Chapter 20
TRICK
Two Days Later
“I’m fine. No headaches, no dizziness, no blurred vision, no nausea. I’m perfectly healthy.” I’m fidgety sitting on the cold exam table, possibly because I remember my last visit here after I got decked and nearly knocked out. “My head is harder than you give me credit for.”
Dr. Larry snorts. “Concentration back to normal during class?”
“As good as ever.” Except when I’m sitting next to Fifi. As it is, I’ve had to rely on her notes even after I returned to class because she’s still as distracting as ever. Maybe more since we haven’t slept together for days.
“I’m officially clearing you for light practice and general activity tomorrow,” Doc says. “If you continue to feel well with no return of symptoms, then you’ll be set to play in the next game.”
I shrug.
“I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I’d be thrilled if Coach Zabra didn’t suspend me for a game for fighting.”
Doc is silent, and I stare at him, daring him to try and defend the coach.
“That son of a bitch.” He takes a deep breath while I manage to stop my eyes from popping out of my head. “I wish I could say I’ll talk to him for you, Patrick, but we don’t get along.”
“Guess that makes two of us.”
“Don’t worry, he can’t keep you benched forever, and he can’t stop the scouts from taking note of your prolific scoring. He’s only getting away with this because the next game is with Loon State, and we can easily beat them.”
I snort in agreement. “You’re right.” I grin, but not because of the team’s likely win without me—which should be alarming—but because the doc’s clearance to play hockey means I’m cleared to play naughty games with Fifi too.
I jump from the exam table and shrug into my jacket.
“Glad to see you’re taking this in stride,” Doc says.
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Tell your young lady hello for me.” He winks.
Laughing as I walk out the door, I ignore the niggling thought that maybe playing with Fifi is better than playing hockey.
Arriving late for Stats class, I don’t care as I stride down the aisle to the first row while Professor Gringley rambles, then stops in mid-lecture. I take my seat next to Fifi, where no other student dared sit, and grin up at the prof.
He stares down at me from his podium.
“Better late than never,” I say, not relenting on my grin even in the face of his scowl. Next to me, Fifi covers her mouth, and I know there’s a smile she’s hiding behind her hand. She coughs. Make that a laugh.
The prof shakes his head and resumes his lecture as my hand finds its way to Fifi’s thigh under the flip-up desk. I don’t bother taking out my notebook as she resumes writing. I can barely concentrate on listening, let alone writing.
But I’m not worried the lack of concentration is from the concussion.
At the end of class, Prof Gringley has his assistants hand back a quiz we took just before my ill-fated game against B.C..
I turn mine face down as the paper is handed to me.
“What did you get?” Fifi nudges me and shows me her grade circled in red at the top of the page. A big fat 88.
“Great job, Fifi.” I lean in and kiss her, just a quick one. Even though students are filing out and generally not paying attention to us, I hear a whistle. Shit.
I stand and pull her with me.
“Let me see your grade. Whatever you got, it’s okay. We can work on improving it together.”
I laugh and hand her my paper as we’re walking to the door. She stops short.
“Trick. I can’t—you got a 98? How did you do that?” She looks up, grinning, and throws her arms around me, forgetting the students around us.
At first, I resist, but it’s too late as I catch a girl flashing her phone in our direction. What the hell?
“Let’s get out of here.”
Outside, I appreciate the full force of her beaming sunshine face. It seems brighter than the sky and the snow, and I wonder if it’s one of those optical illusions.
“I’m so proud of you,” she says, her voice breathy.
“I can give you some private tutoring if you want.”
She looks around comically to see if anyone is watching while she shushes me.
“It’s too late to worry about people noticing us now, Fifi.” I lean in and whisper, “Everyone saw you hug me.”
“You’re right, but there’s no sense giving more people something to gossip about.
” She tries to lean away, but I only lean closer and puff a breath in her ear to rattle her, to see her shiver the way she does.
Consequences be damned, even if said consequences make my jeans uncomfortably tight in the crotch.
It's a mutual decision to skip lunch to go back to Fifi’s apartment. We sneak in the back door, though I don’t know why we bother sneaking—unless it’s because it’s more exciting that way.
In her bedroom, we peel off our jackets and shoes, then collapse onto her bed.
In between kisses, I ask, “Do you think this is more exciting because we’re sneaking around?” I nuzzle her ear while I listen for her answer, mildly curious.
She bolts upright, pushing me off her. “Why would you say such a thing? You think I enjoy lying? Because sneaking is just another name for lying—”
“Hey, forget I asked.” I pull her back down, caressing her face. “It was just a random thought. Guess I watch too many cheap movies.”
She raises her brows. “And by cheap movies, I suppose you mean porn?”
I laugh, pulling her close again because I can feel her tension. “Nah. I haven’t watched porn since… I don’t remember when.”
“High school?” She arches one brow, and I’m glad to get her mind off her guilt and onto whether or not I watch porn. It’s an interesting subject.
“Earlier,” I say.
She laughs. “You were a sex maniac in grammar school?”
“How about you, miss naughty? You had to learn your moves from somewhere.”
“No porn, not unless you count the night the girls got together to watch Deep Throat on an old VHS tape we found in the basement.”
“That counts. It explains—”
She laughs and covers my mouth. “Don’t you dare say it. Deep Throat has nothing to do with my… skills. I’ll have you know that’s all passion driven.”
“Oh yeah? I like that idea. But…” I whisper against her ear, breathing heavier, like maybe I’m out of shape, like I need some practice right here and now. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to prove it.”
She turns and catches my mouth in a kiss until we’re both breathless.
“Don’t be afraid, hockey boy, I’ll go easy on you.”
That’s when I know any fear I had, pretend or otherwise, doesn’t exist and doesn’t stop me from getting back in the saddle—so to speak.
Working up a sweat never felt so good. That’s what I’m thinking as I kick off the covers.
“Let’s go, sugar lips, we’re taking a shower.” Before she opens her mouth to respond, I bend over and lift her from the bed, hauling her over my shoulder and positioning her ass in a very tempting place. I don’t resist, kissing the soft skin of her firm round rear.
She shrieks, bursting out laughing and I wonder, belatedly, whether her roommates are around to hear this. Then I shrug as I deposit her in the shower and turn the water on because I don’t care.
“You’re out of control,” she says, giggling as she looks up at me with the kind of expression that tells me she likes it.
“I love taking you by surprise, exciting you, putting that look on your face.”
“You mean the look that says I might enjoy another—”
I put a hand over her mouth and lean into her, flattening her against the wall. “Don’t say it,” I growl. “I want to be the one to suggest it—no, to promise it.”
She licks the palm of my hand, and I move it. “Orgasm. Another orgasm.” She’s giggling and squirming under me as I tickle her with my fingers on my way down to finding out how swollen the folds of her pussy are.
Anticipation raises my excitement and my dick as it presses against her thigh, twitching and greedy.
“What do you—”
I stop her from saying more, covering her mouth with mine and gently biting her lower lip. Actions speak so much louder than words, though I’m not sure what I’m saying besides I want you desperately.
There’s more. I know there is as my hands move up and down her exquisite body. Letting myself go, giving free rein to my body to say whatever it wants, I let passion have free rein.
“What about soap?” she says into my mouth.
I nip her lip. “You don’t need soap. I’m going to lick you clean.”
Making good on my threat, I run my tongue down her throat, slowing over her rapid pulse to suck and enjoy the effect I have on her. She shudders, so sweet and so sensually responsive.
“I must have been a saint in my last life to deserve a girl like you.” I kneel as I worship her body, lower and lower, with my mouth and tongue and eyes.
When I reach her naval, I suck the droplets of water pooling there and smile as her stomach contracts and goose bumps appear everywhere.
“Trick, I…” She doesn’t finish her sentence as my mouth travels lower, impatient to reach home, where the treasure lies.
Holding her thighs, parting them wide while she holds onto my shoulders, I kiss her pussy and thumb the throbbing nub I find before swirling my tongue, tasting her sweetness.
My voice hoarse, I say, “Did you know you taste like honey?” Because it’s an amazing truth. she’s like no one else. I suck and lick and listen to her quick breathing and desperate moans as she grasps my hair, pressing my face deeper into her.
I oblige, taking her asscheeks in my hands and pulling her in for a voracious swallow of her creamy sex, inhaling the scent until it almost makes me dizzy.
She’s squirming and panting and her folds swell.
Her sensitive nub feels like a silky pearl a treasure, one that I need to plunder.
With a greedy growl, I take her into my mouth, flicking with my tongue, swirling and scraping with my teeth until I feel her teetering on an orgasmic convulsion, and then I bite down and suck in her release as she clenches around me, spasming and screaming my name, over and over until my head explodes with sheer bliss.