Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
XANDER
Idon’t remember the last time I attended a hockey game that I wasn’t playing in. And that’s not because my memory is shady as fuck.
It’s because it hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I don’t watch hockey. I own hockey. I destroy the puck, the ice, and I don’t fucking sit out.
Definitely not for a whole goddamn season.
Except, this year, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
And I fucking hate it. I was fine during the offseason.
No one was playing, so it was easy to pretend that I’d be joining my team when it was time to start training.
But now I’m here, in our arena on opening night, and I’m not warming up on the ice with my team.
I did a round of media interviews when we first arrived and kept Ivy in my sight the whole time. I want her nearby, and she didn’t disappoint me, making sure she was right there to smile at me, to be my support system.
Finally, I was able to bring her up to our box.
I keep a box here every season for my family when they come for games.
They don’t all come at once very often, but at least once a month someone is in town, and I want them to be comfortable.
On nights that I don’t have a need for it, the arena can rent it out. They ask me a week in advance.
Thankfully, no one wanted it this evening.
I’m thrilled to watch the game with my wildcat, and if the smile on her perfect face is anything to go by, she’s fucking excited.
She loaded up a plate of food—I love that she’s not afraid to eat—and ate it while asking me questions and watching the arena fill up from the privacy of our suite. There are two rows of seats in front of the box, where we’re now seated, ready to watch the game.
“People are looking at you,” she says and reaches for my hand.
“Nah, they’re trying to figure out who the bombshell redhead is.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles.
She snorts.
“Not likely.” She tips her head to the side. “Actually, they probably are trying to figure out who I am since I’m with you.”
“Does it bother you?”
The guys on the ice line up for the face-off, and my stomach clenches, but I keep my attention on my girl.
“Does what bother me?”
I turn to her and grin. “That people are watching us, and trying to figure out who you are, Red.”
“Nah.” She shrugs and sips her soda. “I mean, you know that I don’t love being the center of attention, but I’m with you. So it’s okay.”
This fucking girl.
“I want to fucking kiss you so goddamn bad,” I mutter in her ear, and I see her clench her thighs together. “Does that turn you on, sweetheart?”
“Literally everything you do turns me on. You know that, right? Also, I know that hockey is your main talent, but your voice is . . . yeah. It does things to me. You’re so good at the dirty talk, X.”
“Are we seriously doing this in my box at the game?”
She laughs and sips her drink again. “You started it. By the way, I love your penthouse. I didn’t tell you earlier.”
We’ve hardly been there today. We spent a couple of hours at the stadium, then we met up with Coop and Brit for lunch, and we went to Brit’s store so the girls could chat and Ivy bought about half a dozen books.
We only went back to the penthouse to change and then come straight here.
Which means I haven’t been inside my girl since last night, and that’s way too fucking long.
“We don’t have to stay for the whole game,” I tell her, and she frowns up at me, making me grin. “I’m just saying. We can stay if you want to. Seeing you in my jersey is fucking hot, by the way.”
“Isn’t it bad luck to leave early? Wait.” She eyes me, and a slow smile spreads over her face. “You don’t want to leave. You just want . . . you know.”
“No. I don’t know.” God, I love the banter with this girl. “Tell me.”
“You know.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” I turn my attention back to the ice. Cooper has the puck, passes, then gets it again and shoots it into the net, scoring the first goal of the night. “Attaboy!”
We stand and cheer, and I see that we’re on the big screen. There will likely be a lot of these shots tonight, putting our reactions up there for the fans to see.
As we sit back down, Ivy rests her hand on my thigh.
“If you’re dying for my cock, just say so, Red. I’ll take you home and fuck you on every surface.”
Ivy snorts. “Dying for it? You wish.”
But she shifts in her seat, as if she’s trying to ease an ache between her legs, and fuck.
I want her.
I never stop wanting her.
Watching her work with the medical staff this morning was a huge turn-on. It’s a good thing she was making me do some exercises so I didn’t get hard.
“So, you’re telling me that you don’t want me to lick up your inner thigh? To that little spot by your hip that always makes you squirm.”
“Xander.”
“I know you love it when I pull your nipple between my teeth and push my thigh between your legs so you can ride it, trying to ease that ache between your legs.”
“Xander Andrew Hendrix.”
“Not my middle name, Red. But it’s fine. We can stay here for the next three hours and watch this game.”
She stands up, pulls me to my feet, and makes me follow her back to the private bathroom that every box has. She yanks me inside, closes and locks the door, and turns to me with hungry blue eyes.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
She doesn’t say a word, she just lowers to her knees and grabs for my jeans.
“Baby, you don’t have to—”
“You make me crazy in the best fucking way,” she says, urgently opening my pants and working them down my hips, and when she has my cock in her sweet little hands, I hiss and lean both palms on the wall behind her as she licks up the side of my dick and over the head, over the metal there, and then she sinks over it, putting as much as she can in her mouth, and sucks.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ivy.”
She hums and cups my balls as she works her pretty little mouth up and down my shaft. She pulls back long enough to say, “Pull my hair,” and I’m pretty sure I could come just from those words alone.
I fist her hair at the back of her head and guide her up and down, and she hums, closes her eyes in contentment, and hollows her cheeks to suck me harder.
“Baby, I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
She scowls up at me.
“Fuck. Jesus, you’re amazing. You like my cock, wildcat? You like sucking my cock and playing with my balls?”
She whimpers, and that’s all I can take. I pull her to her feet. She’s wearing leggings under the jersey, but she’s also still in her shoes.
“Shoes off,” I tell her, and she immediately follows my orders, and then I help her out of the leggings and finally lift her, wrap her perfect legs around my waist, and brace her against the wall. She circles my neck with her arms and meets my lips halfway, kissing me with pure, unadulterated need.
My cock slips through her sopping wet slit, making us both groan.
“Do you have any idea what it does to me”—I bury my face in her neck and bite the soft flesh there—“to see you in my name? There’s nothing fucking sexier than you in my jersey, Ivy Rose Bensen.”
She blinks up at me. “How do you know my middle name?”
“Wow, I guessed it right.” I’m smug as fuck as I guide my cock to her opening and push inside, hard, making her gasp. “You make me fucking crazy. Can’t. Get. Enough.”
With each word, I slam into her, and her hands dive into my hair, gripping so tight it makes my scalp stretch.
“Your snug little pussy was made for me.”
“Your big-as-fuck, pierced cock was made for me,” she says, and bites my lower lip.
“I love your sassy mouth.”
I fuck her hard, the way I know she likes it, and then she’s clenching down on me and biting my shoulder so she doesn’t cry out as the orgasm washes over her.
“Fuck, Red.”
I follow her over, coming inside her, and when I pull out and set her down, I can’t help the smug smile that spreads over my lips.
“You won’t clean up,” I say as I tuck myself away. “You wanted to fuck at this game, so we fucked, and you’ll sit through the rest of it with my cum inside you. Every time you move, you’ll remember who just railed you in this bathroom.”
She blinks slowly, shrugs, and pulls on her leggings. When she turns away and I see her freshly fucked hair over my name and number, I almost tear her clothes off and do it all over again.
Later.
There’s plenty of time later.
When we walk out of the bathroom, I stop to grab some food from the small buffet that I had set up for us and walk over to check the score.
Both teams scored in the time that it took me to fuck my girl, but we’re still up by one.
We take our seats again, but by the second period, things are tense down on the ice, and I can’t handle sitting anymore, so I stand and move behind Ivy.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Nervous energy. You sit, I’m going to pace a little.”
She nods and turns back to the game, and when Cooper busts out into a fight, throwing down his gloves and going after an enforcer, my hands ball into fists.
This is torture.
Finally, Cooper and the other guy are pulled apart, and Coop is sent to the penalty box for four minutes.
I stand behind Ivy and run my fingers through her thick hair, and it soothes me.
She leans back into me, and I keep combing her hair.
It feels like spun silk. Everything about this woman is beautiful, even the curves that she’s self-conscious of, but this hair and the freckles sprinkled all over her body make me lose my mind.
The second period is coming to an end, and I want to go down and talk to the guys, so I lean over and kiss the top of Ivy’s head.
“I’m going to the locker room for a second.”
“Fun.” She stands and smiles at me. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry about me.”
There’s a knock on the door, and then Brit pokes her head in. “Hey, I’m comin’ to visit.”
“Oh good. He’s abandoning me.” Ivy points at me, and I scowl down at her.
“Go pump them up, Cap,” Brit says. “I’ll entertain your girl.”
I kiss Ivy’s lips, nod at Brit, and head out the door.