Puck Shy (Carolina Comets)

It’s still early in the season and I’m not trying to jinx anything, but we are already on fire. We’re on a six-game winning streak, and out of those six games, I’ve put up a point in all but one.

Coach is happy with me. Shep is happy with me. And Colter is finally off my fucking back.

I don’t know if it’s just the superstitious hockey player in me, but I can’t help but think it’s all Harper that has this good mojo flowing.

I think she might be my good luck charm.

“Col, man. That goal was sick. You going out to celebrate?” Rhodes asks, dropping onto the bench next to me. “Hear there are some sick drag clubs here.”

We just wrapped up a win in Vegas and we don’t leave until tomorrow morning, so some of the guys are going out for a celebratory drink and general debauchery.

I roll my eyes at him. “Nah. I’m good. I’m gonna—”

“Call your girl?”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Dude, come on.” He gives me a look. “You call her every night we’re on the road, and every night we’re not, you’re over at her place. Face it—she’s your girl.”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s casual.”

That’s what we agreed on. Keep it simple and easy. Since my focus needs to be on keeping my numbers up and winning games, I’m perfectly fine with that.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

His tone says he doesn’t agree, but he pats me on the back and leaves me to finish undressing anyway.

I hit the showers real quick and change back into my suit just in time to catch the bus. It’s a quick ride back to the hotel, and most of the guys drop off their crap and head back out. I stay in, order some dinner, and flop back onto my bed, phone to my ear as I dial Harper.

It’s late there, but I know she’ll be awake. No matter how many times I tell her she doesn’t need to stay up to see the games, especially the ones across time zones, she just laughs.

I don’t think she’s ready to admit it, but she’s totally addicted to hockey.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I say through a grin when her soft, smooth voice hits me. “Please tell me you saw that goal.”

“From Colter? Yeah, it was pretty sweet.”

A growl vibrates through my chest, and she laughs.

“Yes, Collin, I saw your goal. It was a beauty.”

“A beauty, huh? Someone has been brushing up on their hockey lingo, I see.”

“I might have googled a few things the announcers said. It’s like they’re speaking a foreign language sometimes.”

“You pick up on it fast.”

“I’m learning that. So, other than a beauty of a goal”—I swear I can hear her smile—“how was your night?”

“Same shit, different city. Just ordered some room service, planning on watching something on TV. But enough about me. How was your day?”

“Long.” She sighs, and I imagine she’s sitting on her couch, a wineglass in her hand. “But I got three new orders in today, so that makes me and my bank account very happy.”

“Am I ever going to get to see your studio?”

“Nope.” She pops the P loudly.

Last time I was over there, I tried to go inside to see what it is she does, but she locked the door on me. I don’t know why she’s so self-conscious about it. Clearly she’s talented if she’s making a living doing it.

But I’ll let her have it for now.

“So, whatcha wearing?”

She barks out a laugh at my sudden change in subject. “Wow. Very subtle.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.”

I hear water, and I sit up in bed. “Are you in the tub?”

“Maybe.” She drags the word out teasingly.

I groan. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“You say that like you didn’t just see me two nights ago.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“You just like getting laid regularly.”

“And spending time with you.”

A knock sounds at my door and I get up, letting the room service in. I give the guy a tip and thank him for bringing it up so late.

When I’ve settled back onto the bed, I notice that Harper hasn’t responded yet.

“You still there?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“You do know it’s not just about the sex, right? You know I like spending time with you, yeah? Because in case I haven’t said it enough, I like you, Harper.”

“I like you too, Collin.”

“Enough to show me your titties?”

She laughs. “You just said it wasn’t all about the sex.”

“And I meant it. But right now, my dick is straining against my pants thinking about you naked in the tub, and I’d really, really like to see your tits.”

A beep sounds in my ear, and I pull the phone away.

I grin and hit accept on the incoming FaceTime call.

A bubble-covered Harper fills the screen, and it hits me just how much the words I said before are true.

I like spending time with her, and seeing her now, I miss her.

Not just the sex but her.

I’m not used to missing people.

“Hi.”

Her cheeks turn pink at the simple word. She props the phone up on something and settles back against the tub. “Hi.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of cute, Harper?”

She rolls her eyes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of annoying?”

“I seem to recall being called that before.”

She shifts around in the tub, and the boob gods must be on my side today, because I definitely see nipple.

“Did you just flash me on purpose?”

“Oh. Did I do that?” A wicked grin curves her lips. “My bad.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. I wish I were there right now.”

“I do too.”

“How much?”

“So much.”

“Can…can we try something?”

She nods slowly.

I scoot back on my bed until my back rests against the headboard. I prop the phone against the lamp and pull my shirt over my head, leaving me in nothing but a pair of jeans.

I settle in on the mattress, picking up the phone and looking into the camera just in time to see Harper’s tongue roll over her bottom lip.

“Are you liking what you see?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in her answer. “Very much so.”

“What would you do if you were here now?”

“I’d probably run my tongue over your abs.” The pink on her cheeks deepens. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now.”

“Is that so?” She nods. “I’d let you, ya know. All you have to do is ask.”

“I know.” The words come out as a whisper.

“Can I see more of you?”

Her eyes darken and she pushes whatever the phone is resting against back until more of her comes into view.

She drags a leg up, spreading her legs, but all of her good parts are still hidden by the bubbles.

She looks gorgeous resting there. The hot water has her skin glistening and her hair is twisted up in a bun, a few strands hanging down, framing her face just right. Right now, she’s the epitome of every teenage fantasy I ever had about catching a hot chick in the tub.

“Fuck,” I mutter, and she grins. “You look incredible right now. A wet dream come to life.”

She drags her fingertips over the tops of her breasts, teasing herself and me.

“Are you wet right now?”

She giggles. “Depends on your definition of wet.”

“Your cunt, Harper.” She gasps, and just like that, her laughter is gone. “Is your cunt wet for me?”

She swallows audibly and her hand slides over her tits beneath the bubbles, right between her legs.

I know the moment she makes contact with her pussy, her eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment.

“Yes,” she mutters.

“Good. Touch yourself. Tell me how you feel.”

“Wet.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she moves her hand. “Soft.”

I slide the zipper of my jeans down, the sound almost deafening in the quiet of the room.

She pauses but I nod at her, encouraging her to keep going as I free myself from my pants.

My cock is throbbing and I want to jerk off so fucking badly, but I refrain.

The water sloshes around her as she continues her ministrations.

“What else, Harper? What else does it feel like? What do your fingers feel like on your pussy?”

“Good,” she says quietly. “But not as good as it feels when it’s you.”

“It is me,” I tell her. “I’m there and I’m slipping a finger inside of you.”

Her mouth drops open as she does just that.

“I’m sliding it in and out…but slowly. Almost painfully slow, making sure that the edge of my thumb is brushing against your clit with each steady stroke.”

She plays with herself, her eyes trying to fall closed with each pass she makes inside of what is quickly becoming my favorite spot.

“I add another finger, Harper, but I don’t pick up my pace.”

She adds a second finger, that damned bottom lip of hers being tormented by her teeth again as she stretches herself.

Holy hell, she looks gorgeous. Her head is thrown back as she fights to keep her eyes open with her fingers buried inside herself.

I reach for my leaking cock, swiping my fingers through the pre-cum and using it as lubrication as I begin to lazily jack myself.

I swear she adds another finger without my instruction, and when I ask if she has, all she can do is moan.

Her eyes are closed now, breaths coming in sharp. She’s close, and surprisingly, so am I.

“Get there,” I tell her. “I’m right behind you.”

She slips her other hand into the water, and I know she’s rubbing circles on her clit.

I pick up my pace, and just as she begins to cry out, I follow her right over the edge in a sticky mess.

I don’t know how long our labored breathing fills the room, but it’s long enough that I worry she might have fallen asleep. Her eyes are closed, head resting on the side of the tub.

“You awake still?”

A smile pulls at her lips. “Mmm.”

I chuckle. “Get out of the tub before you really fall asleep and drown yourself. I’d rather not have your ghost haunting me forever because I phone-sexed you to death.”

“What a way to go though.”

Can’t argue with that.

“I’m gonna get in the shower,” I tell her. “I have…a situation on my hands. Literally.”

She wrinkles her nose, still not opening her eyes. “Ew.”

“You’re telling me. Text me when you get out so I know you didn’t drown, okay?”

“I promise.”

She looks so sweet lying there all sated and happy.

I wish I were there with her.

I miss you.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t make myself say it because something tells me Harper won’t like it.

So instead, I hold it in.

“Good night, Harper.”

“Night, Wright.”

I hop into the shower, then scarf down my cold pasta from room service.

Just as I’m pulling down the covers to slip into bed, my phone vibrates against the bedside table.

Harper: Don’t worry. I didn’t drown. Looks like you won’t be haunted by the masturbation ghost…for now.

Harper: P.S. Thank you. I needed that.

Me: Just something to tide you over, you corn dog.

Harper: Did you just call me a corn dog?

Harper: Dammit. Now I want a corn dog.

Me: I meant HORN dog. It autocorrected.

Me: I promise to buy you a corn dog when I get back.

Me: Now go to bed. It’s late there.

Harper: Yes, sir.

Harper: OH! *new kink unlocked*

Me: See? Total corn dog.

“I don’t know whether to be completely annoyed or impressed.” Ryan’s eyes flit between us. “You two did plan this, right?”

“No,” we say in unison, which makes this whole situation even funnier.

“Right. Yeah. Totally buying that.” She points toward the bar Lowell has set up. “I’ll be over there if you two dweebs need me.”

Ryan struts over to the bar, sliding up next to Rhodes. He peers down at her. She says something to him, and that frown that’s always lining his features deepens, then he stomps away.

Huh.

“You know,” Harper says, pulling my attention. “I think she’s just mad she understands our costumes.”

We weren’t lying. We didn’t plan it.

But when Harper opened her door dressed as Laurie Strode in a blonde wig, a pair of flared jeans, and a blue button-up complete with a rip in the sleeve, me standing there dressed as Michael Myers felt like fate.

“Probably.”

I grab her hand and pull her through the costume party Lowell has been putting on for the team since he became captain. Kids are to be left at home, and drunkenness is encouraged. We try to do it as close to Halloween as our schedule allows, and it’s always a blast—sometimes probably too much of one even.

I expect tonight to be no different, especially since we won our seventh game in a row last night.

When we reach a non-crowded spot in the house, I settle onto an empty chair, pulling her into my lap.

“Got a question for you,” I say, peeling off my mask and running a hand through my hair.

Harper pouts. “You looked cuter before.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

She rolls her eyes. “What’s your question?”

“What did you do with the stick I gave you at the home opener?”

She sucks in air through her teeth, scrunching up her face. “Uh…I kind of…gave it away?”

“You did or didn’t? Because that sounded like a question.”

“I did.” Another wince. “I was mad at you and I didn’t really know what to do with it, so I just handed it to some kid.”

“Did you happen to look at the stick at all?”

“I mean, kind of? But not closely. Why?”

“I wrote my phone number on it.”

Her eyes widen and she covers her mouth with her hand. “No.”

“Yes. And guess who called me this morning? Jonathan Lucas Kyler, age 8. He’s in Miss McCarthy’s class and he’s going to be a defenseman in the NHL one day.”

She laughs. “Stop it.”

“Oh, there’s more. He prefers cats to dogs—we had a long chat about why he was wrong on that one—and he loves jalapeños on his pizza. He doesn’t like ketchup—another blasphemous thing—and his favorite cartoon is Adventure Time.”

“He sounds a little misguided, but adorable nonetheless.”

“We have a training session scheduled for next week. He’s offered to teach me a few things that I apparently need help on.”

Her shoulders shake. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you wrote your number on it.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. The kid’s a hoot. Maybe he can help teach me a few things.”

“Please. You’re an amazing player. You don’t need any help.”

“You should have seen me at the start of the season. I was all out of whack.”

“Really? What happened?”

I squeeze her hip. “You did. You’re my good luck charm.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

She looks like she wants to argue but thinks better of it.

Instead, she looks out at the party, taking it all in.

“I can’t believe the captain just opens his home up to everyone like this.”

“Oh, he doesn’t. This isn’t his place. He’s just renting it. Lowell is super private. Most of the team doesn’t even know where he lives.”

“Seriously?”

I nod. “Yeah. He had some…issues before. A relationship gone sour. He really took a step back after everything went down.”

“Well, good for him for putting up boundaries. It sucks to be hurt by the people you love.”

She sounds like she’s speaking from experience and I want to press, but we’re interrupted.

“I don’t think we’ve officially met yet,” Miller says to Harper. “I’m Grady.”

Harper glances at me as if to check to see if he’s cool. I nod.

“Nice to meet you, Grady.”

“I like your costume. Laurie Strode, right?”

“Yes. Are you a fan?”

“Oh hell yeah. Jamie Lee Curtis was looking hot back then. Hell, she’s hot now too. Like in those commercials for that yogurt that makes you shit.”

“Helps you shit. Doesn’t make you shit,” I tell him.

“Eh. Same thing.” He takes a sip of what I hope is water because he’s not exactly the best at holding his liquor. “Why are you two hiding out over here? I think they’re going to set up a game of poker in the basement.”

“Does Lowell know that?”

His silence tells me it’s a no.

Whatever. I’ll let him deal with it. He’s the one in charge of all these idiots, not me.

“So, uh, Harper…saw you brought a friend with you.”

She rolls her lips together. “I did.”

“Is, uh, she single?”

Harper shakes her hand. “Sorta.”

“Wanna help a guy out?”

I groan. “Jesus, Miller. You can’t ask my date to be your wingman.”

“No, it’s okay,” Harper says. “I’ll help you out. If you can find her, tell her you think Grease is better than Grease 2.”

“What’s Grease?”

“A movie. Don’t worry, she’ll tell you all about it.”

“All right. Thank you.”

He takes off excitedly, a new pep in his step.

“You just sent him to the wolves, didn’t you?”

“Oh, certainly. Ryan would eat him alive.”

“He’s a good kid. Hell of a player too. Just a little…”

“Desperate?”

I laugh. “You said it, not me.”

“Speaking of desperate…” She leans into me. “I think someone owes me a corn dog.”

“Did you just refer to my dick as a corn dog?”

“What? No!” She tosses her head back. “Oh god. That did sound like that, didn’t it? I literally meant a corn dog. I am starving and those appetizers are just not doing it. I’m desperate for real food.”

I place my hand on her stomach. “I swear this thing is a bottomless pit.”

“It really is. And I’m sure all this food will catch up to me one day—and hopefully go straight to my ass—but until then, I’m going to enjoy it and eat until I burst.”

“First of all, I think your ass is just perfect.” I slip my hand over it, giving it a squeeze. “Second, let’s get out of here. There’s a place I know that serves fair food all year long.”

“Seriously? Like funnel cakes and root beer floats?”

I swipe at the corner of her lip. “You’re drooling.”

“Shut up.” She swats at me. “And lead the way.”

She pushes off my lap and pulls at me to get up too. I grab her hand and lead her back through the house the way we came.

There are even more people inside than before, but it’s like this every year. What starts as a party for the team and their spouses always turns into a full-blown rager.

Harper tugs on my hand, and I look back at her.

“I need to tell Ryan I’m leaving,” she says into my ear so I can hear her over the thumping music. She points toward the corner of the living room where Ryan is sitting, talking animatedly. Miller’s next to her, and he looks like he’s about to hurl. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol I’m almost positive he was drinking or if it’s from Ryan laying into him.

Harper makes her way through the throngs of people and I hang back, crossing my arms over my chest, keeping an eye on her. She looks adorably tiny weaving around the tall players, but what’s funny is that I’m not sure any of them would be able to actually handle her.

“Huh.”

I turn toward the voice coming from my left.

Lowell’s standing there, a red Solo cup lifted to his lips.

“Huh what?” I ask.

“You’re smitten.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh, no, dude. You are definitely smitten,” Rhodes backs him up, appearing on my right out of nowhere. “It’s all over your face. You’re totally into her.”

“Of course I’m into her. I wouldn’t be here with her if I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re really into her,” Lowell says.

“Maybe even in love,” Rhodes adds.

Me? In love with Harper?

No. Not a chance.

“It’s casual,” I say for what feels like the millionth time.

“That’s what they all say.” Lowell sighs. “Then one day they’re madly in love and shopping for a ring.”

“Then planning a wedding and picking out names for a baby.”

Harper and Ryan put their heads together, and Miller takes his chance to slink away by literally sliding to the floor and crawling from their view.

Neither of the girls notice. They’re too busy whispering about something. Harper points my way and Ryan looks over. She grins, then humps the air repeatedly and says something that makes her friend blush.

Harper looks exasperated and shakes her head, but even from here I can see the hint of desire pulling at her features.

Whatever Ryan said, Harper doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.

And whatever it is, I don’t think it is either.

I cannot wait to get her back to my place and show her just how much I missed her over the last few days. I have half a mind to march over there, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her out of the party right now.

“There’s that face again,” Lowell comments.

I feel my face pull into a scowl. “I am not in love with her.”

“Methinks the dick doth protest too much,” Rhodes mocks.

“Yes, yes. There has been a disturbance in the Force for sure.”

“You two are fuckin’ nerds.”

They don’t disagree with me.

“It’s not love,” I insist. “We’re just fooling around. Nothing serious. It’s for the team.”

They both lean around me, looking at one another.

Lowell’s hand lands on my shoulder. “Right.”

“Sure thing there, bud.” Rhodes pats my other side.

“I fucking hate you both,” I mutter, shaking them off.

The girls make their way back over to me, a soft grin playing at the edges of Harper’s lips as they approach.

“Heard you’re taking my friend home,” Ryan says to me. “You gonna bring her back walking crooked again?”

“Ryan!” Harper chides like I’m sure she’s done a hundred times before.

“That’s the plan.”

“Collin! Oh my god.” Harper hides her face in her hands.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” Ryan turns her attention to Lowell. “I heard there’s a poker tournament in the basement. Wanna go hustle some chumps with me?”

“Fucking hell. Are they gambling again?”

“Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you,” I say to him.

“Shit.” He runs a hand down his face. “Last time they did this, a brawl broke out and we ended up with two players injured. I think somebody still owes someone else money too. Coach was pissed.”

“So is that a yes on the hustling, then?”

“Eh.” Lowell shrugs. “Why not? If they’re going to get me in trouble, might as well take their money and make it worth it.”

He holds his arm out to her, and she hooks her hand around it.

“Text me all the dirty details,” she says to Harper.

Rhodes watches them leave, his perpetual sullen stare even more pronounced as they disappear into the crowd.

“I’m heading out,” he announces. “Don’t text me the dirty details.” Then he rakes his eyes over Harper. “Or maybe do.”

I step toward him, snarling in warning.

He laughs, shaking his head as he backs away. “Told you so.”

“What’d he tell you?” Harper asks once he’s gone.

“It’s nothing.” I hold my hand out to her. “Come on. I’m suddenly starving too.”

The way her eyes flare tells me she knows exactly what I mean.