Breakaway (Beyond the Play #2)

by Grace Reilly

I don’t know what happened to Penny to get her to this place, but I don’t want to have to break her heart. “Don’t do it like this, Penny. Find a nice guy to take you out.” She gives me a light shove. “Thanks for the unsolicited advice, but if it’s not you, I’m sure I’ll find better matches than Alfred.”

Whenever he called me Red, my pussy literally throbbed. And so, instead of doing the smart thing, the moment I was alone, I took out Igor and fucked myself with it. I didn’t even pretend to conjure up a fantasy; I just replayed what we did in the closet together, and when I ran through that, I imagined what it would be like to go down The List with him.

I didn’t stop until I came three times, trembling and sweating, and now, in the light of day, I know I should muster up some regret, or at the very least embarrassment, but I can’t. Cooper is in a class all his own, and nothing made that realization starker than seeing him in the same room as Alfred.

“No,” I say. “That’s unfair and you know it. How many of your guys went out to celebrate the win last night? If that’s fine for them but terrible for me, you’re no better than Preston’s parents and everyone else.”

He’s not as bad as Traci Biller, because as far as I know, he’s never called me a “manipulative slut,” but I couldn’t help letting the words slip out. I hate when he brings up my past, especially since I’ve tried so hard to move on. He keeps telling me he knows I’ve changed, but how can I believe him when things like this happen?

Going to parties and getting drunk, blowing off school and my training to hang out with Preston and his friends, acting like nothing mattered—it was better than coming home to an empty house because Dad slept in his office yet again. I paid the price for it, in the end, and I guess in some ways I’m still paying it.

I offered him sex—repeated sex, no strings attached—and he turned me down. What’s wrong with me that I couldn’t entice a guy whose middle name is practically “casual” to agree to that? It’s pathetic.

“Besides, it’s not like he’d ever date me. He doesn’t even want to fuck me again.” “So? That probably stung, Pen. I mean, good for you for being clear about what you want, but you can’t blame him if he’s a little hurt. Guys are always defensive when they feel slighted.”

“If he doesn’t want to be a living sex toy, you can’t blame him.” “That’s not what I said,” I mutter. “Besides, I didn’t want to use him, he’d get something out of it too. He plays better when he’s getting regular sex, and he needs to perform well if my dad is going to make him captain.”

“He doesn’t want to say yes because he thinks you’re too good for it. He’s not annoyed, Pen, he’s being protective.” I snort. “What?” “He’s protecting you from him. He doesn’t want to be the big bad wolf sullying Little Red Riding Hood.”

The seconds trickle down, and before we can try to go for the goal again, the period ends. I shake my head, wiping my sleeve across my face. Whatever boost I had during yesterday’s game has completely dissipated. I need to regain my focus for one more period. Not just to wrestle the game back, but to keep everyone’s energy high.

My play on the ice matters, but an excellent captain doesn’t just lead by example. He inspires the guys to give their all, too. If I come into the locker room full of frustration, it will influence other guys on the team, especially the freshmen. The clearer we are mentally, the better we’ll play.

When we come back out of the tunnel, Coach Ryder is standing off to the side—with his daughter. I freeze in place, nearly colliding with Remmy. Coach has his arm around Penny, who’s wearing a purple McKee knit cap with a pom-pom on top. My mouth feels parched, suddenly.

The royal purple looks good with her hair, and the pom-pom adds an almost unspeakable level of cuteness. Until now, I’ve tried to keep her out of my mind, but now every second of last night comes flooding back.

“Thanks, Dad,” Penny is saying. “Sorry, I just couldn’t wait until the end of the game.” “I’m just glad you’re finally here,” he replies.

He gestures for me to come over. “Callahan, look who joined us for the game.” “Hi,” I say. “Um, that’s cool.” “Penny is confident we’ll come back,” Coach says. “Right, bug?”

She attempts a wink, but it’s more like an exaggerated blink in my general direction. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Why that’s so endearing, I have no idea, but it makes...

“Score a goal for me, Callahan,” she says. She leans up and kisses her dad on the cheek—and then hugs me bef...

Coach must not notice that I’m as stunned as a bear with a tranquilizer in the ass, because he just claps my shoulder and says, “You heard her.” I manage a smile that I’m hoping looks ...

And throughout it all, I’m aware of one thing. Penny. I don’t even know how I didn’t notice her before this, because now that I know she’s here, she’s the only person in the stands that I see. She’s cheering and clapping and shooting to her feet to yell whenever the whistle blows.

If there was any doubt that she’s Coach Ryder’s daughter—and knows her hockey—that’s laid to rest five minutes into the period. She’s sitting with a couple of friends across from the benches, so whenever I get a breather, my gaze goes right to her.

Penny is waiting, like I’d hoped she would be, her hands tucked into her pockets as she leans against the wall. I glance around to make sure her dad isn’t anywhere near us before tugging her into an alcove. When she hugs me again, I smell lavender. She steps back, adjusting her hat as she smiles at me.

“Two hugs, Red? I’m starting to think you like me.” There’s a determined sort of gleam in her eyes. It’s like last night all over again, and like last night, my body can’t help but react.

There’s nothing especially sexy about her outfit, and I’m sore as all hell from the game and should get myself into an ice bath, but my cock is twitching with interest. Why did I say no to her pr...

“Look, if you don’t want me, just say so. I’ll get over it. But if you said no last night just because you want to protect me against whatever you think is going to happen, you’re not listening to me. I don’t want a relationship right now. I just want to explore a little.”

“Doesn’t matter. So, which is it? Was I really such a bad hookup?” The bark of laughter he lets out startles me. “Sweetheart, nothing about that was bad except the fact it had to end,” he says; there’s a low note in his voice that makes my belly quiver. “I’d have spent forever with you in that closet, dust bunnies and all.”

“Then take me through my list.” I lean closer, putting my hand on his thigh. His gaze darts down, taking in the gesture. I swallow my nerves and press my lips to his jaw. Near his mouth, but not quite close enough to count as a proper kiss. “Keep yourself relaxed and playing well with me. Let me be good for you.”

He fists his hand in my hair, pulling me into a kiss—the kind that leaves me breathless, my toes curling. He bites on my lower lip, dragging out the friction before pulling away. “Quid pro quo?”

“Friends.” I kiss him again; he fumbles for the seat control and shoves it back, giving me enough space to slide into his lap. “Friends who fuck.” “Dangerous,” ...

“You like it, don’t you?” “Can’t deny it.” He takes my hand in his, pressing it against the bulge in his jeans to emphasize his answer. He’s hard as a rock. I grin, pressing another kiss to...

His breath hitches, making my core clench. It feels good to know I can affect him too; that even though he has all the experience, I have m...

He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Okay,” he says. “Friends with benefits.” “Friends with an agenda...

He strokes across my bottom lip. I open my mouth, biting down on his thumb. First a closet, now a truck cab. It’s not a picture-perfect moment, but it’s exactly how I want it.

He grips my wrist, stilling my hand. When he speaks, his voice is rougher. I nearly tremble from the intensity of his gaze; even though I’m still bundled up, I feel exposed, like he just ripped my clothes off. “Back seat. I want to see your tits.”

“Fuck,” he breathes. He plucks at my hardened nipples through the lace, dragging a moan from my throat. “Such pretty little tits. I’ve been imagining these, Red.”

I lean into him, reaching out my hand to trace down his chest. He has a couple of tattoos—the detailed sword I noticed earlier, plus an artful rendering of a Celtic knot over his heart. I want to trace over the thick black lines with my tongue.

He continues to tease me through the fabric for a moment before he just pulls my tits out of the bralette, rather than taking it off; I moan as his big, rough hands each cup one and squeeze. He kisses me, running his tongue over mine. “Do your panties mat...

I unbutton my jeans and tug them down my thighs. He helps me get them off completely, so I’m sitting on the leather seat in a tiny, wet scrap of fabric. Dark blue this time. He rubs hi...

I gasp out a breath as I try to manage a flirtatious smile. “You said blue looked good on me.” “...

“You really want to blow me, gorgeous?” I rake my nails down his stomach. “Sh...

He pulls down his jeans and black boxer-briefs, freeing his cock. It looks even bigger than I remember, framed by neat, dark hair, the tip reddened and covered in pre-come. I lick my lips, which wrestles a groan from his chest; he ...

“Take off my panties,” I whisper. “They’re ruined already.” He drags them down my ass. “So needy,” he says. “Does the thought of tast...

The words tumble from my lips as I take his cock in hand, giving it the sensual stroke that I remember from last time. “Want to drink your come.” “Fuck.” He tugs on my hair until I slide down, so my face is right near his cock. “Explore a little, Red. Take your time.”

I mouth at the tip, shuddering as he scratches his nails over my scalp. Even the head feels big in my mouth, velvet-soft and tasting of salt. I lick away the pre-come, then move my tongue over the vein running down his cock. His hand tightens in my hair. “Good,” he says. “Keep going.”

I use my hand to steady the base as I move my mouth on him, alternating between kissing and licking. I flick my gaze upward; his eyes are half-shut, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallows. I accidentally get him with my teeth, and he...

“Use your lips more,” he murmurs as he pets my hair. “If you want to suck me, take me into your mouth nice and s...

I want that; I want to feel him in my throat. Even the thought has me pressing my thighs together, desperate for at least a little contact. The moment I get real friction, I know I’ll come. Our positions, his rough, quiet voice, the way he has my hair wrapped around his fist—it’s all coming toget...

I squeeze his balls gently; they’re tight and clearly aching because he groans. His hips jerk slightly, pushing the first inch of his cock into my mouth. I suck on it, relishing in the taste. He’s trembling ...

He could easily push right into my mouth and make me take it, but he’s holding back, letting me set the pace. I reward him by taking another inch, and then another, sucking lightly as I breathe through my nose. I ...

“Red,” he says, his voice breaking. I bob my head, moving slightly as I suck. He can’t help but push into my mouth more, but I take it the way I’ve always imagined I would, the way I’ve fantasized abo...