Page 120 of Slapshot Obsession
Coach clears his throat to get our attention again. “You can braid each other’s hair later. I have one last announcement before I can get the fuck out of here, go on vacation and not think about your candy ass pucks for two whole weeks.”
“Aww, Coach,” I chuckle. “We know you’ll think about us twenty-four-seven. We’ll even be in your dreams.”
“More like my nightmares, Prescott.” He barks.
But I know that deep down he loves me.
“I’m gonna cut to the chase and let you know that in two weeks we’re going to have two new teammates.”
The announcement causes a shocked gasp in the locker room.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Coach,” Mack says. “But how is that possible? The window for transfers closed in the spring. And if the two new players are freshmen, shouldn’t they have been here for summer training?”
“Shayba,” Coach barks. “Way to start by pissing me off with the first thing that comes out of yourmouth thirty seconds after I named you team captain. Shut the fuck up and let me explain.”
Mack’s hand flies to the back of his neck. I’ve never seen him blush before today. “Sorry, Coach.”
“You should be. Now, if no one else has any further smart ass comments, this is a very exceptional circumstance. Most of you know that last year the Dean of Bridgeport University was caught in a huge scandal. He had founded a talent agency through which he controlled the entire athletic department of the university. After his untimely death, it finally came to light how deep his influence ran. Not only the athletic department, but the entire institution was used as a private source of funding for his own agency. The level of embezzlement that was discovered by the school’s new administrators was such that it bankrupted the entire institution. Bridgeport University was officially shut down last week.”
This time, not even Coach’s death glare can stop the collective gasp of surprise that echoes throughout the locker room.
“Fuck,” Haller says. “We knew that last year the Bridgeport Tigers were far from the team we had known in the past, but that’s rough. What are the players going to do? Without a school, they have no team.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Coach glares. “Seen these unusual circumstances, the NCAA has offered the rest of the Division One teams the opportunity to offer a spot to any former Bridgeport players. So I’m pleased to announce that a new defenseman and a new right winger from the Tigers are going to join us in two weeks. These players will also continue their studies in Star Cove.”
Vaughn rubs his chin. “That’s cool. We really needed a decent right winger. It’s our weakest spot.”
“I agree.” Coach says. “For once in your life you didn’t open your mouth to embarrass yourself, Heston. Keep it up. You might remember our two new Cove Knights. The defenseman is Nigel Worthing, a senior, and the right winger is Becker Shayba, a sophomore.”
“Shayba? Is there any relation with you, Mack?” Nash asks, and we all look at Mack, who’s standing in front of his locker with a stony expression and a tick in his jaw.
His usual easygoing smile is gone, and right now he’s channeling Coach Harrison’s scariest glare. “I’d say so. He’s my younger brother.”
“Oh, that’s cool, then.” I slap Mack on the back. “I didn’t even know you had a brother. Why did he go to Bridgeport? He should have come to Star Cove from the beginning and played with you.”
Mack’s scowl darkens. “Maybe if you ask him that, you’ll get the answer I never got. Don’t you think I told him he should come to Star Cove? He got in too, early acceptance. But he chose to go to Bridgeport instead, and we haven’t spoken for over a year. Now he comes to play onmy team? I hope he’s ready to prove himself, because I’m not going to get bent over backwards to help him get settled in Star Cove.”
Fuck. The tension radiating from Mack could power the big Ferris wheel at the end of the pier for an entire summer. Next season should be interesting.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EVER AFTER
TARYN
Los Angeles, California
Two years later
“Fuck, baby.” My hair is wrapped around Tucker’s fist. His hold tightens as I take him deeper into my throat, sending little jolts of pleasure that travel from my scalp all the way down to my throbbing clit.
I moan as I suck harder on my way back up for air, dragging my tongue over the underside of his thick, hard shaft.
“I’m so fucking close.” His voice is low and raspy, almost desperate. “Are you gonna swallow me down like a good girl? Every last drop?”
I let out another moan, swirling my tongue around the sensitive skin of his crown.
Tucker’s dark blue eyes are fixed into mine, full of lust and pleasure. “You’re my lucky charm, baby.” He croons. “If we win the Cup tonight, it’s thanks to your perfect mouth wrapped around my cock before every home game?—”
