Devious Obsession: A Dark Hockey Romance (Hockey Gods)

“What happened with your mom?” I spin the gorgeous ring around my finger, then pause to stare at it again. Then focus back on Steele. My mind has been a freaking ping-pong ball since we left the assisted-living home.

And now we’ve got about an hour’s drive.

“Early onset dementia. They discovered it when I was in high school.”

Steele glances at me, then holds out his hand. I put mine in his, eager for the contact. As much as I might need grounding, he probably needs it more. So I lace our fingers together and squeeze softly, letting him take my hand back onto his thigh.

“Mom was still… with it, you know? She knew us, our faces. But it was other things that were slipping. And for a while, she went through some dramatic mood changes. Screaming at my dad, flipping us off. She’d have meltdowns or violent outbursts randomly, set off by things that felt huge to her but really weren’t. It was a lot to deal with.” His jaw clenches, the muscle ticcing. “When she had a day or two of clarity, she and my father both recognized that this couldn’t be good for our family long-term. So Dad put Mom in the assisted-living place. She toured it, of course, and agreed to it… And then, a few months later, Dad told me that they were getting divorced.”

I gasp.

“Just like that?”

Steele shrugs. “I don’t know. He never told me much about it—just that they both decided it wouldn’t be fair to him if she was…” His jaw works again. “An empty shell.”

“She’s not an empty shell.” I hold his hand tighter.

“It doesn’t matter. It was done. Dad pays for everything anyway. He promised to give her the best life he could, and… I mean, she stays in a pretty nice place. She never says anything bad about the other residents or the nurses.”

“Thank you for introducing us,” I whisper. I unbuckle my seat belt and shift onto my knee, leaning over the center console to kiss his cheek.

He smirks. “You’re not going to be thanking me when I tell you where we’re headed next…”

“And here I was about to blow you…” I reach down and brush my finger over his zipper. “So maybe you’ll just take me to bed instead of whatever evil plan you’ve made.”

Steele groans, his cock stiffening under his slacks in record time. “You’ve done it now.”

“So… home?”

I undo the button and drag the zipper down, navigating him out of his pants. His cock springs up, already hard for me. I don’t wait for him to answer, just licking my lips and descending on him. He hits the back of my throat, and I pull back slightly, inhaling through my nose.

His hand comes down on the back of my head, pushing me back down. He’s muttering above me. The whine of the engine goes harder, his thigh flexing as he steps on the gas. It feels dangerous and a little nuts—no pun intended—to be doing this.

But I love the rush of adrenaline that comes with the risk.

He controls my pace, choking me on his dick and then letting me breathe and suck and lick at his tip. Then back down. I hold on to his hip with my left hand, and his thigh with my other. Balancing myself.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns on another groan.

I fucking love the noises he makes.

I lock my lips around his head and run my tongue over his slit. My hand curls around his base, pumping and twisting.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls above me.

The car swerves ever so slightly, and suddenly my mouth is flooded. I swallow hard, sucking and pumping him. There’s another jet of cum, and he lets out a shaky exhale. The taste of him lingers on my tongue, and I sit up. I wipe my chin with the back of my hand. I glance at the road, checking that we’re not in danger of crashing into anything or going around a sharp curve, then drag his face toward mine. Our open mouths smash together, our tongues sliding and fighting for space.

I release him after a second and fall back in my seat, laughing.

“Holy shit.” He shakes his head. “You’re just as crazy as me.”

I eye him. His combed hair, which needs some messing. The dark-purple dress shirt tucked into his black pants—which I now realize he somehow perfectly matched to my dress.

“So, home?” I ask lightly.

He shakes his head. “Not a chance.”

“Where, then?”

“Well, first… we’re making a pit stop. But then, we’re going to a party.”

Uh-huh.

“Buckle,” he orders.

“Yes, sir,” I grumble. But really, no complaints here. I did my big risky move—I don’t need to keep asking fate to wreck us.

We drive for another twenty minutes. Music plays, distracting both of us from conversation. He’s been inching his hand up my thigh for the last fifteen, and his pinky finally grazes the edge of my panties.

I keep staring out the window as he slips his finger under the thin fabric.

“You’re wet,” he says.

“Hmm?” I pretend to notice him for the first time.

He chuckles and withdraws, licking his pinky finger.

My face heats. Even now, it makes me squirm. After everything we’ve done…

He flicks his blinker on and takes the exit into a rest area. It’s one of the smaller ones, with just a gas station and convenience store attached. The rest area backs up to dense woods, and Steele aims for the tree line. He parks far away from anyone else, then unbuckles.

I do the same.

“Take off your panties,” he orders in a quiet voice.

I lift my hips and drag them down, pulling them off over my shoes. He takes them and hooks them on the gear stick to the right of the steering wheel.

“Now put your back to the door.”

A shiver goes through me as I do, twisting my upper body. He grabs my left leg and guides it over the console, spreading my thighs. My dress falls between my legs, hiding my pussy from him. Not that it will deter him. He drags my ass across my seat, getting me closer, and shoves my dress up to my ribs.

“I’ll never get over this tattoo,” he admits. He checks his watch and grimaces. “We’re going to have to be fast. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

I open my mouth to reply, but he’s already leaning down to kiss my lips. My other lips. And what comes out of my mouth instead of words is some nonsense sigh.

He wastes no time, going directly to my clit. I gasp and buck when he tongues my sensitive bud. All of his focus is right there.

His grip on my thighs keeps my legs spread wide. He growls and laps at me, then sucks it into his mouth. Hard.

I tip my head back, hitting it on the window, and cry out. My hips won’t stop moving, not that he gives a shit. In fact, the more forcefully I try to press my pussy into his face, the harder he treats my clit. Until he scrapes it with his teeth and flicks just the tip of it with his tongue—and I fucking shatter.

I scream his name, digging my nails into the seat. He continues to lick me, going down farther and plunging his tongue inside me. Absorbing the way my muscles immediately clench at him. It pushes my pleasure on and on, a rolling wave of bliss, until I’ve completely sagged backward.

“Wow,” I murmur.

He smirks at me, picking up my leg by my ankle and pressing a kiss to it. Then he puts it back where it belongs and restarts the car. He tugs the front of my dress down, covering me before he pulls back out onto the highway.

I can’t even move for a long moment.

We’ve gone maybe ten minutes before I sit up and snag my panties, where they’re still hanging from his gear stick. He chuckles, glancing at me while I wriggle them back in place. Then fixing my dress in the back, too.

Jeez.

And then I realize where we’re going.

The restaurant on the point.

I eye Steele, who just smiles at me.

“What?” he questions. Sounding way too innocent for the shit-eating grin that’s overtaking his face.

I scoff and climb out of the car. Quick hair and makeup check in my reflection, confirming that the blow job tears didn’t ruin my eyeliner, and his hand on the back of my head didn’t cause unnecessary sex hair, and then I’m ready. I loop my arm in his and let him lead me inside.

We go through the main dining room and into the room we ate lunch in that day… the day when everything went to shit. My footsteps automatically slow, and Steele glances down at me.

“Don’t chicken out on me now, little viper.”

The nickname gives me a modicum of resolve. I throw back my shoulders and march with him down the steps and around the corner.

To where our parents wait.

I slam to a halt.

While we’ve seen more of them, Steele and I have avoided seeing them together. As in, Mom will bring the girls to see me at school between classes, or we’ll go to a movie together, but Stephen and Steele don’t attend. Or Steele will go over their house and watch my sisters for an hour or two, but it’s always when I have class or practice.

The few times I’ve seen Steele’s dad has been awkward. I don’t know what to say to him. My dad told him Steele and I were intimate, and I don’t know if he’s just been choosing to ignore it or forgot—or thought it was a lie.

I drop Steele’s arm like it’s on fire, but he just laughs and puts that same arm around my shoulders.

“You’re not getting out of this one,” he says in my ear. “You think you can marry me and not tell your mother?”

I wince.

I mean… yeah, sure. He has a point. But I also was just hoping to avoid the whole messy situation by waiting until Steele was famous, we were graduated, and living in some fancy house in the city of our choosing before getting married.

Obviously, Steele wouldn’t want to wait that long—and I don’t think he believes in cowardice.

“Hi, honey,” Mom calls, circling around the table and hugging me.

It’s too similar to the last time we did this, just the four of us. When they threatened to lock me up…

“Aspen.” Stephen reaches to hug me, too. He wraps his arms around my shoulders.

I tense up.

He releases me quickly and steps back. Mom is just releasing Steele from her embrace, too, and we all take our seats. Me across from Mom, Steele on my left across from his father.

Steele picks up my hand by my fingers and sets them both on the table. Showing off the glittering diamond on my finger.

“Aspen and I are getting married,” Steele announces.

Neither of them look fucking surprised.

I narrow my eyes at my mom, and she has the good grace to look guilty.

“Well. Your uncle may have been, um, keeping tabs on you. For me,” she adds. “Not that we didn’t trust you, Steele, but… well.”

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous.

It’s so ridiculous, it’s almost funny.

No, actually, it is fucking funny. I cover my mouth to try and hide my giggle. But as soon as the first one slips out, the whole dam breaks. And suddenly I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe. Tears fill my eyes, and I snort. Then laugh harder.

Steele is laughing, too.

Because we started this train wreck of a relationship with spying. Steele’s dad asking me to look after his son, and the vitriol that followed. Of course they wouldn’t trust us to follow through on that—they hardly trust us at all.

Eventually, my giggles subside. Steele still has a hold of my hand, although he releases it so I can snap out my napkin and dab at my eyes.

“You guys are messed up,” I tell them. “We’re adults.”

Stephen inclines his chin. “We just want what’s best for our children.”

“Yeah… but you don’t try to guide us into better decisions or trust us to tell you. You just watch from the sidelines until we fall on our asses. And then you try to punish us for it.” I eye Steele, deciding not to bring up the whole drugging thing. It’s water under the bridge between us, even if it might still be a sore spot between his father and me. And that counselor who I ditched. Whoops.

He’s nodding along. “Dad, you were so willing to dismiss Aspen after I sent you that video. But the whole thing was fake. I spiked her drink with a hallucinogenic and filmed it to discredit her. And you fell for it. Not only that, but you tried to get her to leave CPU and derailed her whole career… for what?”

I’m just surprised Steele admitted it. But maybe he’s willing to shed light on his own devious nature if it shows just how ineffective our parents’ meddling has been.

Shame fills Stephen’s expression, and his attention flips from Steele to me. “My son is right. I used you as a tool, Aspen, and I’m sorry for that. The night with your father proved just how badly I was fucking things up between us. I shouldn’t have done that—and I’ll rectify it immediately.”

“No need,” Steele murmurs. “I took care of it. I love Aspen. I knew her before I found out she was the daughter of the woman you married. I knew we were going to be together when I first laid eyes on her. That’s why we went to Mom, and she gave us her ring.”

For the first time, Stephen goes completely still. His gaze lands on the ring, and his lips flatten. There’s a second where I think he might go toward anger, but instead… his whole face softens.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he says to his son. “And for the record, I support your decision to pursue hockey as a career. I don’t know if I understand it, exactly. It’s still a violent sport. But you’re good at it, and you seem happy. That’s what should’ve been most important to me all along.”

Oh, great. Today just seems to be the day for tears, because my vision goes blurry for the thousandth time.

“I’m sure your mother would say the same,” he adds.

And I’m crying.

Steele wordlessly pulls me onto his lap. I automatically tuck my face in his neck, and he strokes my hair.

“She’s had a long day,” he offers as way of explanation. He tells them about my second audition. And how his mother was today—because I guess some days are worse than others, and we got a good one.

I stay there until our food is ordered. Then, shyly, I slip off his lap and clean myself up in the ladies’ room. By the time I’m done, most of my makeup is gone. But you know what?

Good riddance.

I rejoin them and smile at my mother, who smiles back at me. She’s holding hands with Stephen, much the way Steele held my hand on the table. She looks happy and relaxed. Steele leans over and kisses my cheek, and neither of our parents bat an eye.

I got so used to worrying and fearing for all of us that this relief feels almost strange.

But I never want to let it go.