Page 21

“Depends,” she says with teasing grin. “You planning to score again?”

I can’t control the grin that spreads across my face. If she’s flirting with me on purpose, she’s doing a damn good job, so I hoist my duffle bag over my shoulder and stare into her beautiful blue eyes—they have a cobalt hue to them tonight—and tell her, “Every fucking chance I get.”

There have been nights in my past that I’ve laid in my hotel room when we’re on the road appreciating the quiet solace of being alone.

And there have been nights when I’ve appreciated the springiness of the mattress having invited any number of women to join me in my bed.

Those days have become few and far between over the last three years though thanks to Marlee.

That woman has unknowingly cockblocked me on more than one occasion.

She was dating some shmuck of a guy when she joined the staff.

He came around a lot and I was never convinced he was there to support Marlee.

It seemed to most of us that he came around just for the opportunity to ham it up with anyone he could from the team.

We saw past him though and didn’t give him the time of day.

There were so many times I wanted to swoop into her office and ask her out only to hear that she had started seeing someone else.

But that’s my luck, I suppose.

I didn’t man up and tell her how I felt from the get-go so watching her with other men because of my lack of balls was my own fucked up form of punishment.

Dreaming about her when I’m alone has always been my reward.

Just like tonight. I reach over and turn off the light to the side of the bed, the lights of the city now the only illumination in the room.

Sliding under the blankets, I palm my cock while I think about finally getting to see Marlee after tonight’s game. The way she complimented my gameplay.

That’s right baby, because I own the motherfucking ice.

The way she smiled when I caught her flirting.

Maybe she’s beginning to feel it too.

The way her breath caught when I stepped closer to her.

Fuck yeah.

My dick hardens in my grasp and I know I’m about to spend the next five minutes in a state of fucking bliss with Marlee Remington on my mind.

But then there’s a knock at my door.

What the hell?

I glance at my clock and note the bright red numbers flashing twelve-thirty at me.

Who the fuck is knocking at twelve ? —

Knock, knock, knock.

Ugh.

Clearly one of the guys is drunk and forgot his key and needs my help. Or some dumbass thinks this is his room.

Wouldn’t be the first time Barrett has done that.

He’s been known to sleep-walk himself right out of his hotel room on several occasions.

I reach up and slap on the light and then bend down to reach for my boxer briefs and pull them on stiffy and all.

Maybe my hard-on will help chase away whoever is at the door.

Without looking through the peephole, I swing my door open with a lazy, “Look man, you’ve got the wrong?—”

“Hey.”

Her voice is so soft I would’ve missed it if my eyes weren’t trained on her face.

“Marlee?” I nearly whisper her name, peering down the hall in both directions to make sure nobody sees her standing here. “Are you alright? What’s going?—”

She doesn’t answer at first.

She merely holds up a brown paper bag.

When I shake my head, confused, she worries her lip and gives me a partly shamed but partly hopeful expression and whispers, “I’m so sorry it’s late, but it’s time.”

“It’s time?” I ask, my hand rubbing the back of my neck as I watch her. “Time for…”

Baby.

My eyes grow huge. “Oooh.”

“I’m so sorry, Ledger. I know this isn’t ideal and I hate that I’m even bothering you at this hour when you have a game tomorrow and you need your sleep but that’s just it, you have a game and tomorrow is a busy day, which mean we’ll miss the window if?—”

“It’s no problem, Mar. It’s fine.” I hold the door open for her. “You want to come in?”

“Would you rather I wait out here? I can if you want me to…” Her eyes fall and when I see her brows lift, I look down to see what it is she’s staring at and remember my cock is wide-awake and at the ready.

My cheeks heat and embarrassment floods me. “Fuck. Sorry, I?—"

“No need to be sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I need that. All of it.” She reaches into the bag and holds up the container that I’m very familiar with. “Can you just put it in here when you’re done?”

I’d rather fill you up myself but we haven’t gotten the chance to talk about that yet.

“Sure. Come in.”

Having been through this before we’re both at least familiar with the process and know what to do and how to do it.

“You alright?” I ask, remembering how nervous she was the last time.

Not unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. “Nope. Not even a little bit. Nothing about this is natural. I’m basically fucking with the universe and doing this whole parenthood thing completely out of order but I don’t want my eggs to shrivel up and die and then miss my chance at having a baby so…”

“I hear you. And you’re not alone in this, okay? I’m here. I’ll be right by your side.”

Her shoulders fall and she releases a big breath. “Does that mean you’ll help me again?”

“Whatever you need, Marlee. Promise.” I hold up the plastic cup she handed me a moment ago. “I’ll just be a minute.”

She nods and I excuse myself to the restroom. I turn on the shower light because that’s all the light I really need to do this and then I grab some lube from my toiletry bag. I’m certain it’s old as I haven’t brought a puck bunny back to my room in at least three seasons but does lube go bad?

Nah.

There’s something about the idea—something simultaneously perverse and tender—that never ceases to fuck with my head. The mechanics are simple; the feelings are not. I push that thought aside, focusing on the task, on the reason this has to happen tonight.

Squirting some of the lube onto my hand, I palm my cock and immediately think about the woman on the other side of my door who will be sprawled out on my bed in just a few minutes, her legs spread wide, waiting for me.

Sure, I wish it were under different circumstances but fuck it.

I’ll get to see that beautiful pink pussy again tonight.

I’ll be so fucking close to it, I’ll be able to smell it. Touch it. Damn near taste it.

I brace one hand on the counter, gripping the cool porcelain, and let the other work me towards the inevitable as I slide my fist up and down my shaft coating it in lube.

Fuck, I bet she would take my cock like a dream.

I bet her saying my name while I’m balls deep inside her is the sweetest sound I could ever hear.

Envisioning Marlee laid out for me, glistening wet and wanting, has me stroking myself at a steady pace and I’m certain this won’t take long.

I picture her plump round tits bouncing as she rides me with every pump of my fist, her nipples brushing against my lips, and the squeal of pleasure she’d release when I tug one into my mouth.

Yes!

Fuuuck. Me.

I squeeze harder, thumb circling the head of my cock, and picture her on the other side of the door, anxious and hopeful and, if I’m honest, just as lonely as I am. The ache creeps up faster than usual, need pressed tight between my fingers and the relentless vision of her dark eyes waiting for me.

That’s all it takes for my balls to tighten and my spine to tingle and then I'm left panting alone, the world humming in the silence except for the wet sound of my own breathing and the increasingly desperate search for a wad of toilet paper.

I collect myself, wipe off, and twist the lid on the sample container.

The sight of it—this ungodly clinical trophy—hits me as both absurd and oddly dignified.

I did this.

I filled this plastic motherfucker right to the brim.

This is how you make a family now: in a bathroom at one in the damn morning, with your long-time crush waiting nervously in your bedroom on the other side of the door.

Motherfucking hell.

The moment I open the door the vision in front of me is like a goddamn wet dream all over again. She’s nearly just as I pictured her.

Marlee is in my bed, her legs bent at the knee and covered with my blankets. The first thought that floats through my mind is that I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight with her scent all over my sheets.

Best. Night. Ever.

“I’ve got the goods,” I tell her with a playful wink in hopes a little humor relaxes her.

I know from experience how anxious she can get.

She smiles and releases a deep breath, which I take as a promising reaction, but when I approach the bed, I can see the anxiety she’s trying to hide all over her face.

She’s not a good faker.

She’s nervous.

“Hey.” I place a hand on her blanketed knee. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” She breathes. “I mean it’s just going on one o’clock in the morning and here I am naked from the waist down so some super-hot and ridiculously kind hockey player can shoot his little semen demons into my hell hole.

” She laughs nervously. “I mean what’s not to be okay about that?

Just because I haven’t been able to figure out how to make this happen for myself the way the rest of the world does it?

It’s fine though.” She nods and I know she’s trying to convince herself everything is fine far more than she’s trying to convince me.

Also did she just call me a super-hot hockey player?

“Everything’s fine. Let’s do this. My body is ready.” She blows out a heavy breath. “I was made for this. Let’s feed the super uterus, shall we?”

Well, that’s one way of putting it.

Marlee yanks the blankets down that were covering her legs and pulls her legs free just as I’m positioning myself in front of her, but in doing so, her right knee knocks the plastic cup out of my hand.

“Oh…shit!” I lunge for the small plastic cup but try as I might, my hands are no match for a container full of jizz.

With the kind of inevitability only reserved for romantic comedies and the average person’s worst possible day, we watch in horror as the cup flies from my grasp and bounces off the tip of my finger as I try to catch it and then rolls to the floor, spilling the contents all over the place.

Honestly, it looked like a slow-moving comet with a tail, but can I even pretend to make a joke at a time like this?

No. No I can’t.

“Ledger!” Marlee’s voice is a strangled cry, half horror, half wild. “Shit, shit, shit!” She’s still sprawled on the bed, but now her eyes are wide, her chin quivering, and she’s trying so hard not to cry.

Fuck.

Shit.

Dammit.

Hell.

Oh God…

Fuck.

She’s going to panic in three…two…one…