Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“What the fuck did you do last night?” Volkov asks.
“You get some good pussy or what?” Stevens adds.
“Or dick…or ass. We’re a progressive team, guys, remember?” Mads chides. It’s always him who thinks of shit like that. I’m bi and proud, but I don’t always remember to make sure the guys aren’t going to the default of straight.
“We know, Madsies.” Volkov ruffles his hair, the group of them joking around together, but I’m still stuck on the first question. What did I do last night? I swapped blowjobs with Harry. While I woke up with a smile still on my face, once we were on the ice, the spectacular sex I’d had last night went to the back of my head. But now it has slammed into me the same way I’d nailed Seattle’s forward to the boards earlier.
Is swallowing a load of his cum the reason I was Super D-man tonight? That might sound like a load of BS, but us hockey players are superstitious as fuck. I met a guy last night who was more intriguing than he should be, got great head, and then played like a fucking king…and I’m never going to see him again.
I’m also fairly certain I don’t even know his real name.
I don’t have much time to think about it, though, because I have to get cleaned up then head out because the press wants to talk to me. Once I’m done, I pull on a Dominating Athletics tee. Part of my endorsement deal with them is wearing their product in my after-game press interviews. I’m handed a Dominating drinking bottle too and head toward the press room.
My hair is wet from my shower as I sit in the chair and grin at the room full of people ready to hit me with a barrage of questions.
I fucking love it.
Well, if we’d played like shit, I wouldn’t have, but after a game like this, all it does is pump me up even more.
“How are you all doing?” I ask, then take a drink of water from the bottle.
“You played one of the best games of your career out there tonight,” one of the journalists says.
“I know, right?” I waggle my brows at her and get a chorus of laughs in reply. They love it when I play along, when I act charming and make jokes. “Who knew I was so good?”
“I think we all knew you were this good,” another says.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I was trying not to project overconfidence. Thanks for ruining it for me.”
I earn more laughter from them.
“Seriously, though, you played like you have something to prove, and whatever that is, you nailed it. What made tonight so special?”
I run a hand through my hair, figuring the best response isn’t really good head. “I don’t know, man. Some nights you’re just on. Tonight was that night for me, but I couldn’t do it without the rest of the team. Stevens and I worked as a unit, holding Seattle back. On the rare occasion someone got a good shot on goal, Mads took care of the rest. It’s a team effort.”
They continue asking questions, and I play my part, grinning, joking, answering, until I’m finally set loose.
We have a quick talk with Coach in the locker room, then hop on our bus, heading to our chartered flight for DC.
The plane is quiet. We ate a meal on board and then everyone else has passed out in their seats, but I can’t stop thinking about my cute little good-luck charm and how much I wouldn’t mind hooking up with him again.
CHAPTER SIX
Hayes
It’s my last day in Seattle. I can’t wait to get back to LA. While I enjoy traveling—it’s what I’ve always known—since settling in Los Angeles, I love the times when I can just stay in one place. Plus, for some reason, I keep expecting Rylan to jump from around every corner and point out to everyone that I had secret, back-office sex with him…or for it to somehow show up online. Like, he knew who I was and tricked me, trying to pull one over on someone from the Jilted Exes’ Club.
And yet, this quiet voice in my head tells me Rylan wouldn’t do that. There’s something too genuine about him, but then, I never would have thought Malcolm would do the things he had either. Clearly, I can’t tell a good man from a bad one.
Still, my time with Rylan had been electrifying, gratifying, awe-inspiring, and—stop that. I had my fling with a sex god. There’s no reason I should still be thinking about him. In fact, one of the things I’m most excited about doing when I get back to LA is finding my next fling. I wasn’t joking about having all the sex, but after how mind-blowing it was with Rylan, I’m even more inspired to continue on this path.