8. Noah

8 /

noah

I can’t look Anthony in the eyes. It’s making reading his attacks on the rink a little difficult this morning.

For lots of reasons. Mostly, it’s the fact I can still taste his sister on my lips. But there’s also that shit he said this summer.

You know my sister would do anything to be your girlfriend, right? She’s talking about dropping her Harbor State scholarship and going to Tiff. I’m not sure if it’s the fact you’ve been single all summer or what, but maybe be careful what you say to her. I don’t want her fucking up her life because of some stupid crush.

It’s that stupid crush part that hurt. As if her liking me is somehow ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong; I admire Anthony for protecting his sister. Sure, he and I always gave Frankie shit growing up, but that’s because she’s younger and tattled on us all the time. But both of us would have fought off a bear to keep her safe. And then she started high school, guys started paying attention, and we both got protective. Anthony because that’s what brothers do. Me, well . . . because I was a petty, jealous fuck who didn’t like the idea of her replacing me with anyone else.

Now the thought of any other man having her—touching her, kissing her, holding her damn hand—is off the table. The idea of it makes my blood boil.

But how can I keep her to myself when I don’t think I deserve her in the first place? And her brother definitely doesn’t think I do.

The puck zings by me, nailing the post and flying to the back of the net.

“Shit,” I mutter.

Anthony slides to a stop at my side, grabbing the water bottle from the top of the goal.

“What’s your deal? Your head isn’t in this. That’s an easy stop for you, usually. You block that shit with your eyes closed.” He tips his head back and squeezes water in his mouth, blinking away sweat as he stares up at the arena lights.

I pull my mask back and rest it on top of my head, taking the bottle from him when he’s done.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just tired.” I spray water in my mouth and swish it around before swallowing, careful not to let my gaze wander to the stands where Frankie has been sitting for the last hour.

She didn’t ride with me. We both decided it was better if she hitched a ride with her brother to avoid explaining why she wanted to come with me instead.

Come with me. I mean, that’s the reason. It’s also why I’m so fucking tired.

When he asked why she left her car here last night, she said Mazy picked her up to hang out. I don’t know Mazy that well, but Frankie seemed to think she’d back up her alibi if Anthony went digging. I feel like the house of cards is getting a little tall, and one more lie might send it crashing down.

Those worries seem miniscule, however, when my eyes land on her. She’s bundled in sweatpants and a fleece jacket, her hair in braids under the white knit hat with the gold fluffy ball on top. Our eyes meet whenever Anthony’s back is turned, like we’re in perfect sync. I’m not sure how she’s going to handle wearing her costume today unless she plans to keep those sweatpants on. Those tights were unsalvageable.

“Hey, my sister says some kid is coming to camp today, like for free or some shit? You know about that?” Anthony pushes off from the goal, shifting his blades as he slowly backs away, working the puck as he skates.

More cards to add to the house. Conner’s dad saw me and my helper last night. Hopefully, the details don’t come up.

“Yeah, we had a visitor yesterday. The family’s having a real hard time, and the kid eats, sleeps, and breathes hockey. He’s a small dude, so just getting to hang with the class will make him feel special.”

Anthony nods, but his gaze sticks to me for a few extra seconds, his brow drawn in like he’s picking apart my answer in his head.

“You’re really in the Christmas spirit, huh? Santa suit getting to you?” He’s teasing, but there’s something about his tone that feels as though he’s asking a whole different question. Is my sister getting to you? Maybe I’m just paranoid.

“I guess so. You know me, sucker for hockey fans.”

Anthony points at me as he huffs out a laugh, finally turning and skating away. I glance at Frankie, and our gazes connect for a beat. She’s chewing at her nails. Mentally, so am I. This is stupid. I should be able to smile at her without worrying about my best friend cutting my legs out on the ice.

For the next thirty minutes, I take shots from Anthony and one of the AHL guys who’s in town, and eventually, Frankie leaves to go set up the workshop and meet up with Norris. I skirt out of the locker room just as the first group of campers arrives at the arena. I recognize the Graham’s van in the parking, and while I don’t think Conner would recognize me out of the Santa suit, I don’t want to take any chances. After scanning all directions, I sprint to my Bronco, then race to the other end of the parking lot, by the outdoor rink. I change inside my vehicle, and as I’m pulling the velvet pants up under the confines of the steering wheel, Frankie flattens her palms against my window, then cups her eyes to stare inside.

“Oh, shit!” My upper body flails over the console.

Frankie opens my door, her uncontrollable laughter making her eyes water. She leans into the open cab, hugging my left bicep and resting her forehead on my shoulder while I shake my head and pretend to be mad at her.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

I sit up but keep her close, chuckling.

“It’s fine. I think I’m just on edge. Conner’s here for camp, and I feel like your brother knows everything. As in . . . everything.”

“Aww, I’m so glad Conner came! He’s going to have so much fun. And who cares what my brother knows or doesn’t know? My life is none of his business.”

My mouth forms a tight smile, and Frankie nudges my chin to face her before pressing her lips on mine. Her forehead rests on mine, and she exhales a soft hum.

“You know he would be pissed if he found out. And I get it. He thinks you can do better.” I bring my thumb up to her chin, my gaze drifting down the slight space between our bodies. I wish we were alone so I could pull her into the cab and onto my lap.

“What do you think?” she utters after a few long, quiet seconds.

I draw in a long, slow breath and let out an equally long exhale.

“I know you can,” I admit. “I meant what I said about not being boyfriend material.”

I don’t know how to be in a real relationship. I know how to play hockey, be the life of the party, sell the brand of Tiff U Hockey, and make women feel beautiful for the night. But a girlfriend? That’s always seemed too serious. But what the hell. Even our team captain, Cutter, has a girlfriend, and he’s the least serious dude I know.

Frankie hums, her palm tracing the curve of my shoulder.

“Boyfriends are so high school, Noah. And I think we both know I’m not in high school anymore.”

Her hand trails down my chest to my stomach, her fingertips teasing the waistband of my compression pants. The red trousers are still low on my hips, and this simple touch has me hard as fuck. If her hand drops any lower, I’m pulling her into this seat and closing the door so I can do dirty things to her.

“You are definitely all grown up, Frankie Bardot,” I breathe out. I shift my body to stave her off, but her hand remains glued to the skin just below my belly button. I let out a nervous chuckle, fighting the urge to shift my cock so it has more room.

“How am I going to get off the naughty list if you keep tempting me like this?”

Her hand slips into my pants, and I suck in a sharp breath as she scans the area around me. I’m trying to be real with her right now. She’s different, and I want her to know that. I don’t want to screw any of this up, but fucking hell if I don’t want to come in her mouth now.

“It’s pretty quiet out there,” she says, her eyes hazed as her gaze passes mine, then drops to my lap, where her hand has now wrapped around my cock.

My back flattens against my seat as my hands selfishly drift up to rest on the steering wheel, leaving my lap wide open for her to do as she pleases. Goddamn, I hope she wants to suck my dick.

“Norris will be setting up for a while, yeah?” I’ve only watched his routine twice, but he’s pretty methodical. And he’s not likely to wander over here to the far corner of the parking lot.

“We don’t officially open for forty minutes. And it’s Wednesday.” She lifts her shoulder and pulls my cock out as she leans over my lap and rests her elbows on my thigh.

“Yeah, Wednesday. Notorious for nobody going outside,” I say, my nervous laugh broken by the feel of her lips on the tip of my cock.

“Oh, fuck. Frankie, I’m not going to take long.” My words fall out in a rush. Forget all rationality. This is one of those forbidden fantasies come to life. If I admitted how often I imagined her doing this to me, her brother would definitely put me in the ground. The reality of it is so much better than I dreamt.

“ Mmm , your dick is warm,” she says, her mouth covering half my cock as she closes her lips around my shaft and slides down until I touch the back of her throat.

“Gah!” I let out, my right hand pulling the red Santa hat from her head so I can watch her take all of me in her mouth. I wrap her braids around my fist and gently coax her down my cock again.

“I’m going to come so fucking hard, Frankie. So hard.” I run my free hand along her spine, lifting her short skirt as she stands just outside my Bronco. Her cheeks are bare, her legs uncovered thanks to our handiwork from yesterday.

“You are so the naughty one, you know that?” I spank her lightly then gather up the edge of her bloomers in my fist.

“ Mmm , I am very naughty,” she says, her mouth vibrating against my cock as she speaks. Her tongue follows my length as she twists her head to look me in the eyes. Her lips smile against my shaft, and I let go of her hair to push my dick between her lips.

“Take it all,” I command.

Her smile remains, and she keeps her eyes on me at first as she slowly fills her mouth with my length. She turns her head again to take me completely, and my palm covers her head. I want to hold her there, to pump my hips. But we aren’t in that safe of a place right now. Sure, that makes it hotter. It also makes it a little criminal. But fuck, does it feel good.

I lift my hips a little, and she moans. I stare out the window, forcing my eyes to remain open and vigilant, though all I want to do is stare at the ceiling and fuck her mouth so hard and fast. I maintain my discipline but shove her bloomers up higher and run my fingertip along her ass until I find her soaking wet pussy. I dip one finger inside, and she moans as she sucks my cock. It swells in her mouth, and I know I’m going to drown her with my cum in seconds.

“I promise to make it even after work,” I say, teasing her while she works me in and out of her mouth. Sucking the tip and pausing for a beat before dropping her mouth down on me again, taking all of me. She grabs the base of my shaft with her hand the closer I get to coming, and when she strokes me while resting my tip against her tongue, I drop my hand on her head. We share a look that I hope lets her know I’m about to come, and she grins against my cock before taking me fully so I can come inside her mouth. She swallows every drop, even running her palm along her bottom lip when she lifts her head and licking away any remnants. It’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. And right now, I don’t give two shits about keeping a secret from her brother. At this point, if he kills me, I’ll just come back as a ghost and haunt Frankie Bardot so I can fuck her every night.