5. Blake #2
The blackout curtains are open. Vancouver’s skyline flickers behind the glass. The city looks clean from up here. Distant.
Now I need a hot shower, then sleep. God, I’m tired.
I finish unpacking my gear. Practice kit, compression wear, hoodie, jeans, and a fresh suit for tomorrow’s departure. Then hang everything in the wardrobe, and my underwear goes in the drawer.
Off come the socks next. Jacket over the chair. Shirt, tie, pants, boxers, folded, sort of, draped on the dresser chair. Close my bag. Drop it beside the closet.
I head into the bathroom, shampoo and conditioner in hand, already thinking about hot water and five solid hours of dead sleep before we go to war.
The tiles are cold under my feet. Lights glow low and warm. The glass shower stall is clean and wide. I lean in, twist the handle, and the pipes groan for a second before water starts gushing from the rain shower above. I place the bottles on the narrow shelf, labels facing out. Habit.
Steam creeps up the glass as the water heats. I test it with a hand, still lukewarm. Give it a few more seconds. Then I step in.
The first hit of heat smacks my chest. Then my shoulders. I brace a palm on the tiled wall and tilt my head forward as the water pours down my neck and back. It feels good. Better than I thought it would. “Jesus!” It’s hot enough now to sting a little. I let it.
I stand, just breathing for a minute. Not thinking about the game. Not about line rotations or puck possession. Just the water and the silence.
Then her. Cassy.
Naked and twisted beneath me, head thrown back, hair spread over my sheets, her voice rasping into my ear. The weight of her thighs locked around my hips. The way her nails scraped down my ribs. And her mouth— God. That mouth .
My jaw tightens at the same time as my dick hardens. Water splashes off my skin as I shift under the stream. That night shouldn’t be in my head. Not now. Not when I’ve got shit to focus on.
But there she is. Again. Like she never left. I've tried so hard to ignore her. Ghost her, and pretend that night never happened. But it did.
I grab the body wash and scrub my shoulders, arms, chest, thighs, and rub the frothing foam around my hardness, trying to fight the burn building in the pit of my stomach.
I rinse off fast, then grab the shampoo and lather it through my hair, as the tone of her sensual moans echoes in my mind.
Rinse. Condition. Wait. Let the water run while I press both palms to the wall and stay still.
She’s still there. Her face clear as day.
The water hammers my shoulders like it’s trying to drown the memory. It doesn’t, and there's no chance it will as I find my hand naturally grips around my cock and slowly starts moving.
My eyes shut. Steam curls around me, and now I can see her. She's right in front of me. Her head tilted back, water slicking down her long blond hair, and her skin glistening under the overhead stream.
Droplets roll off her collarbones, over the soft curves of her breasts, trailing down her stomach in slow lines like they don’t want to leave.
My arms move instinctively. I wrap them around her waist in my mind and pull her into me, her back to my chest. Her skin’s hot, soft, and wet. I bury my face in her neck. Her breath catches. “Ohhh,” That little sound, half gasp, half moan, makes something deep in my gut tighten.
I turn her head, my mouth brushing against her jaw first. Then the edge of her mouth. Then her lips.
It starts slow. Just pressure. Heat. The slide of her lips against mine, water sliding between us. She turns in my arms, hands flat against my chest, mouth opening under mine as if she’s been starved for this, like I have.
Then it builds.
Her fingers in my wet hair, pulling. My hands gripping her hips, pushing her into the tile. Her mouth, God, her mouth, is fierce now, like she wants to ruin me with every kiss.
Tongues tangle, teeth drag, and breath is stolen. Her thighs press into mine, slick skin on slick skin, heat swirling everywhere.
“Cassy. Damn, do I want you.” I kiss her harder. She gives as good as she gets. The soft noises she makes, those are mine. That edge of desperation between us, mine too. Her fingers rake down my back, her mouth hungry, tasting, taking, not stopping.
Steam thickens. Water pours over both of us. Her nails dig into my sides. My grip slides up her back. Her moan against my mouth makes my stomach twist, hard and low.
I start kissing her shoulders as the hot water cascades over us. I work my lips down over her chest, sucking on one nipple.
“Oh, yeah...” Her moan is soft, barely there.
With her nipple in my mouth, I feel the back of her hand graze down my tummy, her delicate fingers curling gently around my cock, squeezing it.
I lean my head back, facing up from where the water is coming down over us. She pushes me back against the steamed-up glass, sensually dropping to her knees, as she glances up at me with a real naughty smirk. “I know just what you need, Blake Mitchell.”
On her knees, she starts softly kissing the head of my cock, then kisses every inch of my shaft down to my balls.
I put my hands on her head as she gently sucks one of them while stroking my cock.
“Uhhh...” I growl, as she looks back up at me, licking my dick to the top.
The sensation is all-consuming and way more than overwhelming. My aching cock throbs and I feel her lips part as my dick slides into her hot mouth.
“Jesus Christ...” I moan, pushing her head back and forth on me. “You... uhh... are... uhh-uhh, are so... uhh... good at this...” Every muscle in me tenses, the pleasure almost unbearable.
She pulls my dick out for a moment, examining it.
“People are always good at what they love doing. And I love sucking a cock. Especially one as big as...” She licks it, then says, “This.”
She slips it back into her mouth and carries on sucking.
I’m getting closer and closer, feeling that tingle in my balls start rising.
“Uhh-uhh-uhh. Cassy, Cassy, I’m... gonna…”
I’m pulling her head back and forth on me, just as I’m about to spurt my cum, but she teasingly pulls me out of her mouth with a smile. “Oh, no, you don’t, Mitchell. Not yet anyway.”
I lift her gently by her shoulders and take in her leggy, sultry body. Steam and hot water cascade over us, and our lips collide in a fury.
As we kiss, I back her against the glass of the shower, starting to trail kisses over her breasts, one at a time.
My hand roams down between her legs, parting them, as my fingers push between her lips and brush over her clit.
“Fuck, YES!” she moans.
I make my descent down to her belly, then go further down, kissing her blond pubic mound.
The hot water streams down my face as she lifts her right leg onto my shoulder, and I replace my finger with my tongue.
Softly I lick and suck her clit, her moan echoing through the steam. “FU-U-UC-KING HELL...”
As I lick, I slide two fingers gently inside her, glancing for a moment at her pink pussy lips before using my tongue on her clit again.
I feel her hands scrunching my wet hair, her breathing getting heavier and heavier.
“BL-A-AKE...” Her loud groan falls out on her breath, and I can taste her pussy as her juices start to flow.
She’s getting more and more worked up, fisting my hair.
“Uhhh-uhhh, yes-yes,” she screams, her body starting to quiver.
Her climax rises higher and higher until she’s shaking and screaming.
“JESUS,” She’s now flying out of her mind with her orgasm.
As she shakes, I stop dead and watch as her body quivers. Then I stand, holding her tightly, lifting her as both of her legs wrap around my waist.
She shakes. I momentarily stop, and her body quakes.
She takes my shaft in her hand and rubs it over her pussy, whispering, “Fuck me, Blake Mitchell. Fuck me!”
I slide it into her wet pussy, whispering back, “With pleasure, Ms. McCullum, with pleasure,” then start pumping in and out.
Her arms drape over my shoulders, and I hold her tightly, thrusting, gaining momentum faster and faster. In and out, in and out.
“Oooohhh...” she moans, our bodies molding into one.
The water sprays over us, steam swirling as we grind faster, harder, and harder, until, “Oh, Blake, YES, YES, YES...” Her next orgasm crashes over her, and she sinks her teeth hard into the skin of my shoulder.
I'm already there, and with one last feverish thrust, “Uuuhh...” I freeze as my seed spurts, filling her right up inside.
“BLAKE... Ahhh...” she moans, clinging to me as the last glob of cream fills her. Motionless and silent, bodies together, we desperately catch our breath.
Then her lips crash onto mine like we’ve both hit our limit. It’s messy. Wild. Desperate. Teeth, tongue.
Her fingers rake through my wet hair, as my hands lock around her perfect naked body, pulling her tighter, like I can’t get enough, like I’ll never get enough.
And then—
Gone. And just like that, I open my eyes. No Cassy. Just steam, white tiles, hot water, and me. Alone.
My chest is still heaving like I just finished a third-period overtime. My pulse refuses to calm down, and my throat is dry even as water slams into my mouth and onto my skin. Everything lingers like it actually happened. Like I can still taste her on my tongue.
I reach for the tap, my hand unsteady. The water slows, turns cold, and then stops with a final hiss.
My fingers are wrinkled to hell. Every muscle is tight, and with my head spinning, I step out as water drips down my legs, pooling at my feet.
I reach for the towel and wrap it low around my waist, grab a second, and scrub it through my hair, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror.
Steam curls around the bathroom like it knows what just went down in my head.
Christ.
I walk out into the cooler air of the suite, still damp, feeling like a goddamn idiot. Looks like that girl’s in my bloodstream, and no amount of hot water’s going to wash her out.
***