Shut Out (9 page)

As Jacob skates away from that, adjusting his helmet, I experience a fluttery sensation low in my belly. “Whoa,” I breathe to Ella. “I think I just had an orgasm.”

She giggles and leans her shoulder into mine.

“I should hate this,” I say. “It's violent and brutal. I feel guilty for being turned on by it.”

“Uh-oh. Did you just become a puck bunny?”

“No! Well, maybe.”

“No, no, I don't think you meet the definition.”

I slide her an amused look. “There's a definition?”

“Yeah. A puck bunny is only interested in hockey players because they're hockey players. Since you started seeing Jacob before you ever saw him play hockey, and you don't even like hockey, that's not the case.”

“Truth.” I nod. “Plus, the term ‘puck bunny' is a little demeaning and slut-shamey.”

“Whatever, Skylar.”

I'm a little overwhelmed by the Bayard Pep Band playing songs that people are shouting along to. There are all kinds of taunting cheers the crowd is yelling at the refs and at the other team. And there are a lot of mysterious names being shouted out at various points when the band plays that confuse me. I have to say, the fans here are really, really into this game. It's kind of cool.

My gaze follows Jacob down the ice. He gets the puck at the other team's blue line. There's a Princeton guy right behind him and two flanking him, trying to get the puck away from him. I don't know how he does it, but he stick handles around all three of them, skates in on the net, shoots, and scores. The crowd goes nuts.

“Wow.” I shoot Ella a sideways glance as we stand, clapping. I lean over closer so she can hear me over the roar. “He wasn't lying when he said he's good.”

“He said that?” She smiles. “Cocky much?”

“Oh yeah, he's cocky. But it appears he has good reason to be.”

I watch him skate by the bench and bump gloves with the other players to celebrate his goal. “That's so cute.”

He leaves the ice and scootches down the bench to make room for others. He's sweating and panting and holy duck fuck, my pussy is throbbing. He grabs a towel and cleans off the inside of his visor with fast, practiced movements, then focuses on the play as they drop the puck at center ice. He and the other guys all yell as one of the Bears gets the puck, beats the Princeton defensemen, and races toward the Princeton net alone.

“Breakaway!” someone yells behind me, and everyone is shouting, “Go, go,
go
!”

When he shoots and misses, there's a huge collective groan. Weirdly, I'm more interested in watching Jacob on the bench than the player who could have scored. Jacob sits back at the missed shot and slams a hand onto the top of the boards.

Now I wish Jacob was my real boyfriend because, holy hotness, I want to jump him and ride him like a mechanical bull.

When Buck and I arrive at the party after the game, I immediately spot Skylar from across the room as she looks around with a hesitant smile, searching out…me, maybe? Or maybe anyone she knows. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear in a gesture becoming familiar, one that makes my chest feel weird. I head toward her.

I noticed her in the stands at the game. I was focused on the game, but knowing she was there made every goal and assist that much sweeter. I wanted to impress her, because so far she's been decidedly unimpressed with me. I'm not used to that.

Our eyes meet and her smile widens. It doesn't feel like we're acting. When I reach her, I slide my hand around the back of her neck and kiss her forehead. “Hey, you're here.”

“We just got here.” She gestures to Ella behind her.

“Hi, Jacob.” Ella smiles at me.

“Hey, Ella. Come on in. Let's get you ladies a drink.”

“We brought Moscato.” Ella holds up a bottle.

I lead the way to the kitchen, where there's a bar set up on an island. I open one of their bottles and pour generous portions into red cups. “Sorry, there doesn't appear to be fancy wine glasses here.”

“No worries.” Skylar takes a cup and gives me a smile.

I introduce Ella to Buck, and both of them to some of the other guys. Soupy and Rocket arrive and a bunch more people.

“So?” I peer into Skylar's eyes. “Did you enjoy the game?”

She sinks her white teeth into her bottom lip and nods. “Um, yeah. More than I expected.”

Why does she look guilty?

“Yeah? Good.”

“It's super fast,” she adds. “And…violent.”

I laugh. “It's physical, yeah. But there weren't even any fights tonight.”

She eyes me as she sips her wine. “Do you fight?”

“Sure.” I shrug. “I don't look for fights, but there are times you just have to drop the gloves.”

She gives a tiny shudder.

I nudge her with my body. “You're worried about me, right?”

She rolls her eyes, but her lips tick up at the corners. “Sure.”

“I got two goals.”

I instantly feel like a dummy for saying that. Like I'm fishing for compliments.

But she beams at me, eyes glowing. “I know! It was so exciting. And two assists.” She hesitates. “Not that your ego needs any boosting, but you're really good, Jacob.”

My chest tightens, but I keep my expression easy, a little cocky. “Yeah, I am.”

She swats my chest, but she's laughing. I catch her hand and slide my fingers between hers.

“It felt great,” I say honestly. “I love playing hockey.”

“I can see that.”

Our eyes meet and we share a moment of…something. She understands. This is my passion.

Skylar seems kind of buzzed and she hasn't even finished one drink. She's almost vibrating and tense, and her eyes are hot.

Okay, wait…she's turned on.

My dick takes notice of this. My dick
always
takes notice of Skylar, but knowing she's hot for me because of watching me play hockey is even more arousing. The eye contact shifts as Skylar's gaze drops to my mouth. Blood rushes south. I want to kiss her so badly, it's like I'm starving. Heat explodes around us. “Whoa, baby,” I murmur, reaching to stroke some hair back off her face. “Keep looking at me like that I might have to get you alone and screw you silly.”

She inhales sharply and her lips part even more.

“Do you want that, baby?” I pet her hair more. I love how silky it is. And how long.

“Okay, yes,” she whispers. “But sex wasn't part of the deal. And we're supposed to take it slow.”

“Maybe we could just make out for a while and see how it goes.”

She chokes on a little laugh, which is good because I was trying to be funny. Sort of.

Okay, I do want to make out with her. A lot.

“How're you feeling, baby?” I shift closer so our bodies are touching. “Are you aching?”

Her eyes go dark gold and her lashes droop. She swallows. “Oh God. Yes.”

“Me too.”

What am I doing? Damn, she gets me all hot and twisted up inside. Why is that? I have puck bunnies coming on to me all the time. Yeah, they like it that I play hockey. I like it that they like that. But for some reason,
Skylar
liking it is a whole different hockey game.

Lust punches through my stomach, heat rushing through me.

“For Chrissakes, would you two get a room?”

Buck's amused voice cuts through the fog of lust surrounding us. I exchange a wry glance with Skylar, whose cheeks go adorably bright pink, then shoot Buck a scowl. He's grinning.

“
Great
idea,” I say.

“We're putting on a good act,” Skylar whispers in my ear.

I laugh at that and slide my arm around her waist to pull her up against me. She feels slight and delicate and I like that because I want to protect her. “Baby.” I nuzzle her ear. “This is no act.”

“Okay, true.” She tilts her head and gives me a sleepy-eyed look. “We're physically attracted to each other. But we're not really a couple.”

“Sure.” I'm good with that. “Wanna go find a room?”

“Um.” She presses her lips briefly together. “Yes. But no.”

“Damn.”

This is funny, considering that I turned down her offer to find a room and now she's turning me down. Only I'm not laughing.

“I can't stay late. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Again, damn.” I sigh. She's right. I recognize that voice in my ear—it's reason. Dammit.

I need to listen to that voice. I need to stay out of trouble this year. Having Skylar as my fake girlfriend is supposed to help me do that.

It's working. No other girls are throwing themselves at me or even flirting with me, although a couple have given me interested looks. But why do I feel like Skylar could be a whole lot of some other kind of trouble?

I give her long eye contact that makes my dick even harder, then turn. With my arm still around her waist, we move back into the crowd to mingle. It's not a huge party, but obviously people here are hockey fans who were at the game and who're eager to congratulate us on the win. Some guys want to dissect the play and discuss possible lines and how we could do better. I love talking hockey, so this is fun for me. Skylar's listening and seems engaged, but I wonder how much fun it is for her. She's doing a great girlfriend imitation, though.

Skylar and I separate as she starts talking to some girls about a course they were in together, but a while later she's back. “I'm going to find Ella and head home,” she says, rising on tiptoe to speak into my ear.

I pull out my cellphone to check the time. “I guess it is getting late.”

But after looking around, we can't find Ella. Skylar bites her lip and casts a glance up the stairs.

“You think she's up there?”

“Probably. Let me text her.” She quickly sends a message.

“You think she'll answer you?”

“She better. We never leave each other at a party unless we know the other's safe.”

I nod, impressed. “That's smart.”

Skylar's phone pings and she peers at it. “She says she's fine and she's going home with Eric.”

“All right. Did she drive here?”

Skylar shakes her head. “No. We took the bus.”

“Okay, then, I'll take you home.”

“You're okay to drive?”

“Yeah.” Again, I'm on my best behavior because if I got caught driving drunk, I'd be out on my ass. “Let's go.”

I find Buck talking to Jimmy, and give them both slaps on the shoulder as I tell them I'm taking Skylar home. Leaving this early would get me some snarky comments normally, but since I'm leaving with a girl I get smirks of approval.

Skylar is quiet on the drive to her place. This makes me nervous. I've been with lots of girls, and there've been a few I dated more than once, but I've never had a real girlfriend, so I'm not that great at knowing what's going through a woman's head. Skylar's not really my girlfriend, so I'm not sure why it matters to me, but I like her.

So since I've always found it best in hockey and in life to just go for it, I say, “You're quiet. Everything okay?”

She gives a quick nod. “Oh yeah. Sorry. I'm…I've been a little concerned about Ella lately.”

“Why's that, baby?”

“She's been acting different since our friend died. I mean, I'm not all judgy and prissy. It's fine to drink and hook up with guys. Yet every time I try to talk to her, it comes across as me nagging her like a mom, or being a big prude.” She rolls her eyes. “So I've backed off, but she gets drunk every weekend and she's been hooking up with a lot of different guys.”

“Huh.” My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “You know, that sounds like normal college stuff.”

“Yeah, I know. That's why I've backed off. It might be just me overreacting. But I have this feeling that even though she says she's okay, she's not.”

“Ah.” I like it that she cares about her friend, but I don't like it that she's worried. “You know her better than I do. If you have a feeling, you're probably right.”

She turns to me, her face shadowy in the dark car. “Thank you. Thank you for saying that.”

Did I do something right? I don't even know. I nod.

I park in front of Skylar's house and walk her to the door. The house is dark so I wait until she unlocks the front door and steps inside to turn on the hall light.

I want to kiss her.

She's not my real girlfriend, so I don't have to end this “date” with a kiss…but I want to. Every time I think about kissing her and how sweet her mouth was and how soft her body was pressed up against me, it turns into me either fighting off a woody or wanking off. “So about that making out…”

She gives a soft laugh that relieves me. “Come in.”

I follow her inside and close the door behind us, my blood racing hot and straight to my dick. We walk into the living room, where she turns on another light, a big floor lamp in the corner. I sit on the couch and lift my chin.

She's so pretty. I watch her walk toward me, her jeans hugging her hips and thighs, the hem of a sheer top fluttering beneath the thin sweater she has on over it. Her long hair shines gold in the light. She sits beside me by first setting one knee on the couch cushion, then tucking that leg beneath her, and she rests her arm on the back of the couch so she's facing me.

I shift so I'm facing her too. “Are your roommates all out?”

“Yes.” She traces an index finger down my chest. “I don't know if making out is such a good idea.”

“Yeah.” I think I know where she's coming from. “But we both want to do it.”

“Yes.”

I lean in and touch my mouth to hers in a soft kiss. Her breathing hitches and her eyelids droop. I draw back and wait, studying her. Pink washes into her smooth skin and her soft lips are parted.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

There we go. I reach for her and pull her closer, tilting my head and finding her mouth with mine. She makes a low noise that sounds like relief or pleasure or maybe both, and that's exactly how I feel too.

With one hand on her hip, I tangle the other into her hair. Tingles work down the back of my neck and my spine, centering in my balls. Need for her burns over my skin. I use my grip on her hair to gently adjust the angle of her head and I feast on her soft mouth, licking inside, biting at her lips.

She opens to me, so sweet and lush, her body melts against me, and I know I'm in big trouble. One of her hands slides into my hair and pulls my head to her, even though we can't get any closer. Our mouths are fused together. Her other hand is on my back, pressing, like she's afraid I'm going to get away, and holy hell that makes me so hot. My dick is throbbing.

She makes a soft sound full of desire and I'm dizzy with lust for her. She tastes sweet, her tongue is small but strong against mine. I suck on her top lip, then her bottom lip, gliding my hand up her side, letting my thumb brush against the outer curve of her breast.

I keep kissing her and kissing her, sliding my tongue around hers, sucking on it. Then our mouths part and we both gasp for air. My heart is thudding so hard I can hear it in my ears, my chest rising and falling with rapid respirations.

“Wow, Jacob.” She rubs up and down my back, over my sweater. “You're such a good kisser.”

I focus on her mouth, my vision a little blurry. Her lips are puffy and wet, and Jesus, my dick leaps. Lust is rampaging through me, shorting out my brain and making me stupid. All I can think is how much I want her.

“You are too,” I manage to utter before going back in for more kisses. “Want your mouth again. Give me your mouth.”

I get my arm around her slender torso and maneuver her beneath me so we're lying on the couch now, me half on top of her, my thigh between her legs. Her hair is spread out all around her head, so gorgeous. I kiss her lips, then run my open mouth along her jaw, suck gently on the skin beneath her ear, then lick it.

A moan leaks from her lips and her hips lift against my thigh. I meet her there because I know she needs that pressure. It's making me nuts. “Want to make you feel good, baby. So good.”

She makes an unintelligible sound and runs her hands up and down my back and over my shoulders. Then she finds skin. Her hands slip under my sweater and T-shirt and clutch my bare back.

“Damn, baby. I love how hot you are for me.”

“I am.” She seeks my mouth with hers again, sounding almost like she's surprised. “I am hot for you.”

Nobody's home. We can do whatever we want. That stupid voice of reason is speaking in my head again though, reminding me that I'm supposed to be avoiding situations like this.

But I don't want to stop.