Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Logan

We go back to my place after dinner. The anticipation of getting Annie alone and naked is killing me. Although today was fun, just being with her. I walk into my building with a satisfied, contented feeling that's not from the double patty burger I just ate.

I had a minor melt down inside when she took one of my fries.

Because… I didn't mind . I'd give her all my fries. Gladly. And, with the force of a Zdeno Chara slapshot, I realized…she's the one.

Honestly? I never thought I'd find "the one." I never thought such a thing existed. For me, anyway.

Teemu greets us excitedly and I clip on his leash to take him outside. "Make yourself at home," I tell Annie. "Help yourself to a drink if you want."

This gives me a few minutes alone to deal with the noise inside my head that's like traffic on 42 nd Street with police cars and fire trucks and horns honking. I try to calm the chaos and clear my brain in the elevator.

Realizing I'm falling in love with Annie in that moment scared the shit out of me. Why? Why does that scare me?

I don't have to dig very deep to know. It's because chances are damn fucking good she's not going to love me back.

That's always been my fear. It's why I've never had a real long-term relationship…my feeling that I don't deserve to be loved. That I have to be what they want me to be to deserve love.

But I'm myself with Annie. I've always been just myself. And…she's here. She asked me to come see her, to talk. She told me she wants to keep seeing me.

Holy shit, it's exploding my brain.

I take Teemu over to the park and make a loop. He does his business and I dispose of it and then stroll home, letting him sniff at shrubs and fire hydrants.

It's fine. Everything's fine. I got this.

Back in my apartment I find Annie on the couch, gazing out the window at the night view, a glass of wine in her hand.

I grab myself a beer and join her. "Want to watch a movie?" I pick up the remote for the TV.

"Mmm. I don't know." She turns to me with a smile.

Clearly, she wants something .

Heh.

"You know what I'd really like?" She lays a hand on my forearm.

I lean closer. "I bet I do." And I'm so ready.

She laughs softly. "I bet you don't. I'd really like a bath."

I blink. "Uh. What? A bath?"

"Yeah." She bites her lower lip and peers up at me through her eyelashes in a seductive look. "Ivan doesn't have a bathtub. I haven't had a bath in months."

"Hopefully you've showered."

"Yes, I've showered." She pokes my chest. "I'd just like to have a nice, long, hot…bath."

I cough. "You can totally have a bath." I pause. "Do you want to be alone?"

Her mouth curves enticingly. "I don't mind some company."

All righty then! I jump to my feet. "Let's go."

We zip into the bathroom off my bedroom. The bathtub and showers (there are two showerheads) are in a glassed-off wet room which I thought was cool when I moved in. I step into it and start the water running into the tub.

I turn to see Annie pulling her sweater over her head. Her sheer lace bra cups her tits sweetly, and I move toward her to help with her jeans. Together we get them off her and I discard my own jeans and sweater and boxer briefs. I let her unfasten her bra and step out of her panties as steam fills the space.

"I don't have baths very often, but I think I have…" I open a cabinet and peer inside. "Yeah." I hold up a bottle of bubble bath.

"Nice."

I pour some under the faucet, releasing the scent of flowers into the warm air. "You can get in. I'll be right back."

I go retrieve the drinks we abandoned, along with a few condoms and some lube. Just in case.

When I come back, she's reclining in the water, bubbles gathered around her. I hand her the glass of wine.

"Thank you."

My dick is huge and hard and I'm about to blow a load, but I need to slow things down. Even if she wants sex, she deserves to enjoy her bath before I jump her.

I climb into the tub and sit with my back against one end. I reach for her and glide her through the water so her back is to my front and she's sitting between my legs. I turn off the tap and I guide her to gently recline against my chest, the hot water lapping and bubbles mounding around us.

"Am I just supposed to ignore that?" she says, nodding at my erection.

"Yes, please. For now."

"Mmmmkay. This is so nice." She sips her wine and relaxes against me.

I slide my arms around her waist and hold her. "Your hair's getting wet."

"Yeah. That's okay." She rubs a foot along my calf. "There's lots of room for both of us."

"It's not a problem when one of us is miniature."

"Hey. You know dynamite comes in small packages."

I kiss her shoulder. "Yeah. I do know that."

When she finishes her wine, I take the glass and set it on the small stool next to the tub with my empty beer. Then I lay my hands on her shoulders and massage her muscles.

She lets out a low moan. "Oh, God. That's nice."

I keep going, digging my thumbs into tight spots. caressing her bare, wet back and her shoulders, slow and sensuous. I push her wet hair forward over her shoulder, then lean down to kiss her nape. I slide my lips along and kiss and suck on the back of her neck, her shoulders.

"I love touching you. Your skin is so smooth." I sit up straighter and find her tits with both soapy hands. "Wet tits…so slippery…hard little nipples." I squeeze and shape soft flesh and pinch her nipples, kissing her shoulder, drinking in her soft gasps and sighs. I slide a hand down her abdomen to between her legs. She parts them and gives me access and I glide my fingers through her pussy lips, down low all the way to her puckered rear opening and rub there. "Have you ever been fucked back here?" I murmur.

"Noooo."

"Mmmm. Maybe we can try it sometime."

"Y-yes. Oh…"

I return to her clit and stroke over it. She shudders in my arms. My other hand rises to her throat and clasps her there, carefully, holding her in place as I play with her clit, making her gasp and shake.

I think the water's getting hotter. Or maybe that's just us. I lift her and turn her so she's facing me, managing to do it without drowning us or getting splashed in the face. She smiles and we drift together, her legs apart and on either side of my hips, my throbbing cock between us. With my hands on her ass, I pull her closer still and kiss her mouth. I want to consume her. I bite so gently on her lips, suck her tongue, swallow her taste.

"This is so decadent." She sighs against my lips.

We make out for a while in the water, endless, drugging kisses and wet touches. Then she wraps one hand around my dick and strokes. "I want to suck you."

"Aw yeah." I run a hand around the back of her head. "Wanna see that pretty mouth on my cock."

I slosh out of the water and plant my ass on the edge of the tub, and she moves between my thighs, on her knees. I gather her hair in a messy tail and hold it at the back of her head as she grips my cock. "Lick the tip."

Her tongue slides over the swollen head. Sensation sizzles up my spine.

"Aw yeah…suck on the head…" My fingers tighten on her hair as she opens wider and her lips slide lower. Her tongue swirls and she sucks gently. "Oh yeah. So good. Take more."

She hums and looks up at me as I fill her mouth.

I touch her cheek. "I love looking at your beautiful face when you suck on my cock. Oh yeah, take it all."

She gives a tiny shake of her head.

"I know." I fix the ponytail in my hand. "I know. It's okay." Her mouth is small. I can feel the back of her throat. Heat pulses in my balls.

"So hot. Your mouth is like fire on my dick. Suck me, baby."

She sucks greedily, using her tongue, her lips and even the very edges of her teeth to gently scrape me.

"Oh fuuuuck…yeah." I let out a long groan. "I'm fucking your mouth, babe." In and out with short strokes, I fuck her mouth, so carefully, gritting my teeth, my abs and my ass clenched with restraint. "Suck me like that, and you're gonna make me come, huh? Yeah?"

"Mmmm."

"Can I come in your mouth, Annie?" I twist her hair around my hand. "Tell me now."

She flicks her gaze up to me, nods, and keeps sucking and I groan again. Pleasure escalates. I gulp for air, my thighs quaking. "That's it. Take it…swallow it all down. Christ ."

It's a gift. A pure, generous, gratifying gift.

White hot electricity bolts through me, almost painfully, up my spine, through my chest, and my cock surges and gushes into the hot, softness of her mouth.

She sits back on her heels, blinking up at me, her eyes damp, and her lips wet with my come. Water and bubbles ripple around her waist. I cup her face with one hand and rub my thumb over her slick bottom lip. "God. Look at you…Jesus. Did you like that?"

"I loved it."

I slide back down into the water, wrapping my arms around her tight enough to squeeze the breath out of her.

* * *

"Hey, Hellsy."

Hellsy tosses a bottle into the recycling bin in the players lounge and turns to me. "Hey, Loco. What's up?"

This is worse than the first time I ever asked out a girl. "Could we go, uh, grab a coffee or something, sometime. Uh." I adjust my ball cap on my head. "I have something I could use some advice on."

He regards me thoughtfully for a couple of beats then says, "Yeah. Of course. Any time."

"Whenever works for you."

"How about right now?"

We've finished practice, meetings, video review, and lunch. "Sure. Sounds good."

"Let's head over to Betty's?"

"Works for me."

"Do you have a car here?"

"Yeah." I drove my own car here, hoping this might work out. "I can drive you home after."

"Great."

We walk over to the diner, talking about bullshit stuff. Once we're seated in a booth, me with a coffee and Hellsy with his caffeine fix in the form of a Coke, he says, "So. What's up?"

I stir milk into my coffee and sigh. "It's about my dad."

He nods.

"He called me last night after the game and was on my ass about Crossley avoiding my hit in the third." I make a face and set down my spoon. "Apparently I didn't try hard enough."

Josh shakes his head.

"He's been like that my whole life. I could score a hat trick and he'd be pissed because I didn't chuck knucles when the other team got too close to our goalie."

Hellsy purses his lips. "That's tough."

"It's really getting to me because I've been trying to change my style of play. I'm a physical player, but I've been trying to play smarter."

"I've noticed you've been bringing it."

"Well. Thanks. I got some breaks, too. I mean, not that I wanted that to happen to Millsy and J-Bo, getting benched that game, but it gave me a chance to prove myself and Coach noticed. And…even the fucking skating lessons." I smile ruefully and rub my chin. "I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about that."

"You weren't the only one."

"Yeah. Coach lectured me about it, told me to improve my attitude, so I went along with it even though I was still skeptical. But shit, it's making a difference in my skating."

He smiles. "Yeah."

"I didn't want to be the guy who lays a hard hit on someone and then I'm out of position and we lose possession. Sure, I finished the check, but that doesn't help."

"Not always. There's a time for it, but yeah, I know what you mean."

"I'm trying to be more strategic about using my body to force the puck away from other players. Smarter body checking."

Hellsy nods. "Yeah."

"But every time I talk to my old man, he tells me I'm playing like a pussy." I exhale sharply. "I tell myself I don't care what he thinks. And I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but it does and I don't know what to do about it." I look up at him. "I guess that's where I need advice. I don't mean from you!" I add hastily. "I just wanted to talk to…someone…and get ideas of…"

"You've talked to Dr. Fiorino, yeah?" She's a sports psychologist who works with the team sometimes.

"Long time ago, but yeah."

"You could talk to her again."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

He grins. "She's a doctor. If you were having trouble with your shoulder, you'd go to a doctor, right?"

"Right."

"It's the same."

I get that it should be. "But seriously, I don't think I need a doctor. I really want to know what to say to my dad. Annie—" I stop dead. Oh shit.

He lifts his brows. "You talked to her about it?"

Shit.

"Uh. Yeah. A bit. She's the one who suggested talking to you, or Millsy or Morrie. She asked if I'd talked to my dad about it. And I have…but it's usually when I'm pissed off and I've lost my cool and it's ugly."

"Ugh."

"Yeah. I almost lost it last night when he called, but I don't want to do that anymore."

"He's definitely an old-time player. It was interesting hearing him talking to the other guys on the trip."

"Yeah, he doesn't like the way that hockey's changing. But he needs to deal with it."

"That's a him problem."

"Right."

"I think it's reasonable for you to tell your dad you're an adult and it's your life and he needs to let go."

"Yeah." I nod like a bobble head. "That's what I want to say."

We talk a while longer with him giving me some ideas of how to phrase things.

"And now when do I do this?" I ask, rubbing my jaw.

"Bring them out for a visit. Invite them to a game."

"Hmmm. That's a good idea."

On the drive home, I process it. I don't want to talk to the doc about it.

But why? I know other guys have gotten help that way.

Maybe because…that would make Dad even more sure that I'm a gutless wuss. Real men don't talk about their feelings, especially to a shrink. According to him, anyway. Real men don't ask for help. Asking for help is a sign of weakness. Real men don't learn to skate from figure skaters.

Oh Jesus.

I almost have to pull over at the intense wave of queasiness rising up my esophagus.

I want to be a better player. And yet I resisted the help that could get me there—skating help. I'm still resisting the help that could get me there—talking to someone.

And then words from the teambuilding retreat float through my head. We don't have to handle shit alone. Asking for help isn't weak—it's strong. It shows confidence. Opening up and talking about it is the biggest, bravest step you can take.

If I really want to be better—and not just a better hockey player, but a better man—I need to rethink all those ideas Dad pounded into me.