Ice Bet: A Forbidden Hockey Romance (Bexley U)

My life flashed before my eyes. What a shame it would have been if I only got one night with her before her dad killed me.

“Riley?” Coach stopped mid-step, freezing at the sight of his daughter in the kitchen with a puff of flour surrounding her.

“Hey, Dad.” She was as poised as ever, but I knew it was fake, because her sweats were definitely damp from the orgasm I just gave her.

“What are you doing over here in my players’ apartment?” Berkley, Ford, and I stood casually, pretending like nothing was unusual.

Nothing to see here. 

“Riley is making us breakfast.” Ford yawned.

“She’s making you breakfast?” he repeated. Then he turned and looked at her. “You’re making them breakfast?” Question marks were carved into the wrinkles along his forehead. “Why?”

“Uh…” Riley grabbed the eggs out of the fridge. Thank God Efrain went grocery shopping.

“Becauseeeee,” Ford sang. “She lost a bet.”

I coughed. My glare was a permanent fixture on my face. Riley dropped an entire egg in the pancake batter and sucked in her cheeks.

Nice, Ford. Nice. 

“A bet?” Coach pondered, clearly becoming distracted.

“If we beat her loser ex’s team last night, she had to make us breakfast this morning.”

Coach thought it over and glared at his daughter, seemingly forgetting why he was at our apartment. “Is that why you were wearing a Rosewood jersey? Because of a silly bet between you and my players? Or were you trying to get that asshat’s attention?”

He had no idea the irony in that statement. A bet. My heart beat harder and harder.

“I wasn’t trying to get Gray’s attention.”

Oh, she absolutely was, but she got mine instead.

“And you?” Coach’s tone changed real fast when he directed his question to me. “Were you provoking him on the ice so he’d come after you later?”

“I provoked him beca—”

Ford stepped forward, interrupting me. “We.”

I sighed. “We provoked him on the ice because he did your daughter dirty.” For once, I didn’t have to lie to his face.

Not to mention, he was totally on board with it during the game.

Riley slammed down the skillet a little too forcefully. “I didn’t ask you guys to do that. I had it handled.”

Coach ignored her and kept his unwavering glare on me. “And who handled it last night at Chi Alpha Sigma?” He stepped forward, and he eyed me closely. “I told you not to go. I told you—”

“You told him to keep me from going,” Riley said under her breath, knowing we all heard her.

Coach opened his mouth to rebut her assumption. “Riley.”

“Don’t,” she said, putting her hand up.

Silence filled our apartment, except for the sound of oil in the pan. Coach placed his hands on his hips while he watched his daughter move around comfortably in our kitchen, making herself right at home.

“I can’t believe you’re making them breakfast.”

If I was reading him correctly, he was a little jealous.

“You haven’t made me breakfast since you were seven.”

She grinned while pouring pancake batter into the pan. I was completely captivated by her movements, and I hoped that her dad didn’t notice the way my eyes followed her.

“Well, I’m not doing this willingly.”

“I hope you aren’t poisoning us.” Ford took a seat beside me at the bar.

“Where were you guys last night?” Coach asked, ping-ponging his attention between me, Ford, and Berkley.

“I was at the party for a little while, but I…left.” Berkley looked away.

“You left?” Coach asked. “And came home?”

“Not at first.”

“Where did you—” He shook his head before briefly looking at Riley. “Never mind. Ford?”

Ford’s smug smirk told me all I needed to know. “I went with Emory, but I didn’t stay long.”

“Let me guess, you also went somewhere other than here? I hope you two have someone to back that statement up.”

He smiled while wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, we definitely do.”

“Not in front of my daughter!” Coach scolded Ford.

I refused to look at Riley, because if he knew that his daughter was here getting rammed by me the night before…

“Sorry, sorry!” Ford mumbled.

Coach turned to me as the scent of pancakes filled the apartment. “And where were you?” He dropped his eyes to my knuckles. There wasn’t a nick on them. The only thing that was on them was his daughter’s dried cum.

I’m dead.

“Uh…” I kept my face as smooth as possible, even if I was picturing Riley spread open in my bed.

“He was with me.”

My heart stopped.

“What did you just say?” Coach’s face was green, and I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or ill.

“We were at the rink.” Riley placed the spatula down slowly, and she seemed completely at ease. Meanwhile, I was sweating through my shirt. “He’s been helping me get ready for tryouts.”

The shock was enough to pull her dad’s murderous thoughts away from me. The lines around his eyes softened, and the vein above his left eyebrow magically disappeared. “So Bob was right?”

Riley’s eyes found mine, and my entire spine stiffened.

Fuck us. 

“Bob?” I asked, taking some of the weight off her shoulders.

Coach nodded. “He said he thought he saw you two sneaking out of the rink the other night, and I chalked it up to his old age and poor vision.”

“We’ve been going almost every night for weeks.” Riley’s voice was timid and sweet—something that worked over her dad like magic.

“Really?” He walked over and leaned against the bar beside me. I pictured him taking his hand and slamming my face onto the granite if he were to find out the truth, but thankfully, he seemed blinded by surprise that she was back on the ice.

“And how is it going?”

Riley’s smile was real. It was bright, beautiful, and a complete sucker punch right to my chest. “Good. Really, really good.”

“There it is,” he whispered, tapping his knuckles against the counter. “That’s what your mom and I have been missing.”

“What?” Her cheeks ripened with embarrassment. She turned around and flipped a pancake.

“Your smile,” I said in a low voice. Fuck, did I say that out loud?

All eyes were on me. I waited patiently for Coach Lennon’s hand to make contact with the back of my skull. This is gonna hurt.

Ford swooped in and saved the day. “It’s the only time you smile, Ry-Ry. But we all get it. We like the ice too.”

Ry-Ry? 

I cleared my throat and walked around the edge of the counter to inhale oxygen that wasn’t stained with guilt. The plates clinked together as I gripped them with force and placed them beside the stove. I went to take a pancake, and Riley slapped the top of my hand with the hot spatula.

“Ow, fuck!” I said, snatching my hand away from the stack. A red welt was forming.

The guys snickered, and the tension lessened. Coach chuckled under his breath.

“I have nothing to worry about with you anymore, do I?” he asked, looking right at Riley. I walked around the bar and sat down, waiting for Riley’s permission to get a pancake, because apparently, I wasn’t allowed to.

“No.” She peeked over her shoulder, showing off those baby blues. “You don’t.”

Coach waited for a beat before pushing off the counter. He looked at us. “If I find out any of you are lying and you are responsible for knocking Gray Loretto’s lights out…” His threat faded as we waited for him to finish. But he never did. “Well, okay, then.”

My lip twitched.

I looked away as he hugged Riley. They had a quiet conversation, and I was sure he was probing her confession of skating again, so we gave them the privacy they deserved. When he left, after telling us to gear up for tomorrow’s practice, Riley blew out a breath so hard it moved her hair out of her face. She turned the stove off, and we all reached for a pancake, but she pulled the plate back.

“These are for me. Make your own!”

“What?!” Ford shouted. “I just saved your ass!”

“Technically, you saved Aasher’s ass. Maybe he’ll make you pancakes.” Her coy smile had me by the balls. I moved closer to her and slipped the spatula out of her hand.

“Nice save,” I whispered.

Then I got to work making pancakes.

“Do a triple.” I skated backward as I challenged Riley. Loose hair framed her face, and I forced myself to put space between us because I knew that the arena wasn’t officially empty yet. Not to mention, her dad knew that she’d been here daily after our practices. We had to be careful in case he came and watched from afar.

It didn’t matter, though. Not being allowed to touch her only ramped up my touches for later when she crept into my room. Every night since Friday, she was in my bed. Sometimes we watched Netflix, and other times, we studied. It always ended the same, though. Her on her back, and me unable to keep my hands to myself.

The obsession was growing unhealthier every day.

She was mine behind closed doors, but I wanted her to be mine all the time.

“Are you gonna catch me if I fall?” The graceful way she spun on the ice grabbed me by the throat. I followed every sway of her hips and longed to run my hands down the curves of her legs.

“You won’t fall.” I dropped my voice. “Remember who you’re skating for, baby. If you dig down deep, you’ll find that skill still nestled inside. You don’t need me or anyone else.”

I wanted her to need me.

But she didn’t.

Her soft breath hit me square in the face, and my nostrils flared. She knew the effect she had on me, and her knowing little smile was the last thing I saw before she backed up and shook out her hands.

I stayed put.

My skates itched to slide me forward, but I didn’t.

Riley was skilled beyond belief on the ice. She was better than me. More poised, more in control, and more at ease. The ice became compliant to her, not the other way around.

When I played hockey, it was loud and always a rush. For Riley, it was serene and calm. She was captivating. Her fluid movements sucked me in, and when her leg straightened out with a soft turn, I found my lips parting and my jaw slacking. She was right at home. I was pretty sure she forgot I was in the rink with her, but I could never forget where she was. My thoughts were wrapped around her like a blanket, and my future was looking a lot like pretty blue eyes in the morning instead of stark-white ice beneath my skates.

Riley skated backward, and her fluid movements became sharper. I straightened my back and prepared myself for the triple I knew she was trying to perfect. A breath was lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t help myself. I skated over to her mid-spin, and when she landed and leaned forward, I wrapped my hands around her lithe waist and hoisted her up to my chest.

“You’re leaning forward too far.”

The fast pace of her ribcage in my hands did nothing to distract me from glancing at her pouty mouth. “I am not.”

“You are. Do it again.” I wanted to kiss her so fucking badly. I peeked up in the stands and saw nothing but empty seats. Her shaky fingers gripped my biceps.

“Is there anyone behind me?” I asked against her ear. My stomach filled with loose knots that I was pretty sure were a direct cause of having her in my grip.

Instead of enjoying the last few games of the season before the cup games, I wanted to get through them so I could make her mine.

“No one is behind you.”

I cupped the side of her face, and I kissed her so deeply a strangled noise left her throat. A gasp floated out of her mouth when I let her lips go, and her eyes glossed over with need. “Do it again.”

I dropped my hands and skated away. Her arms fell beside her thighs, and she moved her neck to the left and then to the right before evening her breathing and doing it again.

I caught her by the waist. But this time, she tightened her stomach and pulled up quicker than before.

“Again,” I said, letting her go.

Three more times, and every time she got better.

“Don’t wear yourself out, Ry.”

I almost slipped at the sound of her dad’s voice. There was a pain behind my ribs, and it very well could have been the sign of a heart attack.

Riley’s shocked gape found me, and I shook my head, silently telling her to calm down.

“Skate for you,” I mouthed.

She nodded before looking over my shoulder.

“I’ve almost got it,” she shouted to her dad. “This is the last time.”

I skated away, giving her space. He walked farther down the stairs and met me near the penalty box. That damn penalty box. I refused to look at the bench where I had tasted Riley for the first time, because this was not the place.

“I can’t believe she’s on the ice.” Coach used a tone that I was certain he only reserved for her. I understood it, though. Riley had a way of bringing out a softer side.

“You sound proud.”

I kept my gaze on her.

“I am.”

I couldn’t help myself from stating the obvious. “You know she wants to be the best to make you proud, right?”

Coach’s hands dropped to the edge of the sin bin, and his white knuckles caught my eye. “That’s what got her into this mess in the first place. Her desire to be perfect. The best.”

I nodded, understanding her more and more as time went on. “She let the control take over.” And it all started with that little shit who took advantage of her.

“Too busy trying to prove something to everyone else.”

“Except herself.”

We both followed her spin, and I stood straighter, knowing she was gearing up for the triple.

I sighed before shouting across the rink. “Do it for you, Riley.”

Her father said nothing.

We stood in silence with too many unsaid words shared between us.

I held my breath, and my knuckles grew white with tension, just like his.

The jump was breathtaking. Her dark hair was a halo around her head with the angelic spin. The arch of her back and gentle landing had me drowning in satisfaction.

“Yes!” I shouted, elbowing her dad, forgetting that he was my coach. “Did you see that?”

He was smiling, and I was thankful he was too blinded by Riley landing her turn to notice how proud I was. I couldn’t hide it even if I wanted to. 

“I did,” he finally answered, shaking his head with astonishment. He turned around after giving Riley a thumbs-up. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder at me and said, “Thank you for keeping her away from Gray the other night.”

I nodded.

“Who knew that having you keep an eye out for her would lead her back to herself?”

That’s not all that I’ve led her to.

Coach disappeared, and Riley’s skates against the ice caught my attention. I turned around, and her smile made me unsteady. “I did it.”

The guilt lessened the more I stared at the bright light in her eyes. Shit, I am wrapped around her finger. I wanted to spend the rest of my life putting that pretty glow on her cheeks. My heart sped up the more I stared at her gleaming smile.

“Come on.” I pulled on her hand, and she skated into my chest. A strangled noise left her, and I picked her up around the waist and carried us to the locker room.

“What are you doing?!” The blades of her skates dug into my lower back. “My dad probably isn’t even in his car yet.”

Fuck it.

The locker room was empty. I knew Coach was the last to leave. He was finalizing game plans for tomorrow. Typically, I was excited for away games. It was always a breath of fresh air to play in a different rink, and the guys were usually pumped up to defeat someone in their home rink, but I was frustrated that Riley wouldn’t be in the stands.

“I don’t care,” I said, pushing her up against his office door.

“Aasher,” she warned.

Her eyes moved all around the locker room.

 “We won’t be alone for long. We have a hockey game to play, remember?”

Oh, right. And yet…

“I don’t care,” I repeated, shoving my hand into her pants. Her chest jutted forward, and my smile felt dangerous.

“If my dad forgets something…”

She was acting like she didn’t want me to touch her in fear of someone walking in, but her hips tilted, and she gave me more access.

“I’m doing what I want.” I kissed her long and hard, stroking my tongue against hers. Our little makeout session went straight to my dick, and I wasn’t sure if it was because we were in a rush, or if it was because I was so proud of her, but either way, I was uncontrollable. “It’s what you want too,” I said between a groan, pulling my fingers out of her. She was wet as hell, needy for my touch.

I bit down on her earlobe and fingered her again. Her hips moved against my hand, rubbing her clit on the heel of my palm. “Do you know how torturous it is to watch you move on the ice and not be able to touch you? I can’t go back into the rink without witnessing this.”

I loved watching her command the ice, but I loved watching her orgasm more.

“Watch what?” She dragged in a heavy breath, shutting her eyes as she tightened around my fingers.

“You riding my hand against your dad’s office door, knowing that someone could walk in at any moment.” I was acting absolutely feral, but I couldn’t help it.

She moaned, and I smiled. “You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you?”

I curled my finger against her, and mid-orgasm, I pulled my hand away and placed her back on the ground. I flipped her around and shoved my pants down. Fuck this. No one was stopping me from having her.

We both groaned when I entered her. I bit down on her sweaty neck. She tasted like salt and winter, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She threw her head back. “Harder.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head when I rammed inside of her, catching my name on her mouth with her quick orgasm. I pumped my strained cock in and out of her a few more times, frantically racing toward my own release. I pulled out quickly and shot my cum on her dad’s office door, dropping my head to her shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, completely shocked at my behavior. I knew how to fuck, but that was intense.

We were both out of breath. I tucked myself away and pulled up her pants, knowing that her own pleasure was still dripping down her legs. Her sweaty and freshly fucked face was trapped in between my hands, and I kissed her slower this time, edging back and looking down at my cum sliding against the office door. “You make me do wild things.”

“I promised myself I’d never be with another hockey player, and yet, I just let you fuck me against my dad’s office door. So, yeah. I guess I could say the same.”

I chuckled, and her soft laughter filled the locker room.

The door opened, and I thanked my lucky stars that it was the crew, ready to play our ceremonial hockey game the night before our own. “Let’s gooooo! I have a milkshake to get!” Ford walked farther inside with Berkley and Emory following closely behind. They started grabbing their pads, but I watched silently as Ford jerked his head over his shoulder and looked at the wet spot beside Riley.

“Is that—”

Emory sniffed the air. “It smells like sex in here.”

Ford bent over and howled with laughter. Riley’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and she glared at me, but nothing could hide the afterglow of an orgasm. I flashed her my teeth, and she sighed wistfully, walking out of the locker room, knowing we’d all follow her onto the ice.

Ford threw a towel at me, hitting me in the face. “You are so fucking screwed, Aasher. It’s too bad you aren’t a part of that little ice bet Sully arranged, because you’d definitely win after that.”

I cleaned up my cum, ready to have a little chat with the rest of the team about Riley.

Team bond be damned. Not a single one of them was allowed to have an impure thought about my girl, or I’d cross-check them and not even think twice about it.