Right Man, Right Time

In case you were wondering, there was no recovering from “Oye, my dick.”

The text messages ran cold after that, and any chance we had at a nude pic vanished. Not that I wanted one. In a weird way, Posey did me a favor by writing “Oye, my dick” because I wanted to drive her away, and that about did it.

Now that I’m walking into my apartment, knowing she’s here working out, I’m dreading every second of seeing her. She’ll definitely give me shit for killing the buzz. But at least I’m not walking in here to a sexually charged Ollie, ready to pounce. Nope, she’s probably as dry as the fucking Sahara Desert after oye, my dick. I think everyone is dry after that.

Not to mention, I can’t get the feeling of my penis on Posey’s knee out of my head.

I’m all sorts of fucked up, and I know the one thing that I need is some peace. And the place I find most peace is in the sauna.

After setting my bag and keys down in the entryway, I head to my bedroom, where I strip out of my clothes and wrap a towel around my waist. My mind immediately flashes to my penis and Posey’s knee, and I mentally curse my disturbed brain.

I go to charge my phone just as a text lights up the screen. Wondering if it’s Ollie, I click on it but see that it’s Hornsby.

Hornsby: I gave it an hour, but I can’t fucking take it any longer . . . Taters and Posey were wrestling naked together, and I walked in on it. Taters’s penis was on Posey’s knee, and they both liked it.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a few deep breaths. My phone dings, and I mentally prepare for what’s to come.

Pacey: Uh . . . what?

Holmes: Like . . . they were both naked?

Posey: NO! Taters was naked. I was respectful enough to put on underwears.

Taters: I was about to put on my briefs. Also, only a child calls it underwears, you nitwit.

Posey: Do you really want to call me names after what we went through together . . .

Pacey: It seems like there’s meaning behind those ellipses.

Hornsby: There was meaning throbbing between the two of them on the ground.

Taters: Fuck off, there was no throbbing.

Posey: The eggplants beg to differ.

Pacey: What eggplants? Your eggplants?

Holmes: I’m really fucking confused.

Hornsby: I believe they were in the midst of a sexual tryst.

Taters: For the love of God.

Posey: HA! Taters wishes. He couldn’t handle me.

Hornsby: Seems like he handled you just fine . . . owning you with his penis on your knee.

Posey: I will admit to the group, I thought his penis felt nice. Honestly, it’s made me look at bologna in a different light.

Holmes: I can usually handle these text chains, but sorry, I’m out.

Pacey: Levi, I think you need help.

Hornsby: I keep hearing skin slapping together.

Taters: There was no fucking slapping!

Posey: Why do I hear it too?

Taters: That’s it. I’m out too.

I set my phone down and leave it on my nightstand as I exit my bedroom.

Sauna, that’s what I need. I need the fucking sauna to clear my mind.

I glance through the window on the gym door, and when I see that Ollie isn’t there, I heave a sigh of relief. Looks like oye, my dick really did scare her off. Pleased and also humiliated, I walk into the gym and head straight for the sauna, where I turn it on. I consider removing my towel but then think better of it, just in case Ollie shows up.

I take a seat and stretch my arms across the upper bench as the heat starts to seep into my skin.

This is exactly what I needed.

I shut my eyes, let out a deep breath, and then sink into my seat just as the door opens.

Fuck . . .

“Funny finding you here,” Ollie says.

I slowly open my eyes and see her standing in front of me, a fresh soap smell coming off her, wrapped in a towel.

“Uh . . . hey,” I say. “Get your, uh, workout in?”

“I did. And I took a shower but then thought, you know, I would love some sauna time.”

“Well, if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re exactly who I want in here.” And then, she lets her towel loose, and it falls to her feet.

Hell . . .

Looks like oye, my dick didn’t scare her at all.

My mouth goes dry from the sight of her—naked, gorgeous, and so fucking perfect in every goddamn way. I’m useless. Completely and utterly useless as she walks up to me, leans forward, and presses a light kiss to my lips.

“Mmm, I missed these lips,” she says as her hand touches my thigh. “And I missed the way you smell.” She draws her hand inward. “And I missed the way it feels when you possess me with your voice.” Her hand strokes along my bulge.

“Ollie,” I groan.

“Tell me you don’t like that,” she says as she palms me.

Involuntarily, my legs slightly part.

“Making more room for me?” she asks as her thumb glides over my stiffening cock.

“Ollie . . . I . . .” Fuck, I can’t think when she’s stroking me over the towel like that.

“You what?” she asks as she rests one knee on the bench and brings her breasts up to my mouth. My lips part, and she gently places one of her nipples right on my lower lip.

I suck her in.

“Silas,” she moans. “I love your mouth.” She lifts up and brings her other leg to the bench, where she straddles my lap.

Immediately, my hands fall to her hips, where I keep her firmly in place.

“Tell me you love my tits.”

I nibble on her nipple for one second only to remind myself not to give in. But . . . fuck, they’re so perfect. “I love them,” I admit.

“Good,” she says as her hands fall to my shoulders, and she starts to lightly rock her hips over my lap.

Too good. Feels too fucking good.

My head falls back as I ask, “What are you doing?” It’s a stupid question because I know exactly what she’s doing.

“I’m not messing around anymore,” she says as her hands climb up my pecs, her nails digging into my skin. “I’m voiding the contract. I don’t want you as pretend anymore.” She brings her hand to the back of my head and rubs her nipple along my lips. I part them and suck in the hard nub again. “I want you for real, as mine. I’m claiming you.”

Claiming me.

It triggers this overwhelming need within me to be claimed. Something I desperately want. Something I realize suddenly . . . Sarah never did.

My hands float up her sides until I reach both of her breasts. I palm them and squeeze, causing her to hiss. “I’m not mentally ready for you,” I say, speaking the fucking truth. I might want her, I might want to be claimed by her, but I don’t think I can give her everything she needs.

“Let me help you be ready, Silas.”

“I’m fucked up, Ollie.” I bring her other breast into my mouth as her hips pick up their pace. Faster, harder. I exhale sharply as her pelvis teases me.

Taunts me.

Pushes me to want more even though my brain tells me to stop.

“Aren’t we all a little fucked up?” she asks.

“I don’t trust people,” I groan out as I move my thumbs over her nipples.

“I’ll earn your trust.” She tips my head back and runs her tongue along my neck. “Let me be the one who takes care of you.” Her tongue runs along my lips right before she kisses me again. I go to kiss her back, but she pulls away, leaving me wanting more. Her lips pepper kisses down my neck.

To my chest.

She slides off my lap between my legs.

She continues to press kisses to my stomach, then lower . . .

Fuck me, I know what she wants. She’s made it really fucking clear, and I’m not sure I’m ready because the moment her lips touch my cock, I know I’ll be lost. There will be no stopping her.

What am I talking about? There’s no stopping her now as her hands slide up my thighs to the knot of my towel. Her hungry eyes glance up at me as her fingers toy with the knot. My breath is heavy in my chest as I curl my hands into fists in anticipation. When I don’t stop her on the first tug, she smiles and parts my towel completely, letting my stiff cock stretch up my stomach.

Her eyes widen right before she wets her lips.

“Oh . . . my . . . God,” she whispers as her fingers trail along my Jacob’s ladder piercing. “I knew it.” Her eyes are in awe as she moves her head closer. “I knew you would have the most perfect penis I’ve ever seen.” And then, in one fell swoop, she licks from the base of my balls all the way up to the tip.

My stomach bottoms out from the onslaught of her delicious mouth, and a low moan falls past my lips. “Fuuuuck.”

Satisfied with herself, she spreads my legs wider and tugs me closer to the edge as she opens her mouth and draws me in, all the way back to her throat.

“Jesus.” Feels so fucking good.

Warm.

Wet.

Tight.

So good I can’t stop her.

She could do whatever she wanted at this point.

One of her hands wiggles between my legs, just below my balls, where she cups them and gently rubs her thumb between them while her other hand squeezes the base of my cock.

“God, Silas. I could suck you all fucking day.” She takes me deep again, pulls up, then dips down over and over.

She doesn’t gag.

She doesn’t even make a noise.

She just continues to make me lose my mind, one pulse after the other, and when I feel myself start to climb, she lifts to only the tip where she sucks but pumps the base with her hand.

“Fucking hell, Ollie. Your mouth is making me crazy.”

Her teeth line the edge of my tip, and I hiss right before she laps at me with her tongue, then takes me to the back of her throat.

My hand floats to her hair, gripping it tightly because I have nothing else to grab. As she pumps up and down, making my balls tighten, I know that after this, nothing will be the same.

Her mouth is sinful.

Her hands are immoral.

I’ve never in my life had someone suck me like she does, and it’s evident in the way that my chest hitches, attempting to find air. And by how I’m desperate to hold on to anything as I feel my body tremble, tingle, and prepare for what’s to come.

She brings me to the back of her throat, then presses her lips around the head and sucks so goddamn hard that my pelvis flies off the wood seat of the sauna.

“Baby,” I groan as my body tightens and my cock swells in her mouth. “I’m going to come.”

Her mouth pulls off my cock, and I gasp in frustration. Her smile nearly makes me scream in a demand to have her finish what she started. She swirls her tongue around each one of my piercings until she reaches the tip again, sucks hard, pulling me to the edge. She deep-throats me again, and I explode.

My hand tightens in her hair. “Fuck. Your mouth . . . so . . . hot.” And with that, I come down the back of her throat. She continues to suck me until I’m completely sated and resting against the back of the sauna, unable to move.

“Delicious,” she says as she moves up my body, trailing kisses.

Bringing her body to a stand, she sets her foot on my seat and then props one of her legs on the bench behind me, bringing her soaking pussy right up to my mouth.

So fucking hot. She knows just what she wants, and she doesn’t mind asking.

I glance up at her, and from where I’m sitting, I can see that she’s in need of relief as well, so I slide my hand to the back of her ass, pulling her in closer, and press my tongue to her clit where I swipe long strokes, flattening my tongue so I reach every inch of her.

“I’m already so close,” she says. “I love your cock, Silas. I want to suck it again.”

That makes my tongue flick faster, more persistent. I want to make her come hard and fast.

Her hand falls to my head, and her fingers dig into my scalp, just like last night. Her tits bounce above me, her legs shake next to me, and her lungs search for air, just like mine.

“Silas,” she gasps. “I’m close.”

I bring two fingers to her entrance and curve them up inside her, causing her back to arch and for her to nearly lose her balance, but I catch her by the ass and stabilize her as I scoop my fingers and flick her clit.

“Oh . . . God . . . oh fuck. Silas!” she yells right before her body shivers, and a feral moan falls past her lips as she rides my fingers and tongue, pulling out every ounce of pleasure from her orgasm until she’s completely done.

Watching her orgasm will never get old. Ever.

I remove my fingers, and with her eyes set on mine, I suck on them. Her heady eyes fall shut briefly as she lowers her leg and then carefully lowers herself to the ground.

Hand to her chest, eyes on me, she drifts backward to the wall of the sauna, putting just enough distance between us that I’d have to get up to pull her back onto my lap.

Skin red.

Sweat dripping down her chest.

Her eyes are wild as they scan me, taking me all in.

And as she heaves, staring me down, I know she’s feeling the same thing as I am. That was unlike anything we’d ever experienced.

I don’t know if it freaks her out, but it creates a tsunami of concern in my head, and I can feel my brow crease as I think about how easily I could get attached to her and how easily she could break me.

She takes a few deep breaths, studying me, and then without a word, she bends down, picks up her towel, and wraps it around her body. With one final look, she opens the door and disappears.

What did I just do?

“SO . . .” Posey says as he comes up to me in the training room where I’m warming up my legs and rolling them out on a foam roller.

“So what?” I ask, grumpy as shit.

Why am I grumpy? Because yesterday, I had my cock sucked so hard I’m pretty sure I don’t even remember my whole name. I realized that even though I want to control myself around Ollie, I can’t seem to keep my distance. I’m scared. I’m unsure. And the one person I want to talk to is the person I’m terrified of.

Not to mention, I haven’t heard from her since she left the sauna.

Not one goddamn word.

“How did yesterday end?”

“I’m not talking about this,” I say.

Posey startles me as he sits next to me and leans in so close that I can smell his freshly applied deodorant. “It ended well, didn’t it?”

“No.” I push at him, but he remains unmoved.

“Liar.” He smiles. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you’ve had sex.” He pokes my cheek, and I swat his hand away. “You had sex.”

“Can you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“It was my texting, wasn’t it?” He puffs his chest and cracks his fingers. “I’ve still got it.”

“I didn’t have sex,” I say quietly and then whisper, “She just . . . sucked me in the sauna.”

“Sucked you in the sauna.” Posey shakes his head in mirth. “That is a title of a porn waiting to happen. Was it good?”

“Of course it was fucking good,” I say. “I’m obsessed with the girl and everything about her.”

“So why so grumpy?”

“Because I haven’t talked to her since. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m fucking terrified, and—”

“There you boys are,” Sarah says as she walks through the doors of the training room. “I have a few things for you to sign that we’re giving to important sponsors. You’re the two I’m missing.”

Of course she takes this moment to walk in here. This is the luck of my goddamn life. Teeth clenched, I avoid the low cut of her shirt and how she’s purposely bending in front of me.

But the thing is . . . her appearance, her need to show off her tits, it does nothing for me. Absolutely nothing. The only emotion I feel when she’s in the same room as me is anger.

Because of her, I don’t trust people.

Because of her, I can’t be the person I need to be for Ollie.

Which, in return, makes me despise her.

She hands me the pictures and a Sharpie, and while offering her the cold shoulder, I sign them.

“You were great the other night,” she says, clearly not getting the hint. “I loved seeing you out on the ice again.”

I cap the marker and toss it to Posey, who signs the pictures as well.

“Are you not going to say anything about my shirt?” she asks, and when I look up, I see that she’s wearing a shirt with my name and number.

“Why are you wearing that?” I ask.

A confused expression crosses her face. “Because I’m your number one fan.”

It’s comical how clueless she is.

“If you were my number one fan, you wouldn’t have fucked other people when I was away. For months.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.

It’s the first time I’ve truly acknowledged what she did to me.

And I know it’s the first time Posey is hearing it.

“Silas,” she says quietly.

I take the pictures from Posey and shove them at her. “They’re signed. Now leave.”

To her credit, she backs away slowly and then turns around to leave. Instead of my eyes falling to her retreating ass like they used to when we were dating, I go back to my foam roller, feeling Posey’s eyes on me.

“Don’t, man,” I say, swallowing hard.

“I won’t,” he replies, understanding completely.

“And please . . . please don’t say anything to anyone.”

He grips my shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me, man. Promise.”

SECOND GAME DONE. We brought home the win, and luckily, despite my personal life, I was able to forget it all when I was out on the ice. Scored a goal and had an assist. I’ve been known to bring my personal grievances into a game, but I just felt numb this go-around.

So fucking numb.

Like nothing from the outside world could penetrate me. Nothing.

Not Sarah.

Not Ollie.

Nothing.

But now that I’m driving home, all I can think about is how I want to see Ollie. How I want to talk to her about . . . everything. I want to know where her head is at. And I know I won’t be able to get any sleep if I don’t talk to her.

I drive over to her dorm, and instead of going up to her place, I park my car and grab my phone to shoot her a text.

Silas: Hey, I’m outside your place.

I let out a long sigh as I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering how the fuck I got here.

The plan I laid out for myself two years ago didn’t have me sitting in a college dorm parking lot, pining after a girl I know I shouldn’t while dodging my ex. My plan was to marry Sarah. To have kids. To buy a house and win some more goddamn championships. But for the past two years, it’s felt as though nothing fits. As though I’ve been drifting. Yes, I know Sarah’s infidelity has played a large part of that, but I should be fucking over it by now. And I am. Over Sarah. Even though I still feel angry. Does that ever go away? But now with Ollie in my life, it feels as though I’m almost grasping something really good, yet things are also falling apart, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just don’t understand it.

My phone dings with a response.

Ollie: I’m not there. Ross and I took off for the weekend.

What?

Fuck.

Silas: When do you get home?

Ollie: Late Sunday.

I rub my hand over my forehead and swear under my breath.

Silas: We leave for some away games on Sunday.

Ollie: Oh. Okay . . . well, do you need me?

Yes.

I need you here, so I can speak to you in person, so I can work out these tumultuous feelings buzzing inside me.

Silas: No, I guess not.

Ollie: Cool. Well good luck on the away trip.

I study her text, and I wonder what the fuck is going on. She’s acting like nothing happened between us over the past few weeks—like I’m a mere acquaintance—yet she was determined she wanted more. What, now she doesn’t? I don’t know how to handle that.

I consider asking Posey, but I think we all know how that went last time. I need to get this off my chest. I need to talk it through, and even though I don’t want to tell anyone else my issue, I know I probably don’t have a choice. Not if I want my head on straight for the game.

I pull out of the parking lot and head for Pacey’s place.

“ARE you fucking kidding me right now?” Pacey asks as he stands in his doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

I know exactly what he was planning on doing. It’s what we all like to do after a game, when the adrenaline is still coursing through us. And I interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, man. But I really need to talk.”

He must notice the slump in my shoulders and the defeat in my voice because his harsh expression softens, and he lets me in.

I kick off my shoes, and just as I look up, Winnie appears in a robe, her hair slightly messy.

Hell, I really did interrupt them.

“Sorry, Winnie,” I say. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “What’s going on?”

I pull on the back of my neck. “I need some advice.”

“Okay, sure. Do you want me to get you a drink?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Well then, come sit down.”

We all take a seat in their living room. Winnie sits on Pacey’s lap, and he loops his arm around her like the happy little couple that they are.

“What’s going on?” Pacey asks. “Everything okay with Ollie?”

“Not really,” I say and let out a deep breath. “Uh . . . Ollie and I aren’t really together.”

“What are you talking about?” Winnie asks.

“It was all fake. We met at a bar. She needed me, and I needed her, so we formed an agreement. Since Sarah started working at the Agitators, I thought it would be easier to pretend I was with someone than have you fuckers constantly ask how I’m doing, or have Sarah assume she could get back together with me.”

“Jesus,” Pacey mutters.

“Anyway, as you probably can see what’s coming, I developed feelings for Ollie, and she developed feelings for me.”

“Well, that’s a good thing,” Winnie says with a bright smile.

“It is when you have your head on straight. Unfortunately, that’s not me, and I’ve been pushing her away. I’m just so fucked up from Sarah that I haven’t been able to get over the feeling of distrust. All Ollie wants is for me to give her a piece of me, and I haven’t been able to. And now . . . well, I think she’s pulling away. She took off for the weekend, and I won’t see her until we get back from our away trip. I feel like that’s too goddamn long, and I don’t know what to fucking do.”

Pacey nods. “You like her, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “And I fucking shouldn’t. I mean, Jesus Christ, she’s still in college. We’re clearly in completely different phases of our life, but I can’t stop thinking about her. I want so much more when I’m around her, but my brain won’t let me. It’s like there’s a mental block up there.”

“Maybe because you never talked about what happened with Sarah,” Pacey says quietly. “And I’m not asking you to tell us, but dude, how can you move on if you’ve never dealt with what put you in this headspace to begin with?”

“He’s right,” Winnie says softly. “It’s not easy moving on from any kind of heartbreak, especially if you keep it inside you and never let it free.”

“I know this, yet I’m so fucked up that I can’t seem to get myself to talk about it.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to be judged?” Pacey asks.

“Maybe. I also don’t want to revisit it. I mean, fuck, Pacey, I was going to propose to her.”

“I know, man,” he says. “But it might be good to get it off your chest.”

“Have you told Ollie everything that happened?” Winnie asks.

I shake my head. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“Maybe you should tell her,” Winnie suggests.

“That would mean that I’m committing myself to her.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Pacey asks.

“I mean, I want her, but I . . .” I swallow hard. “I just don’t think I’m good enough. I don’t think I’ll be what she needs. And then what? I end up in the same position I’m in now? And she’s going places. She has a future in front of her. I’m not going to thwart that with the restrictions of hockey life.”

“Who says it needs to be thwarted?” Winnie asks. “I do my own thing, and I’m still able to be with Pacey and work on our relationship. We might have ups and downs, but we still make time for each other. Our schedule might revolve around hockey, but our life doesn’t.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Let me ask you this,” Pacey says. “How would you feel if you called her up tonight and ended things with her? Just called it all off.”

I consider the idea. No more visits to her dorm. No more teasing. No more of her sweet, mind-melting kisses. No more witty text messages.

“Like shit,” I answer.

“Then there’s your answer. You might be scared, doubtful, and not ready, but you’re also not ready to let her go. What’s going to be more fulfilling? Navigating through a new relationship together? Or suffering apart?”

He makes sense. I’d rather be with her.

“But what happens when I tell her about Sarah, and she doesn’t want to be with me? I don’t think I could take it.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Winnie says.

“How do you know?” I ask.

“Because I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I saw how she reacted when you kissed her outside the locker room. I’m honestly shocked that you said you’ve been faking it because nothing about her reactions around you is fake. That girl likes you . . . a lot, Silas, and I think she’s ready to be there for you in any capacity. She’s not going to scare easily.”

“You really think so?” I ask, feeling so insecure that I actually hate myself for it.

“Yes, I really think so,” she answers, then leans forward and places her hand on my knee. “You’re a good man, Silas. A caring, thoughtful, protective, loyal man and you shouldn’t be living in Sarah’s shadow any longer. Don’t let her take away a good thing in your life. Because if you don’t go after Ollie . . . Sarah wins.”