Secret Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)
Secret Obsession: Chapter 35

“Two truths and a lie,” Knox announces.

I groan.

We’re in the living room of the hockey house. Friday night. We’re supposed to be taking it easy, according to Coach, because we face one of our biggest rivals tomorrow. It’s an away game, so we’ll be going by bus, per usual. This trip, however, is going to be a torturous six hours.

Plus, waking up and reporting to the arena for our pickup time at the crack of dawn is going to suck.

And because it’s so far away, there’s no fan bus. No extra bus, at all. If CPU students want to come, then they have to replace their own way there.

It’s for that reason that Violet, Willow, and Aspen are staying here. They’re going to have a sleepover at Violet’s house, I guess. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t make me a little apprehensive.

Greyson and Steele must feel the same way, because they’re both holding their girls close tonight. Greyson and Violet are on the couch beside Willow and me. Steele has Aspen on his lap on one of the chairs.

Finch is flying solo tonight on another chair, and Tony and his boyfriend of the week are sitting on the floor near Finch. Knox stands in front of the television and fireplace, his eyes bright and a beer in his hand. No girl for him tonight.

In the wake of his suggestion, it seems like everyone has a different response. Violet and Greyson exchange a glance. Steele nods and smirks, pulling Aspen tighter against him. The other guys are shrugging.

Maybe I’m the only one who doesn’t want to play.

“Or we can play truth or dare,” Knox offers.

“That’s better,” Aspen declares. “More exciting.”

“What’s the punishment if you don’t do it?” Greyson asks.

Knox taps his finger against his lips, but I’d bet anything that the fucker already has an idea. In fact, with his scheming, this is probably why he picked the game. Give people impossible dares so they face whatever punishments he can come up with.

It’s sick and twisted and it could be interesting.

Willow’s sitting beside me, her hand on my thigh, but she’s not really here. She hasn’t been here since I caught her talking to Ronan earlier this week and she had a punishment of her own.

Punishment that’s been ongoing, since I haven’t let her come in four days.

I’ve come quite a bit. In fact, she’s got the plug in her ass right now, holding my cum there. As if I just remembered it, I slip my free hand in my pocket and thumb the button. She twitches under my arm.

It takes her a moment to get her expression under control. We’re covered by a blanket, thank fuck, because my dick is hard in an instant. And her hips shift, her body squirming under the siege of vibrations.

“Stop,” she breathes. “Miles.”

I keep it going for another minute, until her eyes are rolling back.

Then I turn it off.

She sags against me.

“Punishment is losing a piece of clothing,” Knox suggests.

Willow shifts. I don’t think she loves that idea—and neither do I.

I lower my lips to her ear. “Guess that means we’re all in, hmm?”

She makes a face at me, then sits up. “I’ll go first,” she volunteers. “Aspen, truth or dare?”

Aspen grins. “Dare.”

“I dare you to show us your sex face.”

Steele’s eyebrows lift, but both of them are fucking smiling. Of course, because they have a bit of exhibitionism in them. Aspen sits up straighter, moving Steele’s hands to her thighs, and does an imitation of how she probably looks when she’s having sex. She bounces on Steele’s lap, and then throws her head back in a form of ecstasy.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Steele murmurs, tipping her head to the side to catch her lips. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

I smirk.

Aspen drags her fingers through her dark hair, and her gaze flickers around before landing on Finch. “Truth or Dare, Hudson?”

Shit, I always forget that’s his first name.

“Truth,” he says.

“Did you fuck Thalia? And if you did, did you enjoy it?”

He blanches. Poor guy. It’s kind of funny, though.

“I didn’t. Um, your uncle scared me away.”

Aspen’s lips turn down. “Uncle Cillian? When did you meet him?”

“This goes outside the scope of truth or dare,” Knox interrupts. He’s still lording over the party in front of the TV. “Finch, you’re up.”

“Um, Knox, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Finch glances from me to Willow, then back to him. My chest tightens automatically.

I fucking know what’s coming.

“Did you have feelings for Willow when you dated her?” Finch asks him.

Willow goes still.

Knox’s expression stays light, but he focuses on Willow instead of Finch. “I liked you just fine, babe. Does that make you feel better?”

“Not really,” she grits out.

He shrugs. “My turn, then. Truth or dare, Willow?”

“Dare.”

He grins.

My brother is fucking up to something. Always.

“I dare you to give me a lap dance for a full song.”

My grip on Willow tightens, keeping her next to me. “Are you kidding me?”

Knox shrugs. “Do you have a problem with that? It’s not like she’s taking off her clothes… which she will have to do if she doesn’t do the dare.”

Willow pats my leg. “It’s fine. I’m over him.”

I bite my tongue. She slips out from under me and rises, shaking out her limbs. Knox returns with a chair from the dining room, and he sits in it with his legs spread like an asshole. He pats his thighs.

“Lay it on me,” he tells her.

She circles him, running her fingers through her hair. It swings right back to where it was, making a curtain around her face. Someone puts a song on their phone, setting it on the coffee table.

“No touching,” she warns him. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

And then she begins.

I forgot, for a moment, that Willow was on the dance team. And while it may have been a few months since she danced with them, she still has that innate talent of moving her body exactly how she wants.

She steps in front of him, facing away, and bends forward. Her gaze is on me—but her ass is in my brother’s face. I grit my teeth as she moves, hooking her legs over his and lowering herself on his lap. She grabs the back of his neck and brings his face toward her cleavage, although she releases him and slips away before he can make contact.

It seems like she’s set on teasing him to death.

My dick twitches, and emotions roar within me.

I’m angry and turned on and so fucking pissed, I can’t see straight. Is it possible for blood to boil?

The song ends, and Willow immediately stops. She straightens and comes back to the couch—but she doesn’t sit next to me. She climbs up on my lap, straddling me. My furious gaze rakes over her eyes, her mouth, her flared nostrils, a second before she cups my face and slams her lips to mine.

She grinds down on me at the same time, feeling how fucking hard I am for her.

I want to kill her for agreeing to it—but then her tongue is in my mouth, and I groan. I grab the back of her head and wind my other arm around her back, keeping her locked against me. We kiss until my head spins and some of my anger recedes. Until I know I won’t commit murder.

Then my grip loosens, and she sits back slightly.

Although she’s not getting out of my lap, that’s for fucking sure.

“Well, that was fun,” Finch murmurs. “Willow, I think it’s your turn.”

“Miles, truth or dare.”

I sense that she wants me to pick a dare. Or maybe she wants a truth from me, I don’t know. Either way. “Dare.”

“I dare you to give your brother a lap dance for a full song.”

The room erupts into laughter.

I sit up straighter, nose to nose with her. “You’d like that, hmm?”

“No, but I think it would be funny,” she murmurs.

I shift her back on my lap and tear off my shirt. “Nice try.”

Our friends boo, but I wave them off. “There’s no fucking way. Greyson, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

I lift my chin and fight my smirk. “Do you regret making Violet give Steele a blow job?”

Willow chokes, but it’s Aspen who has the weirdest reaction. She looks from Violet to Greyson to Steele, and she shoves herself off her boyfriend’s lap. Is she going to hit him? I could use some violence right about now—a different sort of outlet to the lingering fury under my skin.

But instead, she starts laughing.

Full, huge, belly laughs.

We stare at Aspen for a moment, and Steele runs his hand over his face.

“Fuck you, Whiteshaw,” Greyson murmurs. His grip on Violet tightens. “No, I don’t regret it. Because it made me realize that I couldn’t handle it if anyone else wanted to have her. Before that, I was just…” He shrugs and meets her eyes. “I love you, Vi.”

“I know.” She kisses him.

It’s sweet.

But Aspen is on the floor, still laughing hard enough that tears are tracking down her cheeks.

“Jesus, woman,” Steele mutters. He grabs her up and puts her back on his lap. “You aren’t mad that I didn’t tell you?”

She lifts one shoulder, her giggles trailing off. “I mean… no, I’m pretty pissed you didn’t tell me. But as far as it actually happening? I can only imagine how feral Greyson was after.” She pats Steele’s cheek. “You were the pawn in that scenario, sweetheart.”

We lapse into silence. I mean, she’s got a point.

“Moving on,” Greyson says after a minute. He opens his mouth to continue, but a huge crash outside stops him short.

I crane around, trying to see out the front windows. A second later, there’s a squealing of tires.

We’re up in an instant. I barely set Willow on her feet before me, Knox, Greyson, and Steele are rushing out the front door. Barefoot, bare-chested, in the middle of winter—doesn’t fucking matter.

My car is destroyed.

Hit-and-run, judging from the lack of a second vehicle. It took a direct hit to the front, which is crunched inward so far, it barely resembles a car. The back is crunched in, too, having met the back of Greyson’s truck. He must have a hitch attached or some shit, because his doesn’t appear damaged in the slightest.

Mine’s just an unfortunate pancake.

Willow appears at my side, her hand slipping into mine. “Holy shit.”

I sigh. But then her grip tightens, and she points down the street.

“Are they…?”

A huge truck with a brush guard on the front is idling in the middle of the street. Its headlights are off, but it doesn’t hide the fact that it’s running. Steam comes out of the exhaust, visible in the cold night air.

Our collective attention swings to it.

The headlights come on, so bright they’re fucking blinding, and the truck squeals in reverse. Straight down the street to the intersection, where its tail end swings to the left. It maneuvers a perfect turn and shoots off into the night.

“What the fuck was that?” Greyson demands.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

I don’t have any idea.

“Game’s over,” I say, sighing. “We’re going to get some sleep. Deal with this shit in the morning.”

Willow follows me upstairs. She doesn’t say anything until we’re in the room, and she automatically strips off the rest of her clothes. I want to fucking flog her for giving my brother a lap dance. But she’s not wearing a bra… or panties. What would she have taken off that would make that situation any better?

Still.

I groan when she faces away from me and bends over, revealing the base of the plug sticking out from between her ass cheeks. She pulls at the laces of her shoes quickly, removing them, then straightens up and glances back at me.

The remote is in my hand before I really register it.

My cock is rock-hard.

I shed my sweatpants, sit on the end of the bed, and motion for her to come closer. She does, her hair swinging around and brushing the tops of her shoulders. Her tits are perky, her pink nipples staring at me. Before I bend her over my knee, I lean forward and suck one into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” she whimpers.

I catch her hips and drag her closer, flicking her nipple with my tongue and sucking it between my teeth. I pay it special attention, then switch to her other one. Her back arches, pushing her breast into my face. I maul the other, wet with my spit, in my hand. Kneading and squeezing it, until she’s trembling against me.

Then I pull her down across my legs, pinning her facedown.

She lets out a shocked noise.

“Hold my leg. And don’t let go.” I wait until she does, then turn on the plug.

She gasps.

I touch her ass cheek lightly, enjoying the way she trembles. The buzz of the plug is louder now. So when I lift my hand and bring it down on her cheek, she almost jumps out of her skin.

“Oooh, why does that feel good?” she cries.

I smile. She’s leaking on my thigh. I push a finger into her cunt. It catches her off guard, and she squirms at the new sensation. I withdraw and spank her again. The other cheek. Hard enough to leave a red imprint in its wake.

My hand is immediately there again, soothing the spot. Then finger-fucking her. All while I use my other arm to keep her down, splayed out.

“Why am I doing this to you?” I ask her, keeping my voice calm.

“B-because I gave Knox—”

SMACK.

She yelps.

I thrust two fingers inside her. She’s getting wetter, the devious girl.

“You know you did wrong,” I murmur. “And you know not to say his name.”

“I know,” she pants. “Would you rather I bare my tits for everyone—”

SMACK.

Her moan is louder. Lust and pain in a heady combination.

“I’d rather you let me decide,” I say. “Three more. And I want you to count with me.”

I aim lower this time. Her upper thigh.

She’s not expecting it, and her breath is shaky when she whispers, “One.”

“That’s my girl,” I reply.

I turn up the plug, and she squirms again.

“Stay still now.”

Again.

“Two,” she moans.

Again.

“Three.”

I pull her up and plant her on the bed. She slides forward, her chest hitting the mattress as I drag her legs back and get her knees under her. When I thrust into her hot cunt, her muscles grip at me.

But it’s the vibration of the plug that I need to grit my teeth against.

I’m not going to last long like this.

“Do you want to come?” I ask her.

She makes an indecipherable noise.

“Willow.” I stroke her bare back, running my fingers along the bumps of her spine. “Do you want to come, wild girl?”

“Yes,” she practically sobs. Her hands are fisting in the blanket, her body shuddering. “Please make me come, Miles.”

“I will, sweet girl,” I murmur.

I draw out and push back in, taking another moment to control myself. Every time I bury my cock to the hilt inside her, my groin meeting her ass, her tender skin seems to shiver. I reach around her and brush her clit. I fuck her slowly and work her up while trying not to explode myself, but it’s damn hard.

She’s so fucking alluring, and needy, and gorgeous.

“Come for me.” It’s a command that breaks her.

When she unravels, she clenches at me and drags me over the edge with her. I thrust quickly, twice more, and my balls tighten. Then empty. And fuck if it doesn’t feel perfect to climax at the same time as her.

I shut off the plug and remove it. Then my cock. I drop to my knees and hold her thighs, keeping her lifted on her knees, and take in her leaking pussy. My cum is already seeping out, strings of it dropping to the blanket.

On a whim, I thrust my fingers inside her. Searching… Ah.

“Your IUD strings are right here,” I tell her. “I could pull them out, get you pregnant…”

“No.” Her voice snaps through, crystal clear.

I raise my eyebrow. “No?”

She’s suddenly rolling away from me, drawing her legs together. She keeps going right off the other side of the bed, and she hops up. “No. Do you want to hurt me? Is that it? It’s painful enough in a doctor’s office. And there’s a myriad of things that could be off with it. I don’t know if it’s buried itself in my uterus wall—”

“Okay.” I raise my hands in surrender. “I won’t.”

“And I don’t want babies,” she adds. “Ever.”

“Okay,” I reply.

Her expression is… distrustful. I don’t blame her. How many relationships fall apart on the baby aspect?

“I don’t need a screaming child,” I tell her. “I don’t even need a well-behaved child. I just need you.”

She stalls out. Her hands plant on her hips, and her head tilts. “What?”

I shrug. “I don’t give a shit about babies. I want you. I need you. Haven’t I said that enough? That it’s you and me, forever? If you don’t want to get pregnant, that’s fine. If the IUD hurts, you should get it out. And because it freaks you out that much, I’ll take responsibility for it and get snipped.”

I mean, that doesn’t sound like the most pleasant thing on earth, but for her?

Anything.

“Especially if it means we can have fear-free, raw sex,” I add.

She huffs. And a second later, a smile cracks her expression. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I pick a t-shirt and toss it at her, then replace my sweatpants.

She trails me to the bathroom. It’s not even that fucking weird to pee in front of her, and her in front of me. We take turns brushing our teeth, and she braids her hair back and ties it off with a mini elastic. My shirt conceals her naked pussy, which is probably for the best. Tony and his boyfriend almost crash into us as we’re coming out of the bathroom.

I wink at him and herd her to safety.

She climbs into bed and watches me pull clothes for her for tomorrow from her drawer—although really, her drawer has expanded into two, and she also has prime real estate in my closet—because our long fucking drive requires us to be up at an ungodly hour.

“What am I wearing?”

“My jersey for luck,” I tell her. “Obviously.”

She snickers, but it’s tinged with exhaustion. “I’ll take care of the report with the police. Your car.”

Clothes done, I crawl into bed behind her. She faces me, still for a moment, then tugs at my sweatpants.

I grin. “You want more?”

Her lower lip sticks out. “Miles.”

“I got you, wild girl.” I kick them off and grip her leg, hitching it up over my hip. She makes no objection, no sound, when I slide back into her. She’s still wet and tight, and my cock is a fucking trooper.

But she just snuggles into me, her head on my chest, and falls still.

And that’s how we sleep.