Page 15 of Mine (The Possession #3)

14

Hunter

S ome crazy shit had happened in my life. Stuff that I’m not proud of, but sometimes I couldn’t be mad with the outcome. I didn’t know about my current situation, it could go either way. First, I made out with the rookie not once, but twice and then found out Valencia is Ruby Dix, the woman I had watched get off on camera and the woman who I had a threesome with, twice.

I was on a fucking roll this year. The moment I saw the tattoo on her hip, the memory of worshiping her body entered my mind. Getting hard while I was volunteering in a soup kitchen was not the way my Thursday was supposed to go. More so, finding out that the Yeti’s social media manager was the woman I had been jacking off to and had paid money to as she chose what toy to use.

I was fucked.

The rest of volunteering turned into torture as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She couldn’t be Ruby Dix, there was no way this woman was her. They had different colored hair, and Valencia didn’t scream sex worker to me, but did we really know anyone from just spending a few hours together a week?

I knew I was staring at her way too often and the moment that it was acceptable, I grabbed my jacket, and ran into Gomez who was staring at Valencia.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, still looking at her.

“You ok?” I asked, putting my jacket on.

Gomez had a blush on his face as he looked at Valencia.

“Yeah, I… yeah I’m fine,” he stammered, putting on his own jacket, blushing even more. “I just… forgot something I needed to do.”

He wasn’t looking at me, but he was still staring at Valencia. Oh god, no. Please let my mind be overthinking this. Gomez could not be the man I slept with too. He was supposed to be straight, off limits and not this distraction he was panning out to be.

“Gomez,” I snapped, his hazel eyes finally found mine and I knew it had to be him, his reaction was odd, and he had also seen her tattoos.

“Riggs, please don’t start now,” he pleaded, glancing at Valencia again, his blush never going away.

“Shit, Gomez,” I said, backing away, shaking my head.

“What?” he scowled. “Look I can’t deal with you too.”

He shook, pushing me away and that’s when I heard him speaking Spanish under his breath. Fuck me . He fixed his jacket before walking out. This revelation was leaving me reeling that my team enemy and the girl I had been shamelessly flirting with because of him were the threesome I had twice.

What the hell was happening? Did I just enter a sexual twilight zone?

“You ok, man?” Easton pulled me from my spiral.

“Yeah, I just gotta go,” I said, wrapping my scarf around my neck.

“Ok well, let’s have lunch some time,” Easton said, looking at me in a funny way.

I needed to leave before Valencia came over and I did something completely stupid. She didn’t need to know I knew who she was and if my instincts were right, I could not let Gomez know either.

Saying a quick bye again, I walked quickly to my car as flurries started to fall. Once I was safely inside, I let myself take the first full deep breath, wondering what the hell I was going to do.

My life felt like a soap opera lately, from making out with my pain in the ass teammate, to sleeping with him and the woman who worked for our team. I was trying to be discreet, only fucking people within the community, but goddammit, what are the chances that Gomez and Valencia were a part of that community.

Our sweet, funny social media manager was a fucking sex worker and the sweet team heartthrob was a fucking rope daddy. Just thinking about how he had Valencia and I tied up made desire pool in my gut. All I wanted was a good time and I didn’t know if I could go back to acting like everything was ok.

So many unanswered questions were running through my head, like was Gomez bi and I didn’t know? Also, he was twenty-two, how the hell did he become a rope master? That took years and… my stomach soured wondering who in their right mind brought him into the community so young.

Dammit, this year was supposed to be focused on getting a championship, not a sexy cam girl and a young rookie with a love for ropes.

We were playing the Vancouver Polar Bears and we had one more period to go. We were tied one to one and I thought we had a good chance at beating them. It also gave me a reprieve from thinking about Valencia and Gomez since that seemed to be the only thing I had thought about since we had helped at the soup kitchen last week.

Things with Gomez were ok once I decided to ignore him and not look for him in the locker room. We couldn’t have a repeat of the kissing encounter. One, it was not good for the team. Two, he was over ten years younger than me, and the last one was because I don’t think he knew who the fuck he was. For god’s sake, he was twenty-two. At that age I barely knew what I wanted, much less, know I wanted to be a part of the kink community.

All these thoughts were in my head, and I was pushed into the boards on my bad shoulder, making me fall. I grimaced as extreme pain radiated in my shoulder.

“That was a cheap fucking shot,” Webber snarled, hitting the guy who just ran into me.

They threw punches and when another opposing team member tried to get in on it, Gomez was there to push him back.

A trainer came out to the ice to check in on me and at that point my shoulder was just throbbing.

“I think you need?—”

“No,” I barked. “I wanna finish the game.”

“Hunter—” he scolded me like I was a child. “It’s stupid to keep playing. You wanna be out for the rest of the season?”

“We need one goal,” I said, getting up.

“Don’t risk it, Riggs,” Gomez said, skating up to me, glancing at me before looking away.

The trainer looked at both of us in shock at his civil display.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, a little more forcefully, not liking that he was being nice.

Gomez rolled his eyes. “Fine, fuck yourself over, we probably need fresh meat on the ice.” He skated away.

The trainer shook his head. “For a moment I thought you guys had worked on your shit. He’s right, Riggs, you’re going to fuck yourself over, just let me look at it on the bench at least.”

I grumbled a yes, skated to the bench, and saw the guy who hit me sitting in the sin bin, but Webber had also landed himself in it too. I shook my head, but Webber held up his hand and I had to hand it to him for sticking up for me.

The trainer moved my arm in a series of motions to make sure I had good motion and no pain. Gritting my teeth I acted like everything was fine. It was painful, but I could handle it. We had eight minutes to go, and I could feel the win. On the next line change, I raced out just as Webber got out.

Gomez was fighting for the puck, and managed to hit it out to Webber who was in the perfect position. He raced down the ice running into two opposing players, hitting it to me, but another player blocked me. Gomez skated in grabbing the puck, deked to the left and slapshot it to the right.

The buzzer sounded and Gomez punched his fist in the air. He was starting to play like the player I had heard so much about. We skated to him to congratulate him, but I kept mine subdued because the last thing we needed was someone catching wind of us being nice to each other and reading into it.

“Congrats, kid,” I said, patting his helmet.

“Thanks,” he said, taken aback.

“You still need work on that slapshot,” I said.

“Jackass,” he muttered, shaking his head, going to the team and handing out high fives.

There was another reason I didn’t want to be nice to Gomez, our banter was the best, and I wasn’t ready to give it up just yet, even if it also made me horny as hell. I was a glutton for punishment.

We had won another game and we celebrated as we skated off the ice. Valencia was snapping pictures of us and giving us high fives, oddly when she got to me, she blushed.

“Good game, Riggs,” she said, a little shyly.

Did she know, too?

“Thanks,” I said, walking away quickly, seeing the smile fall from her face as she frowned.

Was she expecting me to say something? Fuck.

I rushed to the locker room to shower before I ran into Gomez. Getting out of hockey gear was a pain in the ass and with my shoulder hurting it was even worse.

“Hunter, I need to check that shoulder,” the team doc said as he passed by the lockers.

I huffed, not wanting to, but I knew I would regret it.

“Don’t skip out on it, man,” Cap said next to me.

“I know, I’m ready to crash,” I said, feeling my age.

“Yeah, well better be safe than sorry,” he said, taking his jersey off.

“Yea,” I said, removing my pads.

“You and Gomez seem to be doing better,” he said, removing his socks.

I shrugged, not wanting to get into details, the less everyone knew the better.

“Well, you don't have to be best friends, but whatever you're doing during practices is working,” he said, stripping off his underwear. “So, keep doing it and we might have a chance at being a decent team. Maybe even making it to the playoffs.”

I stilled at his words. Hockey players were notoriously superstitious, but what if he was right? We did start playing better after we kissed after that one home game and we started doing better after we had our threesome. Dammit, why did Cap have to say anything?

Maybe regular threesomes weren’t such a bad idea. We could relieve our tension, have fun and win games. The more I thought about it the more sense it made and the only thing that would make it solid was a contract. We would have rules, and an NDA. Dammit! It could be perfect.