Page 62 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

twenty-six

I should leave.

My pussy clamps on nothing but air at Lucien’s authoritative tone, even when all he’s doing is talking to his friend. Or arguing? I’m not sure anymore since neither man is yelling, but they appear equally angry and friendly if that’s even possible.

Judging by the way he turns to leave, I expect the captain not to listen, that he’s going to storm away and never look back, but as he reaches the door his large palm presses it close with a soft snick , turning the lock as told.

With the click of the lock, he releases all of his tension, all of his worry, all of his concern.

I watch it melt off him like warm butter as he turns to face Lucien again.

Whatever animosity they share lingers, and though it feels dangerous there’s something else there too.

“Come here,” Lucien orders, crooking a finger and pointing to the ground in front of him.

That uneasiness I felt festers, spreading from the point of impact to the fringes of my resolve.

I should leave.

My conscience implores me again and again that I should leave but my feet remain glued to the closet floor.

“First, tell me you’re okay now. That you’re good,” says the captain, his back to the exit like its home base and the only safe space for miles around.

“I’m fine. Now come here,” Lucien demands again.

“A-are you sure?” The tall hockey captain shuffles from foot to foot and I’ve never seen such a big guy look as nervous as he does right now.

Lucien isn’t small by any means, but this guy has at least a few inches on him and twenty more pounds of muscle. With toasted brown skin, sweat slicked and glistening, he appraises Lucien a moment longer, looking every bit a Herculean god.

Lucien pierces him with a glare that strikes fear even in me. “Now,” he repeats, finality in his voice.

This time the captain doesn’t delay. Doesn’t pause.

Doesn’t stop. He barrels straight for Lucien, until he’s right on top of him, kissing him like a man starved, like he’s been waiting all day for this very thing .

. . and Lucien kisses him right back. With desperation and relief.

Gripping the back of his neck and holding on tight like he’s finally back where he truly belongs—with him.

I stutter a strained gasp.

There’s no amount of resolve left inside me to prevent the onslaught of tears.

They roll fast and heavy down my cheeks.

I didn’t see this coming. Lucien’s always alone.

Every time I followed him, he was alone .

I didn’t think . . . I didn’t consider .

. . I choke on a sob, clapping a hand over my mouth.

I try to stuff it down, but I can’t. It hurts too much, the pain is unbearable.

I knew this night would end in heartbreak—I just didn’t think it’d end so soon.

I didn’t think it’d end like this . I mean, I know we aren’t together -together.

We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. We didn’t swear allegiances.

Hell, I’m not even sure we’re friends to be honest, but we were something, weren’t we?

If even for a little bit, I was his, wasn’t I?

He said I was his . Shouldn’t that have meant he was mine?

He took me on a date. We talked about things. Things I don’t share with anyone else. He gave me all of that shit about Bradford, questioning his role in my life. Bradford might be an idiot and overbearing at times, but he wouldn’t do this.

I bite my thumbnail, relishing the taste of copper as it glides over my tongue. I pace the small space as much as it’ll allow. It wasn’t all in my head. He said he was crazy about me. And I believed him, because I was crazy about him too.

I let him cut me open in more ways than one. I let him hold a knife to my skin and claim me as his . That shouldn’t be something you can fake.

I let him . . . touch me, and . . . oh God, I told him I was a virgin. I offered him everything .

What if this whole time he’s just been laughing at me?

What if I’ve been some desperate horn dog so obsessed with his dick that I followed him around like a lovesick ferret vying for scraps of his attention?

He’s been calling me a stalker all night and like an idiot I took it as some term of endearment.

I played a dangerous game of life and death all for the sake of his attention. God, I’m so stupid.

With my face in my hands, I cry a little more.

I thought he was different. That he wouldn’t use me like everyone else does.

I thought I was going to be used in the way I wanted, that I was finally going to reap the reward I rightfully deserve, but I’ve stretched this out far longer than this was ever supposed to go, trying to fight a destiny that was never going to change.

Maybe this was as far as I was ever going to get.

Maybe Bradford was right and I’m being ridiculous, going through some last-ditch rebellious phase.

Some spoiled rich tantrum I threw because ‘mean ol’dad’ wouldn’t let her have her way anymore.

And now I have to get home and face facts.

I’m going to belong to whoever my father says I belong to.

I’m going to have my virginity taken by whoever he deems worthy.

So, I need to pack and leave this place, for good.

Hand on the door handle, I brace myself to push it open. I’ll walk right past them if I have to, but then I hear a long, slurred sucking sound.

“Oh, yes, that’s it. Take me deep,” Lucien moans.

My hand leaves the door, pressing to my lips as I watch his captain on his knees, with Lucien’s dick in his mouth.

“That’s it, Trev, just how I like it.”

Lucien’s head lolls back and he groans as his captain bobs his head up and down his shaft expertly, like he’s done this before. Many times, if I had to guess.

My suspicions are confirmed when Lucien says, “Fuck, you’ve always been a natural.”

His captain’s hand grips Lucien’s cock, firmly twisting up and down the length as he sucks it from base to tip. His beautiful dimples on display as he hollows his cheeks and sucks him deeper.

“Oh, fuck , you’re so good at that,” Lucien praises his efforts.

Rather than sadness, jealousy overtakes my system.

He’s sucking the dick I was supposed to suck, earning praises I was supposed to be earning.

And why does he have to look so fucking beautiful doing it?

Would I look so beautiful with Lucien’s cock shoved down my throat, saliva leaking down my chin?

Tears lining my eyes and mascara smeared down my face?

Would Lucien look at me like he’s looking at him?

He said he would. He said I’d be perfect, so why is it him down there and not me?

“Deeper. That’s right, choke on it. It’s what you deserve after your little show downstairs.

” Lucien’s hips rut into his captain's stretched mouth. “That hurt, by the way. It’s only fair I hurt you back, right, Trev? It’s our favorite game to play after all.

You hurt me, I hurt you, and you fucking love it. ”

Lucien shoves in further, his captain moaning deep and growling in response to Lucien’s punishing thrusts. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. The sounds of their sordid pleasure chill the white-hot anger brewing inside and my breath quickens.

With shaky fingers, my hands dip between my legs, wetness seeping through the fabric of my thin panties in response to their sexual act. In response to his captain’s eager moans and tousled curls as he nods to Lucien’s songs of praise.

My fingers slip beneath the slim band.

Doesn’t Lucien know how much it’d turn me on to make him feel like that? To have his balls drawn tight and his cum filling my throat?

I slide a finger over my slit, running along my opening. Back and forth.

Arousal coats the digit as I spread it over my throbbing clit, imagining it’s me down there and not his fucking teammate.

But, fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing, bringing Lucien to orgasm with practiced ease.

I want to hate Lucien for what he’s done, but the more I try, the wetter I become. I’m soaked.

Shit, even when I’m upset at him, he elicits this reaction.

I grind against my palm, bracing myself against the door frame.

The closet is drenched in Lucien’s scent, every textile a reminder of what we’ll never have. This is as close as I’ll ever get to coming with him.

Trevor gags around Lucien’s cock with no resistance, as I plunge a finger inside, slowly stretching myself before pulling back out.

My breasts press against the door, the slats rubbing against my sensitive nipples as I chase my orgasm.

I whimper, almost to the end.

But then Lucien pulls out of his captain’s throat with an abrupt yank, moaning a curse before he’s. . . laughing. “Oh, I knew tonight would be fun. Get out here, Princess, right the fuck now.”

I stop strumming the sensitive bundle, flashing open my eyes, a little unsure of when they closed in the first place . I snatch my hands from between my legs and cover my mouth, afraid I’ll make a noise and be found.

His captain’s green eyes frantically search the room before he and Lucien both settle on the closet. Lucien’s golden eyes smirk at me while the other glares.

“I know you’re in there,” Lucien singsongs. Shit , how did I ever manage to seek him out before? He’s so goddamn perceptive.

Putting on a brave face, I swing the door open, doing my best to appear composed.

Fists clenched, I address Lucien first, compelled to explain the misunderstanding before he accuses me of stalking again.

“Look, it’s not what you think.” Famous last words, Sydney .

“Said no one ever,” Lucien chides.