Page 35

I raise a hand, my decision firm. “I’m unwilling to subject my child to the turmoil of a tug-of-war between parents living separate lives.”
And I’m not losing my child to some wealthy couple on the East Coast.
THIRTEEN
ETHAN
The past monthshave been an emotional roller coaster, with incredible highs and devastating lows. My departure left my players shocked and confused, and the guilt almost made me reconsider my decision.
Almost.
I had to do what was best for me. My dedication to the sport finally paid off, and I was thrilled to go to LA.
Dealing with my ex-wife was as miserable as expected—a painful reminder of the magnitude of her manipulation and mental warfare. Despite my efforts to part amicably, she made my life hell to the very end.
Moving out was the absolute worst. I packed my belongings as she relentlessly ran her mouth, belittling me and asserting I was nothing without her, that I only had a coaching position because of her. She threatened if I left her, I’d never coach professionally again.
The joke’s on her.
When confronted about the affair, she blamed me. She justified her actions by telling me how horrible I was in bed and how I couldn’t satisfy her. According to her, I’m a sexual deviant. Asadist—which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Still, part of me took her words to heart. There was some accuracy in them. We weren’t compatible. Her satisfaction requires a man to feed her ego, which wasn’t me. I couldn’t give her what I wasn’t feeling.
Another part of me wanted to retaliate by bragging about how hard Aurora came on my cock, but I kept my mouth shut, knowing it’d jeopardize the divorce.
It was my ex who retaliated, wasting more of my time and money by forcing me to remain in Boston while she contested the divorce. She pulled out all the tricks in the narcissistic handbook. She brought her father to the hearing to embarrass me, cried during negotiations to gain sympathy, and lied through her teeth, claiming I abandoned her while she was off fucking someone else.
She denied, denied, denied until I presented images of her screwing the general manager in our house while I was traveling. She rather underestimated my ability to use the security system or assumed I’d always be under her control. Or she didn’t care. Regardless, she finalized the divorce in a day. We both left with what we had. I wanted nothing more.
Now, I’m free from her grip and ready to start my new life in LA. With only a month before the hockey season begins, I’m a bundle of nervous excitement. I hardly slept last night and arrived at the airport hours before I needed to. I couldn’t wait to leave Boston.
Eager to pass the time, I stroll around. I can’t sit still. I’m too anxious to eat, and bars don’t appeal to me.
When nothing interests me, I decide to head to the VIP lounge with a book. I need an escape. I browse through the bookstore, choose a bestseller, and then go to pay.
A familiar face captures my attention, and I come to a halt. I do a double, then a triple-take, my mind struggling to process what I’m seeing.
“Holy. Fuck.”
The book slips from my grasp and falls to the floor. With clammy hands, I reach out and grab theSports Illustrated Swimsuitedition.
On the cover is the hottest, most seductive woman I’ve ever seen, one I’ve also had the pleasure of having wrapped around my dick.
I gawk at a nearly naked Aurora on the beach under the headline, “White Hot: Special Collector’s Edition.”
Aurora, the girl on my mind, graces the cover of theSports Illustrated Swimsuitissue.
Her luscious tits are on full display in a soaked and see-through bikini, her nipples pebbled. She’s on her knees in the sand with her legs spread, pulling down the sides of her bikini and exposing the top of her bare, smooth mound. Her long, dark hair is wet and messy, as if she was fucked on the beach, and my cock thickens.
The most captivating feature, however, is her lust-filled eyes. They gaze right at me, penetrating my soul. I can’t believe I hooked up with this girl in the back of a limo, and it was phenomenal.
Escort Aurora was gorgeous, but swimsuit cover model Aurora is mind-blowingly erotic—like I-wouldn’t-mind-blowing-a-load-on-this-cover erotic.
I’ve been inside this woman, listened to her moan my name and whimper as she came.
No fucking way.
I flip through and find her bio, learning she’s twenty-two. Her birthday is August 23rd, meaning she was twenty-one when we slept together. I’m woozy. I knew she was young, but notthatyoung. Jesus, this keeps getting worse—or better, depending on your perspective.