TYLER
Sometimes I think losing by one goal is worse than a blowout. If I’d just played a little better, been more on my game, and stopped that one fucking shot…
The rest of the team admittedly played like shit tonight, but even that feels like my fault. Letting in that initial goal so early in the first period shook our morale and left us playing catch up for the rest of the game. For all my talk about being able to shake off bad losses, it’s a lot harder to do when one rests squarely on my shoulders.
Sitting on my bed, I open the game tape from tonight on my phone and cue up all the goals I let in from start to finish. Easy to do when I know exactly what time each of them was scored. It happens every time I let a puck slip past me. The numbers on the clock are seared into my brain.
One or two of tonight’s goals could be chalked up to bad luck, and there’s a third I’ll give myself a pass on because it was a shot anyone would’ve struggled to stop, but the other three are the result of definite errors on my part. Shrinking down instead of holding my form, thereby creating more openings for the other team to target. Staying too far back into the crease when I should’ve been cutting down the angle. In short, not playing well enough.
The second time I watch the goals, I’m even more pissed at myself. The fourth goal was so fucking weak I can’t believe I let it in. The fifth, borderline embarrassing. What was I doing out there?
Since Christmas, I’ve been rock solid. Three shutouts, and several more wins. This is one loss, and somehow it’s still fucking with my head.
A soft knock draws my attention, and I pause the video, glancing up. “Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” Seraphina opens the door partway, peeking inside.
I don’t hesitate. “Always.”
Expression cautious, she quietly closes the door and crosses the room to me. She’s changed for bed, wearing a dark purple tank top and matching shorts, and her face is freshly washed. I hate how hesitant she looks; like she’s not sure I want her here. The truth is that I always do, but it felt wrong to seek her out when I’m in such a dark state of mind. I know I’m not great company at the moment.
As soon as she’s within reach, I wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap. Her body is soft and warm, fitting perfectly against mine. Fuck, she smells amazing. Faint traces of her perfume, hints of her cherry-scented lip balm she must’ve put on after brushing her teeth, along with something that’s just uniquely her.
“Everyone else went upstairs so I thought I’d check on you,” she says softly.
Tension winds through me, and I choose my next words with care. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I don’t want to talk about the game, Tink.”
“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk.” Soft hands grasp mine, sliding the phone out of my grip. The screen darkens as she locks it, setting it on my nightstand. “Maybe you should put this away for the night, though. It’s late.”
She leans against me without saying anything more. The longer I hold her, the more I relax. Her presence calms the storm that’s been brewing inside me since I let in that first weak goal. As stress from earlier melts away, all that remains is exhaustion on every level. It’s heavy, like an anchor dragging me down.
“Can you stay?” I ask. It’s a selfish request, and I know it. It means she’ll have to sneak back upstairs early in the morning.
“Only if you give me a shirt to sleep in.”
“Of course. Take anything you want.”
Seraphina opens my closet and rifles through the shirts before settling on the same one from the night when I took care of her. Turning to face me, she sheds her tank top, then her shorts, left in nothing but a small cotton pair of white panties. They’re different from her usual sexy fare, but no less hot.
Once she pulls on my T-shirt, she climbs back into bed with me and I pull her into my arms. We lay tangled together, half-spooning.
“I had a bad day too,” she says, her voice hushed.
There’s a pang in my chest because I had no idea. “Sorry, Tink. Wanna talk about it?”
“Not right now.”
We’re quiet for a few more moments. It’s a comfortable silence, and I’m thankful she gives it to me. I’ve never had anyone here like this with me after a loss. Obviously, I’ve been with girls after bad games before, but it was more about forgetting via fucking. Having someone hold space for you is different. It feels deeper.
“Do you want me to pet you?” she asks.
Only she could make me laugh right now. “I won’t turn it down.”
Her pink nails trail down my arm, going back and forth lightly. It’s one step below tickling, and it feels nice.
A tired groan resonates in the back of my throat. “Now I see why you like this.”
Even though sex was the last thing on my mind when I saw her standing at my door, and even though we’re not doing anything overtly sexual, my body responds to her proximity. She knows it, too, because it’s impossible to miss.
The covers rustle as she shifts onto her side, facing me. Her warm brown eyes scan my face like she’s trying to get a read on my mood. It’s a given that I’m always in the mood for her.
I slide my hand around the back of her neck, drawing her to me for a kiss. Her breath catches before she lets out a soft sigh, melting in my arms. Everything that happened earlier vanishes. In this moment, the only thing that exists is the two of us, her soft curves beneath my hands, the heat of her body warming mine.
Burying my fingers in her hair, I angle her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand curls around my neck as her cherry-scented lips part, granting me access. When our tongues meet, a cascade of fireworks erupts in my body from head to toe. My blood heats with desire, and I grip her tighter in response. Every time I kiss her, it feels like I’ve never kissed a woman before. I’m starved; crazed; each taste I get leaves me hungry for more.
A giggle bursts through her lips as I push her onto her back, repositioning us so I’m between her legs. I kiss that spot beneath her ear that makes her moan, then continue on my mission south.
Seraphina hums happily, running her fingers through my hair. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.”
“Nothing turns me on more than making you feel good, Ser.” I hike up the hem of my shirt she’s wearing, revealing her tits. My lips trail over the swell of her breasts before I take each perfect nipple into my mouth one at a time, my tongue swirling until they harden into peaks.
“All the little pieces of you no one else gets?” I say, running my palms down her stomach. “Those are my favorite.”
I’m not sure I’m talking about sex anymore.
Leaning on my elbows, I spread her legs wider as I drink in one of my favorite views. My mouth lands on her center, kissing through her white panties.
Her thighs clench. “Ty.” My name is a moan across her lips, and it isn’t quiet. We’ve been taking more risks than we should lately, but it’s hard to care about that when I’m about to make her come all over my face.
She watches me, her pupils dilated as I slide off her underwear and toss them aside. I leave my shirt on her because I’m a dirty fucker and I’ve jerked off to this very mental image at least a dozen times: Seraphina in my shirt, her perfect pussy on full display.
I tease her mercilessly, kissing and licking everywhere except for the spot she wants it most. She’s patient at first, then starts to wriggle to urge me on. When I think she’s sufficiently frustrated, I sweep my tongue against her clit, deliberate and slow. Her breath catches and her back arches, silently begging for more.
“You’re so wet, Ser.” I tsk, dragging a finger along her soaking slit. My cock is so hard it hurts, and I can’t wait to be buried deep inside her next. “Such a good girl for me. And what do good girls get?”
“To come?” she pleads.
“That’s right.” Gripping her thigh with one hand to keep her legs spread wide, I slip a finger inside her, followed by another. When I curl them to caress her g-spot in a perfect echo of my mouth, her legs jolt and she grows even wetter.
“Oh.” She twitches, digging her nails into my shoulder. “There.”
I slide my other arm underneath her thigh and wrap it around, locking her in place against me. Splaying my palm on her lower stomach, I press down while my fingers stroke her, my tongue flicking over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Fuck, she tastes like heaven. I think I’m addicted to her.
Her breaths quicken, coming in smaller bursts. When I suck her clit, her entire body tenses, and another desperate whimper wrenches from her lips. But this whimper is different; it’s the point-of-no-return sound she makes, and it drives me fucking wild.
She gasps, and her feet press into the mattress, hips lifting. “Oh god.”
Soft moans mingle with not-so-quiet cries as she writhes beneath me, falling apart, and I devour her until she’s a quivering, dripping mess. Once she gets giggly from the overstimulation, I slow my movements to let her down gradually. Planting a kiss on her soft inner thigh, I smooth my hands up her body, and cup her breasts, feeling her heart beat wildly against my palm for a few beats. Knowing I did that to her has an effect on me I can’t even explain.
I come to hover above her, bracing on my forearms. Her cheeks are flushed, lips rosy, and she looks completely blissed out.
Ducking my head, I bring my mouth to hers. “Hi, Tinker Bell.”
“Hi, Hades.” She meets me halfway, smiling into our kiss.
It’s at this moment that I realize I’m well and truly fucked, because this doesn’t feel like just sex. I’m not sure it ever did.
