Page 78 of Hat Trick
Somewhere in the back of my mind I know it would be ecstasy.
“Well,” Riley finally says after our breathing returns to normal. After my skin starts to cool and the sweat on my chest starts to dry. “I think my therapist will be happy to know I’m out of the depression stage of my grief. A condom full of cum has to mean I’m on the upside of things.”
I burst out laughing and fall forward, my chest pressing against his. He holds me there, secure and safe while he pulls out of me. We both hiss at the break in our contact, and a void settles over me as my shoulders shake and he laughs too.
“You could also be donating to a sperm bank,” I suggest, smiling when he arranges me next to him on the bed.
“True.” He carefully slides the condom off his length and ties it off, tossing it toward the trash can in the bathroom. He misses then huffs out a chuckle. “Oof. Fucking ugly shot there. There’s a reason I play hockey.”
“A swing and a miss.” I kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the great fuck, Mitchy.”
“You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“That was the point of this. We get off, then I go.”
“My dick is still half hard. You’ll hurt my ego if you leave now. And you should shower. Sex ed and all of that.”
“You make a convincing argument.” I sigh and grab the sheets, draping them around us. “Fifteen minutes and one shower, then I’m hitting the road.”
“Forty-five, I’ll order us room service, then I’ll do recon in the hall to make sure none of the guys are getting back at the same time.”
“What kind of room service?”
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Grilled cheese,” I say. “With a big ass pickle.”
“Ah, yes. You and your love of heart attack-inducing sandwiches.” Riley grabs the hotel phone, adjusts his crooked and smudged glasses, and looks down at me. “Fries?”
“Yeah.” I swallow. “And a shit ton of ketchup, please. Oh! And a milkshake.”
“Oreo, right?”
“Yeah,” I repeat, the word stuck. “That’s right.”
“Get comfortable, Armstrong. You’re not free from me yet.”
Forty-five minutes turns into a shower where Riley sits on the lid of the toilet and talks to me while I wash my hair. A heaping pile of food and an old western movie we barely watch because we’re too busy making out. Chatting about his teammates and my friends. And when I finally slip out of his room two hours before we need to be downstairs to catch the team bus to the airport, I’m so exhausted, but I can’t locate a smidge of regret.
My phone chimes when I press my keycard against my door, and I wait until I’m safely in my room before I open it.
Riley
Dude. I just hooked up with the HOTTEST woman.
And I stole her underwear.
*Attachment: 1 image*
It’s a picture of him with my thong between his teeth, the flash of the camera reflecting in his glasses. His hair is a mess. There are marks all over his chest and neck from my mouth and fingernails, and something unexplainable stirs in my soul when a fourth message comes through.
Riley
Today was a good day.
Me
It was, wasn’t it?
