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Ryker stepped out onto the ice a few minutes ago and is in the process of stretching. He's ice cold, having been sitting in the locker room and watching the game on a TV monitor. He'll be stiff, and without having been caught up in the ferocity of play out on the ice, he won't be as invested.

Not that his heart won't be in it, but his mind won't be as involved.

Simple fact of backup goalies.

We are so fucked.

And to make matters worse, because Claude hooked a breakaway player, Atlanta is going to have a penalty shot on Ryker. They're going to have an opportunity here really soon to seal this game.

As they lift Max to the stretcher and start to strap him down, I skate over to Ryker, who has now lifted himself up off the ice from his stretches and is skating in small circles.

He sees me approach and gives me a wry smile. "Not how I wanted to get in the game."

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze as we watch them start to wheel Max away.

"You got this," I tell him confidently. "You're a fucking veteran. One of the best goalies in history."

"Damn straight," he says back, with a flash of teeth and a confident smile. "Not going to let that puck in."

"We'll celebrate over beers when we put these fuckers away," I counter.

"I'll be the hero of the century once I seal this up," he says with a chuckle, and I give him one back.

But then we quiet and get serious, because our banter is born from nervousness and we need to push that aside.

"Seriously," I tell him as I step in close, put my hand on top of his head, and tap my helmet against his. "You got this."

"I got it," he says, and then turns away from me to take his place in front of the net.

--

I need Kate.

I don't want to need Kate. I don't want to need Kate.

But I need her.

I wait for her while she puts Ben to bed and my mood becomes stormier.

There's an underlying poison flowing through my veins right now because we lost the game. And we should have lost it. We've been playing like shit and I don't care what any fan or sports announcer says, it's not fair to put the series loss on Ryker's shoulders.

The guy hadn't played in more than a month and was expected to come into the game ice cold and face a penalty shot from one of the better players in the league?

Fucking impossible.

Ryker did his best. He almost had it too, but the puck wobbled, turned end over end, took a hop off the ice, and dribbled in right underneath his pads.

The guy is fucking distraught. He left the arena without a word to anyone, not that many of the guys on the team were trying to talk to him. I know they won't feel this way after they have a chance to process what happened, but he was getting the brunt of their disappointment in the locker room.

I did what I could. A soft punch to his shoulder after he pulled his equipment off and I said, "Not your fucking fault, man."

He didn't respond and I left him alone.

So my dream of a Stanley Cup championship has been destroyed once again and I'm in a downright pissy mood.

It continues to darken because the only way I think it can be made better is for Kate to give herself to me again.

That in and of itself makes me even angrier.

At myself.

That I've come to depend on her for something.

It's not supposed to be this way. I wasn't supposed to get involved with her. She was supposed to be a fuck and that was all, and yet here I am now, lying in my bed and eagerly anticipating her to walk into my room. To make it all better. To make me forget about every one of my burdens.

And the mere fact that I am depending on her to do this for me has me wallowing in more guilt than I've felt since the accident. I feel guilty I'm using her this way, and I feel guilty that I need her in a way that, for some reason, I never really needed Gina. That has me almost buckling in shame, especially since I just could never give Gina what she wanted.

I can't give it to Kate either, but selfish fuck that I am, I am going to take what she offers me.

"You okay?" I hear from my doorway, and Kate stands there looking at me hesitantly. She's changed into her little pajama set that I love because it shows all of that beautiful, creamy skin. She's no longer self-conscious about her body in front of me, as well she shouldn't be. I've had my mouth on every square inch of it.

"No," I tell her honestly. I know I can't be honest in all my feelings, but I don't have a problem admitting that. She needs to know it so she can understand that tonight won't be hearts and flowers. I need to obliterate the oppressive feelings, and about the only way to do that is fuck my brains out with her until I reach a mind-numbing oblivion.

"What can I do?" she asks as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. She turns the lock as a precaution.

My dick starts to get hard and I reach down to stroke it further to life. "You can get on this bed. I have things planned for you."

Like putting your legs on my shoulders so I can pound inside of you extra-deep.

Kate walks up to the bed slowly, her eyes holding mine. When she reaches the side, she says, "That's not going to work for me."

My hand stills against my cock and I narrow my eyes at her. "Why not?"

Her hand reaches out and she trails her fingers down my stomach. My muscles leap in subservience to her sweet touch. "Because I have things planned for you."

Didn't think it was possible, but I get harder just from those few words. While my intent had been to overtake and possess Kate, to dominate her and do with her body what I wanted to ease my frustration and guilt, I am suddenly very interested to see what she can do for me.

I release my cock and put my hands behind my head. With a devilish smile, I tell her, "I'm all yours."

Doubt and sadness flash through her eyes, because she knows those words are just a figure of speech...they don't mean anything really at all within the bounds of our relationship. But then she gives me an understanding smile.

She's always so fucking understanding.

Makes me feel even more guilty.

Kate turns, rummages through my nightstand drawer, and comes up with a condom. She tosses it on the bed beside me, and then pulls her tank top over her head. I have to suppress the groan when those fabulous breasts swing free and I clench my fingers together behind my head because I want them in my hands so badly. My cock leaps when she shimmies out of her little shorts, panties sliding down right with them.

My pulse starts thumping hard when she crawls onto the bed, pushing my legs apart so she can scoot her way between them. She kneels with the edge of her knees practically brushing up against my balls and stares down at my erection with calculated lu

st.

I'm not sure I'll survive this.

Without a word to me--without even looking up at me--she places her hands on the mattress by my hips and takes me in her mouth.

And sweet, fucking, merciful Zeus...it may be the best feeling in the world. One delicate hand reaches up under the curtain of hair that falls all around her and wraps around the base of my dick when she licks and sucks slowly at me. She's teasing me, getting me worked up, with no intention of me coming right away.

And that's fine by me, because with every touch, all of my worries melt away until there is nothing but her beautiful head bobbing up and down on my cock.

My hands go to her head, and even though I'm okay with the concept of her taking me slowly, my body starts to demand on its own. My hips thrust upward, trying to urge her faster...maybe a little bit harder...definitely deeper.

Instead, Kate pulls off of me, licking her swollen lips while her eyes rise to mine.

God, she's so beautiful. Sweet and beautiful and way too good for the likes of me.

She turns away from me slightly and grabs the condom. She fumbles with it for just a minute, because I normally do this, but she finally gets it open. With determination, she takes it out and carefully rolls it over my swollen shaft, gently smoothing it down and squeezing me when she's finished.

And even though I know what's coming next...even though I've fantasized about her riding me a zillion times, I'm still not quite ready for it when she straddles me.

Our eyes lock, my breath catches and I hold it tight with anticipation. She rises up and then takes me in hand, holding me straight so she can drop down onto me.

And fuck...that first inch into her and my eyes roll into the back of my head, I get dizzy with lust, and my hands clamp onto her hips with an insane need to slam her down on me.

I don't, though. I can feel my pulse pounding, every muscle in my body clenched and my lungs screaming for me to take a revitalizing breath in, but I wait.

I wait, and it's with good reward. Kate's head falls back and her long hair brushes my thighs...it's like I can feel every strand against my skin, and then she pushes all the way down onto me.

"Kate," I groan out reverently, the feel of her body enveloping me so tightly. My fingers dig deep into her hips and I know that will leave marks on her skin.

"Shhh," she says with gentleness as she rotates her hips slowly. "Try to relax, baby."


Tags: Sawyer Bennett Cold Fury Hockey Romance