Page 22

Chapter 22

RIP, Tempo

Jayna

Braydon was too damned good at boyfriending. This evening with Faith had been perfect. I’d been able to forget, for a while, that my future was a black hole.

We left together. In the elevator down, he asked if I wanted a ride. I frowned at him. “Taking me home will make your trip, what, almost an hour longer?”

“Traffic isn’t bad this time of day.” He looked at the panel, listing the floors as we passed them. Not meeting my gaze.

There were so many reasons why suggesting this was a mistake, but I still had a few days before I could share with the team that I was retiring. Braydon had been a buffer at dinner tonight. I’d managed to mostly avoid Megan, but she knew me too well. Spending time away from my apartment might be a good idea. “I could go to your place.”

His gaze snapped to mine. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

He studied me. “We don’t have to?—”

“I want to.” I wanted to forget my problems, and this man could do it. Was it bad to use him when he knew what I was doing? He was getting orgasms out of it, after all.

“You said once. Then twice.”

“Braydon, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“I do.” He huffed a breath. “I’m just a little confused.”

He had a point. I’d set limits, and now I was ignoring them. It was time to be clear. “Why don’t we make this fake dating with benefits?”

He chewed on his lip, then nodded. The elevator doors dinged and opened. “This way.”

* * *

Braydon’s roommate Luke was playing a video game on the TV when we arrived.

“Mitch. And Jayna.” Luke narrowed his gaze.

I pasted on a smile. “Yep, it’s me.”

Braydon missed the tension between us. “Do you want a drink, Jayna?”

“No, thanks.”

“We’re going up. You need anything?” he asked Luke.

“Noise-canceling headphones?”

My cheeks warmed. Braydon just laughed. “Do I need to remind you about that girl in Buffalo?”

Luke’s expression relaxed. “I swear she was putting it on. I mean, I touched her elbow and she moaned like she was doing porn. It was awful.”

“Worse on my side, dude.”

Braydon ignored him, linking our hands to lead me upstairs. Last time, Braydon had taken care of me. This time, I wanted to return the favor. And I swore I wouldn’t mess up his hockey life.

Once we were in his room with the door shut, I grabbed his shirt in one hand and tugged him toward the bed. A smile curled up the corner of his mouth, and he let me lead him. When he was standing at the side, I turned him toward me while I dropped onto his mattress.

“So, kneeling is an issue for me…” His eyes widened and the smile dropped. I reached for his belt.

“You don’t have to?—”

I paused and looked up at him, my palm rubbing the hardening ridge I felt behind his zipper. “I know.”

I undid the buckle and clasp before pulling the zipper down. I went slowly, watching him watch my hands, his chest lifting in long breaths. I wanted to see that chest again, but first…

His pants fell, catching on his powerful thighs before dropping to the floor. He was wearing the same kind of boxer briefs, his cock, now mostly hard, pressing against the fabric. I pulled the briefs down to his thighs and took the time to examine his cock. Hard, uncut, large, in proportion with his body. His treasure trail led to a blond patch of hair at the base, his balls snugged up behind.

I ran a hand up his thigh, tracing over his abs. He quivered beneath my touch. I skimmed to the base of his cock, and up to the tip.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned.

I tightened my grip, pulling the head toward me. I nuzzled against it with my nose, running up and down, enjoying every twitch and shiver I got in return. I loved the power that doing this gave me. How a man, bigger than me, maybe stronger, surrendered to what I wanted to do to him. More so than sex, where the exchange was mutual. This was me, deciding what to give my partner, and him taking what I was willing to give.

I needed to feel powerful right now.

With him watching every move, I stretched out my tongue and ran it over the head. His eyes closed and I opened my mouth and took him deep.

“Jayna,” he whimpered. His hands reached for my hair, fingers digging into the strands.

I dragged my mouth up, licking, and then swallowing deep again. With one hand I stroked his balls, and with the other I gripped his hip, keeping him close.

He didn’t try to take over, thrusting too deep or controlling how I took him. He just stood, thighs tense and trembling, abs tight, as I licked and sucked and gave him pleasure.

I finally pulled back, jaw getting sore. His hips jerked, cock stretching for me, and he opened his eyes again. His pupils were wide, his mouth slack.

He drew in a long breath. “I almost came.”

I nodded. “Go ahead. This time it’s all about you.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to see you come too. Clothes off.”

I could live with that. His hands reached for his sweater, ripping it off over his head. I gave him a gentle shove backward so I could stand and strip.

Braydon was ahead of me, quickly stepping out of the pants and underwear I’d partially removed. I’d taken off my shirt when he reached out a hand to my bra. I was wearing purple today.

“Can I?”

I nodded. I’d never had a partner more appreciative of my indulgence.

He traced fingers over the lace and around the hard nubs of my nipples. I shivered and he smiled. He finally reached behind and flicked open the hooks, easing it off gently. “So pretty.”

I didn’t know if he meant my bra or my breasts, and I didn’t much care. Dropping the bra on the bed, he reached his hands under my ass, lifting and then laying me down on the bed. He leaned down, kissing over my breasts cradled in his hands, and then sucking on my nipples and sending heat straight to my core. I wanted more. “Someone said clothes off.” He rolled back, giving me room to unzip my pants. I lifted my hips to slide them off.

“You have the best underwear,” he sighed as the matching panties were exposed.

He helped drag off my pants. For a moment I thought he was going to ask to hang on to my panties— hello, matched set and these things aren’t cheap —but I was finally naked, and his expression showed his admiration.

One of his hands moved over my ribs and belly while he looked around the room. “Got an idea.”

He stood, reaching for me. I let him pull me up, not sure what he had in mind but willing to explore with him. He bent to his bedside table and opened a drawer, grabbing a condom. Then he gripped my ass again, lifting me to his dresser. He set me down on it, swiping a collection of clothes and junk to the floor.

The surface was hard and cool on my ass, but his hands gripped my hips, now at the same height as his. The setup had possibilities, and my knee was good.

“Okay?” He put the condom package beside me.

I nodded.

He leaned over and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lost myself in his taste. Braydon rubbed his lips on mine, nibbled and sucked, and his tongue slid into my mouth. I pushed back and he let me lead in turn. My bare breasts rubbed against his naked chest, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, bringing him tight to my body. I was wet and ready, breath coming fast and hard. His erection rubbed against my abdomen but I needed it elsewhere. I pulled back and slapped my hand out to find the condom.

He panted as I opened the packet with trembling fingers. His eyes closed as I carefully rolled it on him, his muscles tense. Then I shifted my hips forward over the edge of the dresser, his hands supporting me, and leaned back.

“Ready?” he asked, voice low.

“Ready,” I agreed, tightening my legs around his hips.

He moved forward slowly, brow creased, breaching my body inch by slow inch. I welcomed him in, my back resting on the mirror behind me, hands tight on his shoulders.

When he was fully inside me he paused. “Good?”

The angle hit just right. “Better if you start moving.”

A brief smile crossed his mouth before he pulled back and snapped his hips forward. I moaned as the nerves in my pussy lit up.

He braced his legs to plunge into me, sliding me back, only for his grip to tighten and pull me toward him. My arms wrapped under his, hanging desperately to his shoulders as he continued to move, filling me, winding me tight, bringing me so close.

The dresser rattled. Loudly. And again.

“Luke is going to kill you,” I gasped.

He bit his lip. “I forgot he was here.”

I muffled a giggle against his chest, imagining how Luke would tell him off for this.

He tightened his hands on my ass and lifted, moving me through the air, bringing us both back to the bed. He laid me down, and then braced himself over me. “Good?”

I nodded. He twisted his hips and resheathed himself inside me. I moaned, welcoming him back.

“Missionary works just fine.” He grunted. “Are you close?”

“Getting there,” I panted.

Balancing on one arm, he reached down to my clit for a gentle caress, enough to tease but not take me over the top.

“More!”

He thrust faster, pressing down harder with his fingers.

“Yes, yes, yes…” I chanted.

“I’m gonna—” he breathed, but I was already coming.

I held him close as my body shook and I never wanted to let him go.

* * *

Morning meant facing real life again. I pushed Braydon to take his usual run and then caught a lift with him to the arena. Since there was a game that night and I’d be working through it, I had time to transit home and shower before heading back to my office.

“You okay?” Kira asked when she stopped by.

I shrugged. “Okay enough.”

“You’ve been doing great with Mitchell. Every second post he’s made has been about the Bonfire game this weekend. Ticket sales are up twenty-five percent. Merch sales are also up, even yours, and you’re not playing.”

“You think it’s because of him?”

Kira shrugged. “It’s been the biggest change in our promo. The Bonfire are playing well, and you’re good at your job, but he’s got guys on the Inferno and Blaze liking and reposting his stuff, so it’s spreading farther.”

“That’s great. We appreciate the support.”

Kira nodded. “Once the Bonfire know about your knee, we should have a meeting. Discuss what’s going to happen once you’re no longer a Bonfire.”

My stomach clenched, and the breakfast sandwich I’d gobbled down threatened to make a return appearance. “Sure.”

Kira waved and left.

Fuck . I knew they’d have to replace me on the Bonfire PR team, but did this mean I was done with the Blaze as well? What the hell was I going to do with myself?

I wasn’t supposed to retire for years yet. I was going to play in at least one more Olympics, maybe two. The Canadian team was so strong, I’d be almost guaranteed another medal if I made the cut. With credentials like that, I had a chance for a future in hockey off the ice. Now, what did I have to offer anyone?

I pulled out my phone. This wasn’t something I wanted to show on my Blaze laptop. I logged into one of the job apps and did a quick search. The results were depressing. Toronto was an expensive city. I had some money saved, but the cost of living would eat that up quickly.

I breathed through the panic. I wouldn’t take any steps until the Bonfire finished their season. I’d find out how long I could keep working for the Bonfire and Blaze. Then I would panic. In the meantime, I had work to do.

* * *

Saturday night I was handling both the Blaze game and the Bonfire since they were playing on the same night. I was at the arena for the Blaze, since the Blaze were much bigger than the Bonfire as far as money and fans went. But this was the championship game for my team, so my heart was there. As it was, I was grateful for the distraction of the men’s game because the women’s game was tight.

No score after the first period, while the Blaze were up 2-1. At the end of the second period, the Blaze were up 4-1, but the Bonfire were still scoreless, down one goal. During the third, the Bonfire tied it up, but then allowed another goal. Instead of biting my nails like I would have done if I was there in person, I had to deal with two more goals scored against the Blaze, making their game a much closer 4-3.

There was a scuffle around the Blaze goal, and for a moment it looked like Braydon might be called in. It held up the game while penalties were sorted and Petey stretched, watched over by a trainer. In the end, Petrov stayed in the game and the Blaze protected their one-goal lead.

The Bonfire lost while all attention was focused on the net in this arena.

I ran through the motions of finishing the game coverage here, while my heart was breaking for my teammates. Part of me wanted to turn off any mention of the women’s game, pretend it hadn’t happened. But it was my job to post and monitor and respond.

The team was gathering at Anna’s house after and invited me to join. I should go.

I was still technically part of the team. But I’d wanted to say goodbye to the team when they were on a high. Not like this.

I finally dragged myself out of the office and headed to the regular exit since I wasn’t meeting Braydon. Most people had gone—this hadn’t been a big game for the Blaze. The cleaning staff was at work, but the hall was quiet as I made my way to the arena doors closest to the subway. I stepped out, bright lights illuminating the sidewalk like day. A voice came from beside the door.

“Hey.”

My heart accelerated for a moment, fight-or-flight response kicking in, until I recognized Braydon. He stepped out of the shadows, still in the suit he wore to the arena. I had my hand on my chest, catching my breath after the scare of someone appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry.” He ran a hand down my arm, catching my fingers with his hand. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just wondered how you were doing. I followed the game.”

He didn’t mean the Blaze game—he’d been watching that from the bench. He’d followed the Bonfire game. And then waited to see how I was doing. I’d never dated a guy like this before. Someone who just fit me so well. He was considerate. He understood my passion for my sport, and knew exactly what it entailed because it was the same for him. He saw me, understood me, and knew when I might need help.

The objections I had about dating a hockey player? Didn’t stack up against my need for him at this moment. Selfishly, I wanted something good in my life right now when so much was fucked up.

I turned to him, gripped his face in my hands and kissed him for all I was worth. Telling him I appreciated him, that he was incredible. That I needed him tonight, when my world was in chaos.

I pulled back. “Thank you.”

His hands rested on my waist, warm and comforting. “For kissing you?”

“For being there. For being you. You’re a better boyfriend than any of the so-called real ones were.”

His hands tightened. “I don’t feel like a fake boyfriend right now.”

“It feels real, doesn’t it?”

He nodded.

I leaned forward and kissed him again, lust sparking in my veins. I wanted to take him home or go to his place. I wanted to spend time making him feel good. I wanted him to make me forget losing my career, this championship, everything else but him. He could do it—had done it before. We could go to my place. Megan would be out— “Shit.”

“Hmm?”

“I have to go to Randy’s, our captain’s place. The whole team is there—end of season, losing the game, getting drunk…”

He drew in a breath. “You have to go. Okay. Call me tomorrow?”

I nodded and drew him in for yet another kiss. When I pulled back he leaned forward, reluctant to let me go. “I have to go now or I won’t go at all.”

He stepped back. “Let me get you an Uber. It’s too late for transit.”

I’d often taken transit at this time, but tonight I’d accept the help. I was walking without my cane, but my knee tired easily. My brain bounced all over—the end of the season, the end of my career, what job I could get, my new non-fake boyfriend. It was a lot.

He pulled out his phone and found a car just a block away. He walked me to the street, waiting the thirty seconds it took for the car to pull up.

The driver recognized Braydon and promised to make sure I arrived at Randy’s safely. One last kiss and he closed the door behind me.

I fell back against the seat. I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t a hockey player; I wasn’t part of the Bonfire. Instead, I was dating a hockey player. The me I thought I was turned upside down. It was a lot to process, and I still had a tough challenge ahead of me. The day felt endless.

I found a sad group of women at Randy’s place, well on their way to getting drunk.

“Tempo!”

The greeting hit me hard. I was an emotional mess tonight.

“Damn, we could have used you tonight.”

I felt guilty for not being there. Might as well tell them why. I drew in a shaky breath. “I’m done, guys.”

Confused stares met me. Megan waved a glass at me. “Yep, done with work and here to help us celebrate this stinking loss.”

I wanted to accept her interpretation and pretend this wasn’t the last time I’d be with this team as part of it. But wishing didn’t change anything. My hockey career was over.

I grabbed a bottle of champagne that someone had bought hoping to celebrate a win. It was open, half empty, and I held it up. The team raised their glasses or bottles or, in one case, a Cheezie, in response.

“I loved playing hockey. Still love the sport. But my knee is officially done, so I am too.” I took a swallow. Not the best champagne, but I drank another mouthful anyway.

It took a moment for the news to work through the alcohol. Megan burst into tears. Faith lurched up to wrap her arms around me, and then the whole team was there, a massive group hug. It was sharing together the pain of our loss. It was thanking me for what I’d done for them. And it was goodbye.

Then I finished off the bottle while the team ignored their loss for a few minutes asking about mine.

RIP, Tempo.