Page 78 of Heartbreak Hockey

Landing a hard smack on my ass, he runs off before I can retaliate. And dammit, now I know it’s not my hat. Ah, fuck it. Let’s toe the line for a bit.

* * *

Gotta say, it’s pretty nice having rich owners who believe in treating us well when we travel. Sometimes they spring for the private plane and it’s awesome. Best food. Best seats. We can sit four at an area and play poker. Me, Casey, Dirk, and Dash start a game. Stacey’s fast asleep with what I’m pretty sure is my hat over his face. I can’t see the initials—they’re on the inside—but my brim is more curved than everyone else’s from bending it when I’m anxious.

We’re getting rowdy. It’s one of those times when I wish we could chug some beer. The gleam in Casey’s eyes says he agrees. “Hey, here’s an idea—strip poker! No one here’s got nothing we haven’t seen in the locker room.”

Coach walks out from where he was snoozing at the back of the plane, in time to hear about our strip poker game.

“Hey, if we get naked on a plane, do we get to join the mile-high club?” Dirk asks.

His question goes unanswered. “If you guys have been drinking,” Mercy says. “I swear to—”

“Not a drop, Coach,” Dash says.

Mercy’s jaw stiffens. He narrows in on me and I’m treated to a glare that says I might be in trouble. For what I do not know, but I’m down for whatever he wants to dish out.

“Leslie, a word in private if you wouldn’t mind.”

There’s a chorus of “oooOooohs” from the team and heat climbs my neck. Mercy’s already walked away and in the direction of the rear of the plane. The seats are huge, tall La-Z-Boy recliners, organized in pairs. Mercy leads me to the back where no one’s sitting. This section has a narrow bed against the wall and a leather seat beside it that’s like the others, but it faces the back of the plane.

If the guys try hard enough, they can see us, but we’re otherwise obscured.

Grabbing me by the back of the neck once we’re seated on the narrow bed, he catches me in a kiss full of all the turmoil swirling around him. We kiss until we’re in desperate need of air and then pull apart gasping for it.

“You’re not playing strip poker,” he informs me.

Whoa. What a rush. My body sizzles. “Can I suck your dick, Merc?” I say all fucking breathlessly.

His eyes flick to the guys up front. He wants me to. “Not here, but I’m definitely putting your mouth to good use the first chance I get.”

“Uh-huh.” I rest my forehead against his. I just wanna … wanna be here. Right here. It’s like I’ve finally found a place to rest after a long emotional slog. “Hey, uh, when we’re home, do you think you’d have time to see me? I know you’ll be busy with your family and—”

“Yes.”

I smile. A big dopey smile. “Okay, it’s a date.” I kiss him again.

“All right, trouble. Get back to your friends and give this back to Casey,” he says, taking the hat off my head, revealing the mess underneath. How he even knows whose hat is whose is beyond me. I don’t even know half the time. I guess mine is easy to tell, but not the others.

“Possessive, much?” Fuck I love that.

“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response. The more well-behaved Alderchuck has yours,” he says as if he doesn’t know Stacey’s first name. “Get it back.”

The inside of me smiles right along with my face. “How’d you know it was mine?”

“Because you bend the shit outta your brim.”

He noticed!

We kiss again. Then again. And again. “You know, someone told me I’m not allowed to play strip poker anyway. What’s the use in me going back up there?”

“The use is that my willpower is paper thin when it comes to you. So, unless you want them to see me split you open on my cock…”

Jesus! We are so doing that at home. “I am an exhibitionist, but that’s probably a bad idea.” Though right now, my brain can’t think of why.

He hands me the hat. “Go.” He kisses me one more time.

When I return to the boys, I slide my hat away from a still-sleeping Stacey and replace it with Casey’s before taking a seat next to Casey who’s already lost his shirt. “Just in time. You want me to deal you in, Leslie?”