Page 30

alex

“Fuck me harder so she’ll eat me out more,” the girl underneath me cried out as I rolled my head back, closing my eyes and staring at the ceiling.

“Fuck,” the two brunettes screamed.

I had won my first Stanley Cup with the Chicago Ravens, and some of my new teammates had gifted me the company of two brunettes for the evening after the parade.

I slapped one of the brunettes on the ass—it was fine, nice and perky—but I was exhausted.

I needed something quick, and I was getting bored of this.

The guys had invited me to one of their infamous parties over the weekend, but I had declined.

So they decided to bring the party to me and sent the girls over.

One girl straddled the other’s face, her knees planted on either side of the other woman’s head, hips rolling as she sought out pleasure.

I was behind her, thrusting into her, my hands gripping her waist as I watched the other girl’s tongue work.

Her back arched, and her fingers dug into the sheets, but after a while, the rhythmic moans and the rise and fall of their bodies lost their allure.

The show that had been captivating, started to feel repetitive, and I found my attention drifting.

I had other preferences nowadays, and the parties I’d attended usually took the edge off of it.

I thrust a few more times before coming into the condom and then pulled out. Both girls whined as the one whose pussy was getting eaten collapsed on the other’s face.

“You guys can finish up if you need to, then the door is open.” I turned and headed to the shower in my brand-new apartment that a designer had furnished for me in a style that was nothing like mine.

As I closed the door, the bleakness of the bathroom consumed me. I rushed to the toilet, dropping to my knees and hurling everything in my stomach into the bowl. I was disgusted with who I’d become over the last couple of years. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t who I was meant to be.

I jumped into the shower and let the water wash everything away. Closing my eyes, I told myself it was the alcohol making my stomach churn and not the intense guilt I felt for... a ghost.

I kept my eyes shut as the water pounded my back.

Please don’t think about her, I begged myself.

But just like every other time I fucked someone, all I thought about was her face as I walked out the door of the hospital room.

Fuck, it had been four years since I’d even spoken her name, refusing to because somehow, if I said it aloud, then it was all true and not some fever dream that I’d convinced myself it was.

I’d drive myself nuts thinking about the possibility of another man raising Damien.

I wondered if she had other kids, if she was able to skate again.

Fuck, I wondered if she could even walk or if she was still in the States.

Who knows, maybe she went back to Russia with her mother.

But I was halfway across the country now after moving from Orange County to Chicago this year, with a team that had won the Stanley Cup, all thanks to the final assist I gave.

I lived in a high-rise apartment with the majority of the team and actually liked my colleagues.

Even Dirks got signed to the Ravens, so it felt like I had a friend here.

Voices came from the bedroom before the door opened and shut behind the two girls, and I finally turned off the water and got out.

I grabbed a towel and walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom.

A sleek gray bed was the focal point, modern nightstands flanking it, with a single black dresser in the corner.

A TV was across from the bed, and that was it.

It was so unlike how I lived in OC, but when I was asked for help designing it, I told the designer I wanted something different. I needed a change.

My phone rang on the nightstand, and I walked over to it. Our new captain’s name, Ledger Cole, flashed on the screen.

I picked it up. “It’s almost midnight. The fuck you calling me for?” I asked, my tone joking.

Ledger was in his late twenties, one of the older guys on the team, but he earned every second of his role as captain, taking us to the playoffs this year.

“Yeah. As if you’re sleeping the night after the parade. How many were there tonight?”

I laughed. Although Cole never participated in any of the parties the rest of the team went to, we both had an affinity for nice asses and some perky tits. “Only two.”

“Only two,” he repeated in jest. “Anyway, calling to remind you to stop drinking and go the fuck to bed. We have that huge charity event tomorrow, and it’s in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, with Kids Camp.”

It was the one stop on the press tour I was actually looking forward to.

The Ravens were sponsoring a few kids this summer to go to sports camp, which included, but wasn’t restricted to, hockey.

It was an organization we started for kids who had working parents and were unable to afford childcare during the summer season.

It helped the kids get out, enjoy the one season when it was actually warm in the city, and have fun.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there with my gym shoes on.”

“Looking forward to it, man. See you in the morning.”

Ledger hung up, and I flipped my phone back onto the nightstand, then I tore the sheets off the bed and replaced them.

I wanted no reminder of what happened tonight, which was stupid.

I was single. I liked fucking, but the guilt crept in like I was doing something wrong.

Every time this happened, I was cheating on my ghost again.

With a fresh set of sheets, I closed my eyes, thinking about our organization and Kids Camp tomorrow. Hell, let’s be honest. I thought about anything to get my mind off her.