Page 2 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)
ONE
AIDEN
The ice glowed under the dim lights of the arena. The smell and the cold air enveloped me, filling me with a peace unlike any I’d ever known anywhere else.
Home.
This rink and the couple who were trying hard to keep me from seeing them. I smiled as I ran through some more edge drills. The slicing crunch coming from my skates echoed across the expanse of the rink and bounced off the boards. It was a sound I’d never tire of hearing.
I loved it.
Another thing I loved…
My parents. Coach and Anya were awesome. And as much as I loved living with them, I was looking forward to being on my own. The year I spent at the local junior college was great because I got to experience college but still live at home, since the JUCO coach and Mikal knew one another so well.
All that would change in a couple of weeks .
A whistle cut through the air, drawing my attention. Ice flew from my blades as I skidded to a stop. Turning, I smiled and waved at Coach and Anya. One smiled back, and the other tapped their wrist. No clue who was who.
Skating over to them, Coach said, “You need to take it easy, kiddo.”
“As if he is any different than you ever were, Mikal,” Anya said.
I bit my lip at her, admonishing him. She wasn’t wrong. I learned my dedication to training at his hip. I still remember the day I met him. And I chose the second one. It had been too good to pass up.
“Come, let’s eat and discuss what we will do tomorrow.”
Coach and Anya moved off, and I made my way to the locker room for a quick shower and change of clothes.
I’d be back on the ice for morning skate with the youth league kids as soon as they started pouring through the doors, putting them through their paces, but Anya wouldn’t let me eat unless I had washed off the stank.
Not that I blamed her or felt she was wrong.
I gagged myself once I pulled off the gear and got a good whiff.
I rushed through my shower, pulling my long, reddish-brown hair into a knot on top of my head as soon as I toweled it dry, and then I dressed in a hurry. My stomach growled angrily. The bane of being a hockey player—near constant hunger and funky-smelling locker rooms.
My phone dinged as I closed the door to my locker, making me realize I’d not grabbed it or my headphones.
The sounds of incoming skaters echoed in the hallway outside the locker room doors as I snatched up my devices, slammed the door shut, and rushed toward the exit.
I had no desire to be in the locker room with a bunch of kids.
The door burst open just as I got to them. Sighing, I stepped out of the way as people spilled into the locker room. I leaned against the wall, checking my phone to avoid all the greetings and chatter from the kids passing me by.
Morrison
You lucky fucking dog.
Aiden
***
Morrison
LINK
Aiden
What’s that to?
Morrison
The club you’re taking me to the first chance I get to visit.
I made sure the sound on my phone was off before clicking the link. You couldn’t trust Shane Morrison with knowing what you should and shouldn’t text or when.
The link opened to a website with only a logo and a place to enter your name and birth date. I backed further away from the doorway before clicking anything else. Then, I decided just to call him.
Squeezing through the onslaught of people coming into the locker room still, I turned away from the breakfast my stomach growled for and headed to the only place I knew I could grab some privacy.
Moments later, I shut myself in Coach’s office.
The exact same one I got caught sleeping in all those years ago .
I hit the call button as soon as I dropped onto the couch, the phone ringing loudly in my ear before Morrison answered.
“Did you see?” he asked as the video chat request popped up on the screen and rang in my ear.
Rolling my eyes as I answered, I said, “No. I was in the locker room,” when his face filled my screen.
“Was being the operative word. Click it now.”
I cleared my throat and reopened the browser on my phone. The website popped up. After entering my birth date, a banner for a BDSM club flashed on the screen. A needy groan filled my chest, and blood rushed south, making me thankful I was alone and seated when the photo under it loaded.
The black-and-white image of a guy, on his knees, head down, eyes closed, and bound in an intricate pattern of black ropes, filled the screen.
Beautiful was the only word that came to mind.
Utterly breathtaking. And while I wasn’t into bondage for myself, the image was still seriously hot.
I couldn’t imagine having restraints like that, especially not for as long as it took to do the rope work pictured.
“What the hell, man? This isn’t anything like what I’m into.”
He should know this. We’d bonded over hockey in high school and then again in JUCO when we realized we were both into older men and kink.
He leaned toward the more hardcore stuff, and I was okay with some of it, but being tied up like the guy on the website?
Yeah, no thanks. A spanking, choking, really rough rapefucking?
Absolutely, sign me up, and put my name at the top of the list, but I had no desire to wear restraints.
Ever .
“Dude, peel back the damn curtains and take a look around. They have dedicated nights for the stuff you like. Specifically, Daddy/boy nights that aren’t only for littles.”
Biting my lip, my gaze darted around the room, double-checking I was still alone. Even though no one came in since I had, and I’d locked the door behind me. At least I think I did.
I clicked on some links before landing on the upcoming events page.
Sure enough, there it was, just as he said.
Morrison continued rattling away in my ear, talking about his buddy who played for the Nighthawks, who was a member of the club in Nashville like this one.
Then he talked about the membership fee. And my heart plummeted.
I didn’t have money for that. Coach and Anya paid all my bills.
They were my parents, yes, but they hadn’t always been.
Before Coach found me squatting in his office, I’d lived on the streets as a runaway foster kid.
Taking their money, even if they offered it, felt…
weird. Like bugs creeping around under my skin, weird.
So, I did my best not to spend money on things I didn’t actually need.
My eyes widened at the membership costs when I clicked the link.
“Aiden? You still there?”
“Man, this place is way outta my price range.”
“It’s because of the privacy shit, dude. With the major league teams in the area, I’d say they cater to some high-end clientele.”
Not that expensive for a kid who drove a luxury sports car and wore jeans that cost more than a week at some of the roach motels the hookers turned tricks out of in my old neighborhood. I didn’t say that, though .
My phone dinged, and my eyes bulged.
“What did you do?” I asked as I read the series of text messages that popped up on my screen.
EDGE
Welcome to EDGE.
We are an all-inclusive BDSM community that allows kinksters to explore boundaries in a RACK/PRICK manner with like-minded individuals.
Due to the nature of our community, all new members must be fully vetted prior to being granted full membership. Failure to complete the registration paperwork for vetting by the due date will result in your membership fee being returned and future applications.
Until the vetting process has been completed, you will not be allowed on the premises.
Don’t attempt to circumvent this process.
You will be caught, stopped, and doing so will get you banned and your membership fee will be forfeited.
However, all applicants may attend the Sunday Morning Munch held every Sunday at 10 a.m. Locations rotate to various establishments around the city. Once registration paperwork is received, your contact info will be added to the weekly text blasts with the munch location and menu.
Expect an email detailing all this information.
Please click the link below to complete the registration process.
“Congratulations on moving up to D1, dude. ”
“This costs…”
“If you know the price, then you looked at the membership page. So you should’ve seen that it comes with guest passes after ninety days. I fully intend to use every single one of those. I wanna find a Dom to tie me in a knot like the guy on the home page.”
I shook my head. My goal was to get drafted before my senior year. I promised Anya I would finish my degree. And I fully intended to do so, but I could do that online if the team didn’t hold off signing me until I finished school. If that happened, I wouldn’t even be here for the year he paid for.
“If I get drafted…”
“Do you never listen?”
“Of course I do,” I lied.
“Dude, your nose will grow like Pinocchio’s, and that’s not the kinda wood you need to pop.”
“Tell me, oh wise one, what I missed, then?”
“Well, if you’d paid attention, the owners of EDGE have several locations around the country. Apparently, it’s a bunch of military guys who dreamed up the idea and started clubs as they moved around or something.”
“How do you find this stuff out?”
“My buddy on the Nighthawks, Gavin?” he paused for me to answer, but I waited him out.
“Gah! Anyway, Gavin’s Doms know the guys.”
“Wait? Your friend Gavin, who plays for the Nighthawks, my dream team, is not only gay, but has two Doms? ”
“Well, yeah, but that’s all I’m saying.”
I’d give my left nut for a spot on that team and to know that there was someone who might not only actually get my lifestyle choices but be in the community, too… well, that just really pushed them up on my list even higher.
“Where are the rest of the clubs located?”
“I know there’s one in San Diego and Nashville, and there’s one near Manchester U.”
“I wonder how long the vetting process is?”