his hands sliding up and gripping my waist with one hand, my shoulder with the other.
I looked up at him, and suddenly everyone else disappeared, until it was only the two of us.
I hadn’t been this close to him in so long and his green eyes were as mysterious and breathtaking as an enchanted forest… same as they’d always been.
“What—” I said.
“Lucy, I’ve warned you in the past. Don’t push me,” he said.
“And what will you do if I keep pushing?” My voice was breathy. If I stepped even a centimeter forward, my hard nipples would brush the fabric covering his chest.
His eyes, before so secretly expressive, shuttered, and he released me, taking a step back.
“You don’t want to know, I promise you that,” he said. “Now, get out of my sight. You’ve caused enough trouble for the day.”
I blinked.
God, his moods were so mercurial. I didn’t know what he was reacting to, but I knew it hurt.
I was done with this man.
So done.
“Whatever,” I said. “Clearly someone is stalking me and stealing my panties and you don’t even care. What kind of guardian are you, if you don’t guard?”
He snorted. “Lucy, no one is stalking you. I promise. Someone is probably playing a prank, or you’re just being forgetful.
You’ve lost ten iPhones in your life—I know because I had to pay for all the replacements—I’m not surprised you misplaced a pair of your underwear.
But now you’re making it my team’s problem, which means you’re making it my problem.
I don’t have time for this shit, so I need you to go. ”
I don’t have time for this shit.
As in, I don’t have time for you.
So, so done.
Unable to look him in the eyes anymore, knowing that I might actually lose control of the tears that threatened to spill out at his dismissive rejection, I looked down.
One of his pockets looked wrinkled and a little bulgy, and even though I wanted to fix it for him, fuss over him, I knew better.
He’d never let me touch him. This was the only time, and…
…Time to move on. I’d said I had already, but I meant it. For real this time.
“I’m going,” I told him. “Don’t expect me to come back.”
But instead of reacting, he stared forward, ignoring me as I forced myself to flip my hair and sway my hips as I headed out of the arena, and hopefully, out of his life.
He didn’t look at me once.
Time to do something drastic. No more getting off to him or fantasizing about him or pushing him or flirting with him. Not when he had a date soon. Not when he cared so little about my safety, about me.
Yup, getting under someone for the first time was the way to go.