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Lennon

I wake up to swearing and the smell of something burning. Luke’s side of the bed is cold, and sunlight streams through the white curtains. For being rich, he could certainly afford blackout curtains.

There’s clothes all over the floor, but I bypass all of them and slide open a drawer of his dresser. Finding a T-shirt of his, I pull it over my head and do my best to finger-comb my hair in the mirror on the wall. It’s a hopeless cause. The curls I so carefully put in last night are a tangled mess, courtesy of him constantly running his hands through them, and the makeup I didn’t wash off is smeared beneath my eyes. I lick my finger, attempting to wipe as much away as possible.

Whatever. His face was literally between my legs last night, so does it really matter what my leftover makeup looks like?

I walk out into the kitchen, and my legs feel like jelly at the sight that greets me. Luke is shirtless, dressed only in a pair of dark gray sweatpants, with his hair mussed from sleep and sweeping it back from his forehead. The veins in his arms pop as he stirs something on the stove. The muscles in his back flex with the movement, and butterflies swarm in my stomach as I take him in.

It takes him a few seconds to notice me. His head shoots up, and a lazy smile tips the corner of his mouth as he takes in my bare legs and the fact that I’m wearing one of his shirts.

“Morning,” he says, voice gritty from sleep. I walk over to the island across from the stove and lean against it.

“What are you making?” Whatever it is, the smell curdles my nose, but I try to keep the disgust off my face.

“It was supposed to be pancakes,” he mutters while frowning at the pan like it personally offended him. “I’m not a huge breakfast guy,” he admits and tosses the blackened pancakes into the garbage.

“Clearly.” I stifle my laughter but fail. Luke shoots me a dirty look, but it only heightens my amusement. “What do you normally eat for breakfast then?”

“Protein shake, eggs, I don’t know. I’m not whipping up five courses before our early mornings.” He sets the dirty pan in the sink before leaning against the opposite counter.

“And you decided to try today?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you might be hungry.”

“You did wear me out last night.” I wink at him and he shakes his head.

He doesn’t respond right away, and when he looks down at his feet, I can feel those damned walls of his climbing again.

“Don’t,” I tell him, my voice surprisingly firm. “Don’t try to shut me out. Not after last night.”

He rolls his shoulders back before raising his eyes to mine. I hate the torment I see behind them. “Last night was?—”

“Don’t you dare say it was a mistake.” That cut would run so deep, I don’t know if there would ever be a way to come back from it.

He holds his hands up. “I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

My chest warms at that.

“But that doesn’t mean that it should’ve happened.”

“I thought we were past fighting this,” I grit out, frustration clogging my throat.

“I’m your coach.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m also twelve years older than you.”

“I’m also aware.”

“Why don’t either of those things seem to bother you?”

“They do. I can’t lose my scholarship, and hockey is the most important thing in my life right now. But I’m also tired of pretending like I don’t like you. That I like being around you. Despite you more often than not being a dick to me.”

He scoffs. “You can dish it back.”

“Not saying I don’t,” I concede. “But those things seem insignificant when we’re alone, just the two of us. Don’t they?”

His throat bobs. “Yeah.” The way I slept in his arms last night, the safety and comfort I felt the entire way through, how could that be wrong?

“Then let’s just enjoy this, alright? When winter break is over and everyone is back, this little bubble that we’ve been in since last night is going to pop, and I don’t want to spend our time where we can see how this actually goes constantly focusing on the reasons we shouldn’t be doing it. Do you?”

“No. But it won’t always be like this. If we’re going to do this?—”

“We are.” I give him a pointed look.

“Then we need to be careful.”

“We will be.”

He steps forward and rubs his hands down my arms. “You seem awfully confident about that.”

“Because in case you haven’t noticed, when I put my mind to something, I do whatever it takes to get it. And right now, I want you.”

“You do, huh?”

I bite my lip and nod, hands brushing against his bare abs. He jolts with the light touch, and I drag my fingers lower, teasing his waistband. “I can still feel you between my legs this morning.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters as his hips buck beneath my touch. I love getting a reaction out of him. Maybe I have since the start, and that’s part of why I haven’t been able to stay away. To see someone usually so detached, so aloof, and be able to get some sort of reaction out of him…it’s satisfying.

And thinking back to last night and the way he lost control with me, I want him to do that again.

He dips his head, waiting for a kiss, but I smile coyly and dodge his advance. He frowns, but that quickly melts away as I sink to my knees and lightly push him back against the counter.

“Lennon,” he says my name like a plea and curse wrapped into one. His fists ball against the edge of the marble. The wood floor is cold beneath my knees, but I’m anything but chilled.

My blood runs hot throughout my body as I look up at him through my lashes, seeing the imposing figure he makes as he towers over me. His abs flex, and I feel a pull between my legs at the sight.

Slipping my fingers beneath his waistband, I tug his sweatpants down. His cock springs forward the moment it’s free, hard and dripping already. My mouth waters at the sight, and Luke cups the back of my head. Not to push me forward, but more like an anchor for us both. A connection point when I’m in such a submissive position.

A thrill shoots through me.

I love it.

I begin to pepper kisses up his thigh, feeling hard muscles beneath my mouth, and tease everywhere around his cock until he’s practically shaking. The grip in my hair tightens, and I smirk, knowing I have him right where I want him. He may be my coach, but I’m the one in charge right now.

Finally, I wrap one hand around his cock, and a guttural moan rips from his throat as I twirl my thumb around the tip. Slowly, making sure he’s dying for it as much as I am, I lean in and flick my tongue around his slit.

“Fuck,” he groans, and my scalp stings at his commanding grip on my hair, but it doesn’t deter me. If anything it spurs me on more.

He’s salty and warm and thick as I move my hand down to take in the exposed length with my mouth. I can’t fit him all in, and when he reaches the back of my throat, I gag and pull back.

“That’s it,” he says as I spit on him and rub it in with my hand. His hips rock with my rhythm, chasing the sensation.

My hands squeeze and twist him at the base while my mouth teases over the tip, sucking and twirling my tongue around. My jaw begins to ache, but I ignore it as Luke’s moan’s grow deeper and his hips move faster. If I had a free hand, I’d reach down between my legs and touch myself because fuck, watching him unravel beneath my touch is making me wet.

He hits the back of my throat again, but I was prepared for it. Instead of pulling away, I flex the muscles, squeezing his tip, and he mutters a curse under his breath.

“Shit, baby, keep going. I’m going to come.”

And that is precisely when I slow my hands down and pop him out of my mouth. My lips are wet as I lick them and look up at him. His dark eyes set me on fire as his grip moves from my hair to my jaw. I see the question in his gaze, and I grin. “Not so fun being left on the edge, is it?”

He pales slightly, shock coating his features, until amusement cracks through. “This is your payback then?”

I give his cock a gentle stroke, and his brow furrows, obviously wanting more. I’m not actually going to withhold his orgasm from him. I want it just as much as he does. But I also want him to know that he doesn’t hold all the cards in our relationship. He may be older, he may be my coach, but we’re equals in this.

“Not payback,” I say. “Just a reminder that we’re in this together. We’re equal players on this team. Got it?”

His jaw ticks, but there’s a spark in his eye that tells me he’s enjoying this. “Are you issuing orders to me now?”

“It’s only fair, don’t you think?” I tease.

“Hmmm, I don’t put much stock into fair . But if this is your way of sending a message, message received.” His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and I lean into the touch.

But it’s gone a moment later when he grips my jaw again and angles my face upwards. “Now that that’s taken care of, shut the fuck up and swallow your coach’s dick like the overachiever I know you are. Then once you’ve made me come, I’ll think about returning the favor.” His words make my core clench, and I shift on my knees, dying for relief at the ache they’ve created. But by the hunger in his eyes as he looks at me, we both know I’ll be on the receiving end shortly.

“Yes, Coach,” I say, before taking him all the way to the back of my throat once more.