Chapter 29
Cass
I didn’t need the scoreboard to tell me Mason was on fire.
He tore up the ice like it owed him something, cutting, driving, pushing every shift to the brink. No hesitation. No brakes. I hadn’t seen this version of him before and it was a rush.
Sharing the box with my dad became the norm when the Western Conference Final rolled around, and from here I could track Mason closely.
I barely blinked between plays, scared I’d miss one of Grayson’s clever tricks.
My eyes and ears filtered the noise of the arena until it was only the pounding of my heart and the glide of his skates.
He looked up once and his eyes caught mine for no more than a second, but he’d found me. And smiled. My dad shifted beside me, quiet but no longer cold. That frost had melted somewhere between Mason’s confrontation and me acing all my class finals.
“Did you see that?”
I kept my eyes on the ice and nodded. “Looks like another Grayson special.”
He slapped his knee, enjoying the show. I bit back a smile. A few weeks ago, I would’ve laughed in anyone’s face if they told me this was where I’d be.
There was no formal apology, but the truce was unmistakable. It was enough.
Tucker took a particularly nasty hit that rippled through the crowd with a pained groan. My dad nudged me with his elbow.
“Better get an ice pack ready,” he said.
I looked at him, the only time it felt worth it to take my eyes off the game. “I’m not the medic.”
“Well, tell the medic to get it then,” he said, but chuckled under his breath. “If you’re gonna sit in here, you might as well make yourself useful.”
It was a small step in the right direction, but it was all I needed.
The puck dropped into the zone, and Mason hustled for control.
Seconds later, he drew in two defenders right before executing a precision pass to Grayson with a deadly flick of his wrists.
The captain wasted no time, and buried it top shelf.
Game. First of the series against Seattle Kraken, and the Surge had just set one hell of a standard.
They didn’t stop skating, choosing to launch into a pile-on celebration by the glass. Mason didn’t join right away. He looked back at me again, breath heaving, cheeks flushed red beneath his helmet.
This one was for me.
“That pass,” my dad said, letting out a low whistle. “That damn pass.”
“I know,” I said, barely able to hear myself over the explosive arena. “Had me holding my breath until the last possible second.”
The replay lit up the Jumbotron in slow motion, looking almost poetic against the sheer mania unfolding around us.
My dad stared up at it, grinning from ear to ear.
The camera panned to the team still celebrating on the ice.
Players hammered the glass with their gloves, waved to the fans, chucked sticks and towels up to the crowd.
It felt like the whole place was on its feet. Like we’d all scored that winning goal.
I’d followed my dad through his hockey career, lived and breathed the game. But this was the first time I didn’t feel stuck on the outside looking in.
“He’s different since you came around,” he said.
It made my heart stutter to look at him, but for the life of me, I couldn’t look away. “So am I.”
We rode the high until early hours, which was just as well because Game 2 was a whole other story.
I found Mason in the tunnel after, still in partial gear and a foul mood after the loss.
“Let me see.” I tilted his head toward the harsh lighting and inspected the cut just above his eyebrow. “No blood, but it looks… fresh.”
“They were more aggressive tonight,” he said, twisting his face away from my fingers. “Nothing we can’t handle, but a sign of what the rest of this series is going to look like.”
“Like you said, it’s nothing you guys can’t handle.” I pushed up on my toes and pressed my lips to his. We were alone, so it was safe to do.
Not that we weren’t public about our relationship, but we were new enough to want the bubble to last just a little longer.
“How do you always taste so good?” He leaned his forehead against mine, breath playing warm on my lips.
My response was to kiss him again, slower this time. Drinking him in until the noise of the team leaving the locker room broke us apart.
Game 3 was on the road in Seattle, and Josie and I decided to watch it at the local bar, both of us nursing frozen margaritas while a full house screamed at the TVs. Mason scored first—a backhander off a rebound that looked effortless and mean.
“He’s insane,” she said, zooming in on the screen with her phone. “You know you’re trending right now?”
I gave her a side-eye. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly. People love a mystery.” She parted with her phone only long enough to finish the last of her drink. “It drives them crazy that you’re not chronically online like me.”
Warmth crept up my neck, but I smiled through it. Whatever this thing with Mason was turning into, it felt good. Even better that it didn’t need a spotlight to mean something.
But we couldn’t ignore that the spotlight existed, and as the series heated up, Mason and I kept our public appearances to a minimum.
“You’re not doing this just for me, are you?” I asked.
He’d been rubbing my feet, the two of us sprawled on my couch. Now he paused to look at me.
“What are you talking about? Foot rubs are all about you,” he said with a smirk.
“No, I mean staying in on a Friday night.” I watched the realization slowly drift onto his face. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m stopping you from fully experiencing your stardom, or whatever.”
“You think I’m a star?” Mason chuckled.
I took advantage of my precarious foot placement, and nudged him with my toes. “I’m being serious.”
“It’s not like that,” he said, laughter dissolving. “This cup run is everything. I want to keep my focus on what’s important—my game, and you. Not on going out and partying.”
His answer couldn’t have been better if it were scripted.
Game 5 pulled numbers like I’d never seen. Mr. Calder and Hallie came to watch it too, refusing to settle for another long distance celebration.
“I hope it’s a celebration we came here for,” Hallie muttered under her breath.
I hoped so too, especially after the early goal from Seattle that quieted the arena. Thankfully, Grayson answered with a wraparound that got everyone on their feet again. By the end of the second, we were tied two-all.
I stood the whole third.
Mason didn’t try to be the hero. He didn’t take wild shots or chase down breakaways for glory. Instead, he passed clean and blocked hard when it counted.
Hallie’s bundle of nerves fed my own, and we exploded with everyone else when Grayson scored the go-ahead with five minutes left.
My hands flew to my mouth as I screamed, the sound tearing out of me without permission.
Down below, the team lost their helmets and gloves, with even the bench flooding the ice.
4–2 to the Surge. We were going to the Stanley Cup Finals.
Back at his place, we barely made it into the hallway before Mason had me backed against the wall.
Only the kitchen light was on, but even so, when our eyes met, it was clear we felt the same way.
His mouth crashed into mine with something a little hotter than desperation, fingers getting lost in my hair and tugging at my shirt.
There was no hesitation when he pulled it over my head before bringing his mouth to mine again. The feel of his breath on my lips, my breasts under his needy palms, it was too much to bear.
“I need you inside me.”
His response was mostly physical, the hard bulge in his pants grinding into me.
Getting me wet. The next few seconds passed without words as we rid ourselves of the rest of our clothes.
The moan that escaped me when he pulled me into his arms was one of feverish arousal but also relief at having him this close again.
Cupping my face, his thumbs brushed just beneath my jaw as he tilted my head and deepened the kiss. It stole my breath away, tongues clashing for dominance as we gave in to the wild, aching need taking us over, growing steadily, until it felt like we’d be consumed by it.
Fully hard against me now, I snaked an arm around his shoulders and pushed up on my toes to meet him at a better angle.
One roll of my hips, and Mason groaned into my mouth.
One of his hands grabbed my ass and squeezed, sending a rush of desire spilling out of me.
The other hitched my leg up to wrap around his waist, and he slid his cock into the slick heat of my core.
I sucked in a breath when his tip made contact with my swollen clit, teasing another shaky moan from me as he moved between my folds.
My body rocked against him now, brain empty as his hands explored every inch of bare skin and his tongue plunged into my mouth in a searing kiss.
And the whole time, our bodies moved and flowed together, searching for release with equal urgency.
He pulled away but only to press his lips to my shoulder, collarbone, my neck…
Sucking and biting, just hard enough to fan the explosive flames of my desire.
They licked at my clit, making it throb, and I sank my fingernails into the tight ripple of the muscles in his back.
My heartbeat was out of control, skin too sensitive under his fervent attention.
But I didn’t want him to stop.
With a slight tilt of my hips, Mason slipped inside, my breath stuttering as he filled me completely. His eyes locked on mine, dark and greedy. I could see everything he was feeling, and felt just as helpless in hiding anything from him. I wanted him to know what he was doing to me.
His head dipped to the curve of my neck where a muffled growl tore out of him. I could feel his restraint, felt him holding back even as he thrust into me over and over.
I gulped for air, pulse thrumming, and started moving my hips in a deliberate rhythm that matched his pace. His moan reverberated through me, deep and wrecked. One hand shot out to steady himself against the wall beside my head, and he used the support to rock his hips a little faster. Harder.
He looked at me, lids half-closed but I still managed to catch the blazing flicker in his eyes.
I braced my hands on his chest, barely holding on to the sliver of control I had left.
He was thrusting it all away, fucking me into submission.
And God, he felt so good doing it. So hard and deep.
Beckoning me closer and closer to coming undone.
“Look at me,” he said, voice choked with the effort he used to keep going.
I did as I was told, and Mason drove into me at the same time, burying his throbbing cock until our bodies were pressed tightly together.
It left me gasping, my pussy clenching around his cock as we slipped against each other, slick with sweat.
A dangerous tremble started in my thighs, and my heavy breath broke into little whimpers of desperation.
I was close, and as much as I wanted this to last forever, I couldn’t stop.
Wouldn’t think of it. Not when his breath came hot and ragged against my parted lips, swollen from his hungry kisses.
Not when the rolling of my hips had him clenching his teeth and moaning as it dragged him toward his own ruin.
“Cass—” He choked out, eyes wild with fire. Whatever restraint he had was gone, and we were falling together.
“I’m coming. I’m—”
“Show me,” he begged. “I want to feel you come around me.”
That was all I needed to hear.
I ruptured around him, hips jerking, nails trailing angry lines across his shoulders. I didn’t care how loud I was, or how primal it sounded. No one had gotten more from me. Ever. Not like this. Not like him.
He cursed quietly, body tense as he pushed into me with quick, sharp thrusts. Again and again. Until—
“Fuck…”
He came with a drawn out groan that shook through us both, his cock pulsing deep inside me. My pussy clamped down at the sound of him, refusing to let go until every last drop was spent.
We stayed that way for a while longer, panting into each other as if we were sharing a life force. His forehead came to rest on mine, both of us trembling, shattered.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered, lips lightly grazing mine.
My heart bloomed, full to bursting, and I smiled into the soft kiss he gave me then. “And I’m in love with you, Mason. So much.”