Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Jami Davenport (classic novels to read .txt) 📕

to match his. His strokes built with my encouragement until he was pounding into me with such force my body slid several inches up the wall with each stroke.

His cock jerked inside me as he started to come, and my body responded by following him into the ultimate bliss. The pleasure was so intense I was certain I’d die, because no one would be able to survive the violent, erotic waves of ecstasy assaulting my body.

I was vaguely aware of Paxton calling my name and biting my shoulder as he buried his cock inside me one last time and held it there.

His labored breathing rasped in my ears, and our sweat mingled with the water. I don’t know how Pax managed to still have the strength to hold me against that wall when I was boneless and incapable of any kind of lucid thoughts or movements.

Eventually, I slid down his body and stood on my own. He stared down at me with eyes still full of hunger.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he said, gulping in oxygen.

“I can’t get enough of you either. You are the best I’ve ever had. No one has made me feel like this.”

“Me neither.”

“You get inside me like no one ever has.”

“Literally.” We both chuckled over the joke.

We clung to each other and were quiet, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing. Finally, I drew back. “We need to get back to our rooms. You have a game tomorrow night, and you’ll need your sleep.”

Guilt clouded his expression for a moment, reminding me of what the Sockeyes had told him. All hockey, all the time.

As if he was reading my mind, Paxton withdrew from me and began drying off with the towels we’d had the foresight to grab from the bin outside. He handed me one, and just like that, our magical moment was over.

Something shifted. Something so subtle I might’ve missed it had I not been hyperaware of a change in the atmosphere around us.

With growing unease, I dried off and dressed. We didn’t say another word to each other as we walked to the elevators. Once on our floor in front of my door, Paxton gave me a deep kiss, yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling he was holding something back.

“Good night, Omi.”

“Good night, Pax.”

I watched him walk down the long hallway to the room he shared with Patrick and wondered if we’d survive the next few months.

30

The Spiral

Paxton

Sometimes I swore I was taking one step forward and two steps back, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That kind of negative thinking would get me nowhere.

The Sockeyes’ advice swirled around in my head, leaving me confused and conflicted.

Everything I’d ever wanted was right at my fingertips, yet I could feel it slipping away, out of reach. I wouldn’t let that happen.

The next week was Thanksgiving, but we had away games on Friday and Saturday at Dartmouth. Naomi flew to Vegas on Wednesday to be with her family and would miss the weekend’s games. I was at a loss without her, which was frightening in itself. She’d become a huge part of my life in a very short time, and that was a dangerous place to be, especially for someone who was on the verge of major life changes that didn’t necessarily include her.

Patrick and I continued our strained relationship, neither one of us taking the initiative to finally have it out. I think deep down we both feared we were losing each other, and there was nothing we could do about it. We were mere months from going our separate ways for the first time in our lives. I was scared shitless and exhilarated at the same time. No longer would Patrick’s shadow dominate my life. I’d make my own way. Yet we’d been each other’s rock for so long, I didn’t know how I’d find my way through a future without him playing a crucial part in it.

I got up early and worked out on Thanksgiving. Patrick stayed in bed with a redhead he’d picked up last night at the Biscuit.

I dreaded dinner with my dad. Once our mother had died, Thanksgiving with him had been an ordeal to be suffered and not a pleasant family time to be savored. Mom had been the glue who’d held us together. She’d managed Dad in a way no one else ever could, keeping him focused and positive. That’d all fallen apart once she’d died. He’d become someone else. He’d probably always been the selfish, obnoxious person he was now, but she’d hidden his true self from us.

I called Naomi as I walked home from the gym. Clouds rolled in and threatened either rain or snow. If it stayed this cold, we’d most likely get snow. I shuddered at the thought I might be snowed in tonight with Dad and Patrick. Naomi answered on the first ring.

“Hey, babe.” I forced my tone to be upbeat. “Were you sitting right by the phone?”

“I was starting a text to you. I’m bored.”

I laughed. The sound of her voice cheered me up. “What’s going on?”

“The housekeeper is making dinner. My dad’s twentysomething girlfriend is here, and she’s a bitch, to be blunt. She’s been picking at my hair, my wardrobe, my makeup. You name it. And Dad’s backing her up, telling me I should dress like the daughter of an NHL legend even if I can’t skate worth shit.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh.”

“Yeah, is your dad there yet?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been avoiding the apartment since this a.m. I’m heading back there now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for you, too.” I stopped in front of my apartment. “I’m here now. I should go in and face the fun. I’ll call you later tonight.”

“Let’s video chat.”

I perked up at the thought. “As in a little phone sex?”

“Oh, yeah.”

I was grinning now. “Thank you for giving me something to look forward to.”

“Thank you. And Pax?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you.” The longing in her voice dispelled all my anxieties of