Page 79 of Cracked Ice (The F*cked Up Players #1)

thirty-seven

W ell, fuck me sideways and back. So this is how far she’s willing to go.

She actually let me piss on her. There’s something so fucking sexy about that.

I’ve never gone this far with anyone before, never wanted to.

But having this level of trust, need, depravity swimming amongst the sea of intoxication between us is more than I can ever ask for. This girl was fucking made for me.

Sydney remains on all fours, looking out toward the trees. The moon is high, and her eyes glisten under its light, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

I crouch down to meet her gaze, only to find tearstains on her cheeks.

It worries me for a second, but then I see her smile.

I’m not used to feeling emotions like worry, because what’s there to fear when I’ve already faced down death, when I’ve already lost so much, but she makes me feel things I never have before. She reminds me my life has meaning.

“That was perfect,” she whispers, her blue gaze telling me I’m the reason her heart fucking beats.

“Aww, Princess, you did so fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes practically glow at my praise. They flutter closed when I cup her cheek, kissing her lips more tenderly than I’ve been with her at any point tonight, at any point in my life. She’s worth being tender for.

“It’s breathtaking,” I murmur.

“What?” she asks. Her forehead bunches and it only makes my smile grow.

“How fucking beautiful you are.”

She looks away, but I see the smile she’s trying to hide from me. “Stop it, I look crazy,” she says, trying to fix her hair when we both know she’s only making it worse at this point.

“You look . . . perfect.”

Her smile releases unbidden now as she picks at her tattered dress. She peers up at me, bites her kiss-swollen lip.

“Come on, let me help you.” I tuck my hand underneath her arm and help her up, the unmistakable scent of urine flooding my senses and reigniting the heat between us.

Every muscle in my body begs to sprint back to her place and reward all her efforts.

I’ve won a lot of things over the years, but no victory has ever been sweeter than what I’ve accomplished tonight because now I get to fuck her and hold nothing back.

There’s no masks, no hiding, just ourselves.

Sydney struggles to rise and I wince. Maybe I went a little overboard today with the games. I tuck my dick away, then crouching back down, I turn my back to her.

“All aboard the Lucien Express.”

Her giggles crack something open inside me and the emotion that drips from the crevice almost brings me to my knees. I don’t want to exist in a world where I don’t get to hear that sweet giggle of hers. Where I don’t get to see her smile.

I look over my shoulder in time to see her bend over to throw my official Bellemere hockey hoodie back on.

Damn, I’m tempted to fuck her again seeing her sporting not just my clothing, but my fucking number that’s etched on the sleeves and back of the hoodie.

If I’m allowed to play in our next game, I’ll have to make sure I get her in my jersey as well.

Then there’ll be no mistaking she’s mine.

I’ll have her sit in my saved seats, and they’ll no longer be empty or filled with strangers; they’ll be hers.

For now, the hoodie works. I’m glad she was smart enough to bring it, yet forgetful enough to leave her shoes. I chuckle as she climbs on.

“You’d better not be laughing at me,” she gripes.

My grip tightens around her thighs like vices when she tries to ease herself off.

“Calm down.” I bounce her up higher and she growls.

“I would never laugh at you,” I say, my tone serious. The last thing I want is for her to ever feel ashamed of what she wants or what she likes. And I’ll kill anyone who’d dare try and make her.

“So, what’s so funny?” Her thighs are strong as shit and dig into my ribs as she tightens them around my torso. She swings her foot in a feeble attempt to kick me in the stomach, but I laugh at the fact that it’s her bare feet that are trying to inflict the damage.

“I probably should have asked this sooner, but why the hell didn’t you wear shoes out here? It’s fucking freezing.”

“Well, I hadn’t exactly planned to be out here,” she huffs. “I had them in my hand, but I guess I lost them with everything going on. Then I had to use them as a weapon to get that guy off me.”

I go still, remembering how Sydney was in trouble, and I wasn’t there to help.

“Relax, tough guy. Pretty sure they thought I was you or something since I was wearing your hoodie.”

She waves her hand flippantly.

My brows fly up my forehead in a way that’d be comical if she could see my face.

“They thought I wore strappy Gucci heels?” I deadpan as I keep us moving forward.

“They’re Louboutins,” she corrects. “But I get your point. Either way, I had it handled. I totally beat that guy’s ass!”

“Yeah, you sure did.” I laugh again, harder this time. Harder still when she joins me, her earlier frustrations melted away, as we shuffle through the tall trees and brush.

“Thank you by the way,” says Sydney, her lips whispering against the tops of my ear. It sends a zing through my body, the way her words touch me, even simple ones like ‘thank you’ soothes me as much as it makes me fucking hard.

“For what?” I’m so distracted by her breaths over my skin I honestly can’t think of why she would be thanking me.

“For inviting me to the party. I had fun.”

“Really?” I crane my head towards her, but she’s not looking away like I expected. She’s looking right at me.

“Yeah, back home I threw a lot of parties but I wasn’t invited to many. Not since Maddie Jameson,” she giggles.

“Who the hell is Maddie Jameson?”

Sydney’s eyes narrow, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes.

“My real arch nemesis.”

I face forward again, her laughter warming me as I carry us ahead.

By now it’s not unexpected for us to fall into easy conversation as we walk.

In the ten-minute span it takes to clear the forest, we talk about everything from the origin of the hockey stick to anime of all things.

I open up some about my family and she tells me about her love of making things, which turns out is also something her dad hates about her.

I fucking hate that guy. I can’t make any guarantees I won’t punch him in his stupid fucking face if I ever see him.

He’s really done a number on her and, what’s worse, she still talks about him with adoration, like she just accepts it because he’s her dad.

I hate hearing her talk about how her mom couldn’t take it and left.

She talks highly of her mom too, who apparently wasn’t an awful mom before she left, just not up to the task of surviving their lifestyle and the people they’d surrounded themselves with.

By the time we’re out of the woods, the street that leads to the arena is empty and quiet. The orange glow of the streetlamps barely illuminates the dark pathway, but we both know the area well, not that it would matter since Sydney is content with letting me carry her like the princess she is.

I’d happily be her carriage. Her footmen too, if she keeps letting me fuck her like that. She’s no puck bunny, that’s for sure. I’m actually pretty sure she doesn’t even like hockey ,but a figure skater? Gotta say I did not see that in the cards for me. It reminds me . . .

“Hey Sydney,” I start. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if competitive figure skating is something you’ve always wanted and loved, why are you giving it up so easily?”

Her body tenses against my back, but my hold on her remains firm.

“I’m not giving it up easily .” She lets the word sit uncomfortably between us before speaking again. “They kicked me off of the team. I have no coach, no choreographer, no sponsors. Are you starting to get the picture? I didn’t give up; I lost.”

“So, do you need to be on a team? Can’t you find your own coach or choreographer or whatever?”

“It’s not that easy,” she sighs. “You saw my practice; I’m not getting any better.

After narrowly missing my shot at the Olympics a few years back, it’s like I lost whatever magic I had left.

I went from being the best, to hitting this plateau.

And now . . . Now it just feels like I’m going backward. ”

“From what I saw, you were fantastic . . .”

“But?” Sydney pushes.

I hesitate, not wanting to kick her while she’s down.

She sighs, jostling side to side to get my attention.

“Come on, I can tell when there’s a but coming.” I crane my neck to look at her. “It can’t be any worse than what I’ve been told before.”

I look back at the road, our turn coming up in a few blocks.

“But . . .” I continue. “There would be this moment of doubt in your head and fear in your eyes. You caved into it every time. You let the ice win.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”

I want to say something else, to make her explain to me why it has to be over.

If she wants to figure skate, she should, but it’s then I notice the streets stop being so quiet.

Swear to God, I don’t have time for this shit.

At this point I’m more eager than Sydney.

I’m out of patience and I just want to get to Sydney’s place and slip inside her.

I never cared that she was a virgin, it wasn’t some deciding factor for me because I just love virgin pussies. What I do love is the concept of being her first, being woven into her life’s story as the one she shared this memorable experience with.

But, we’re about to get delayed again because I have a bad feeling about whoever is around this next corner. Stopping, I gently slide Sydney off my back.

“What’s wrong?” Sydney asks.

“Stay behind me,” I tell her, swooping her back with my arm.

I can tell she wants to ask more questions, but she clings to my back, understanding.