But, with the way I've turned my game around lately, and with our biggest game of the season tomorrow? I guess curiosity got the best of me.
I flipped to the hockey network. 'Jim and Don' were running through the league's scoreboard from the night.
It didn't take long before I heard my name.
“…which brings us to Hunter Rockwell, who has finally caught fire in Colorado and is leading his team on a late-season charge for the playoffs. If Colorado beats Boston tomorrow—their last game of the season—they grab the last playoff spot. What do you make of this guy, Jim? Is he the real deal?”
My ears perked up.
“Well, I'll tell you something Don, I've had a lot of chats with teams around the league about this guy. After three pretty mediocre years in Colorado, no one believes he's for real anymore. His contract is up at the end of the year and, conveniently, he starts playing like he used to.”
“So you're saying he's just seeking another big payday.”
“Yup. From what I'm hearing, if they lose to Boston tomorrow, Colorado won't be renewing his contract.”
“So do you think Colorado has a shot at winning tomorrow?”
“Honestly? Don't count on it. Boston's been in Rockwell's head ever since his trade. And at the end of the day, when a player's main motivation is money, he'll always fall short when the team needs him to step up.”
Pft. Clowns. What did they know? And why did I even bother tuning in?
I looked at Honor, that beautiful girl sprawled out on my chest. As long as I had her by my side, I wasn't worried about the game tomorrow at all.
But … ifwe lost? Sounded like I'd have to find a job somewhere else next season. And what then?
I tossed and turned, wondering what to do.
Chapter 19:
One for the Road
Honor
When I woke, Hunter was spooning me from behind. His muscled arm curled tightly around my belly, like he never wanted to let me go. After last night's marathon love-making, I'd fallen asleep nude—and judging by the morning wood that was eagerly poking between my thighs, so had Hunter.
I grabbed hold of his thick forearm and made him squeeze me tighter. He felt clammy, misted with a thin, glistening layer of sleep sweat.
The TV was still on—the hockey channel, of course—though the volume was set at a faint whisper.Huh.He must've been up late. I reached for the remote and turned off the TV, but my stirring woke him.
“Mm,” he groaned, his voice gravelly with sleep. He rubbed his puffy eyes. “Hey babe.”
“Morning Hunter.” I gave him a kiss. “How are you?”
“Good.” He paused. “Tired.”
“Oh no—did I wear you out?” I asked, my brow creasing with worry. He had the big game tonight, after all.
“You sure did.” Hunter scooped a single hand under my body and easily picked me up and placed me on top of him as if I weighed nothing. “Not that I mind.”
I giggled, my hands squeezing and groping at whichever hunks of muscle that caught my eye.
Hunter gently rocked his morning boner against my bare pussy.
“Hunter …” I chided him.
“Yeah?”
“Don't your coaches tell you guysnotto fuck on game days?” I asked, my voice lilting with weakness as each deep, longing throb of Hunter's cock tempted me to slide and grind myself against him.
