Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I can’t help it. I lift my head, peeking down at the ice to see if I can spot Brodie somewhere in the line, their sticks bent, touching the ice.
I sing. Bethany sings.
Not well, but we’re no Mariah Carey and Celine Dion.
A kid in front of us watches a cartoon on his tablet, not paying one bit of attention to the action in front of us—and probably won’t.
As the final strains of the anthem fade away, the energy in the arena reaches a fever pitch. The crowd’s anticipation is palpable. Tangible. A force that crackles in the air.
Players from both teams take their positions on the ice, their skates carving smooth arcs in the freshly Zamboni-ed surface. One player from each team skates to the center where the referees stand poised, the puck cradled in the palm of one hand.
The players line up on either side, eyes fixed on the puck with laser-like focus, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Like starving dogs ready to chase a bone…
Time stands still as we all wait for the puck to drop and the game to begin in earnest.
Then, with one swift motion, the referee drops the puck to the ice, releasing it from his grasp.
It hits the surface with a satisfying plunk, sending a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Players surge forward, their sticks flashing as they battle for possession of the puck.
The game was on.
With lightning speed, our team races across the ice, puck bouncing between them like a frenzied game of hot potato—a game I’m terrible at, by the way. It gives me too much anxiety…the kind of anxiety I already have watching these bodies collide, sticks clash—and the sound of skates scraping against the ice.
The sounds fill the air as the players fight for control.
And as the first period gets underway, the game's intensity only continues to escalate, each team vying for dominance in a battle of skill, strategy, and sheer determination.
I had no idea watching a guy ice skate would be such a turn on. Hot.
My eyes track Brodie's movements as he skates furiously over the ice as if he’s been doing it all his life, effortlessly. He’s fueled by adrenaline and a burning desire to win.
I know this.
This is the reason he’s so preoccupied and not easily distracted…
…By me.
I’m looking at this resolve in person.
I’m glad I’m here to see this for myself, this purpose. The concentration…reminds me of his face between my legs and his tongue inside me, determined to give me an orgasm.
“Whoa baby, is it getting hot in here?” I joke to Bethany, but she’s not paying attention to me. She’s jumping in her seat, screaming along with the rest of our section.
With each hard check and missed opportunity by the other team, the pressure mounts until it finally reaches a breaking point.
In a flash of fury, some guy wearing a number nine jersey pulls off his helmet, something I didn’t know they were allowed to do because OMG, how dangerous!
Jeez!
Tempers flare.
A scuffle erupts on the ice that doesn’t quite turn into a fight—but it’s close.
Two players I cannot identify exchange heated words before dropping their gloves and shouting with abandon.
“Yes!” Bethany shouts. “This is what I’m talking about!”
Dear lord.
She’s a bloodthirsty wench.
But she’s not the only one. The rest of the crowd erupts too, choruses of cheers and jeers and gasps as the referee’s break up the players; tension permeates the air.
They boo as referees rush in to break up the brawl, but their efforts are futile as the players continue to grapple, fists connecting with resounding thuds.
I watch in disbelief, heart pounding in my chest.
“This isn’t just a game anymore. This is a battle,” I shout to my roommate, who looks over at me and has the nerve to roll her eyes.
“Stop being so dramatic. This is part of the game.”
I pout, crossing my arms.
“Look at it this way. You can go next door tonight and play nurse.”
Oh.
Oohhhh, I love that idea.
Playing nurse.
Healing his wounds with touch and nakedness.
"There he is!" I exclaim, pointing excitedly as Brodie skates past, the bright blue letters on his jersey gleaming under the bright lights of the rink.
"Oh yeah!” Bethany claps. “There he is! There's our star player.” She claps some more, putting her hands in her mouth to let out the loudest whistle I’ve ever heard. “Get ready to swoon, Lizzy!"
He looks so damn hot out there.
So.
Damn.
Hot.
He’s hotter with his shirt off. Those thick thighs. Those wide shoulders. The broad back…
My heart swells with pride, and my vagina fills with tingles as I watch Brodie weave through the other players with skill and finesse.
With each powerful push, he propels himself forward, his large body leaning into the turns with practiced finesse. His arms move in perfect synchronization with his legs, providing balance and stability as he navigates the twists and turns.