by Janae Keyes
“Does anyone have any questions?” The Willows lady asked.
Damn, her name was stupid like something out of some fairytale shit Disney movie. Fantasia…that was it. “Yeah.” I shot my hand in the air like an elementary school pupil. “Where’s the bar?”
“There is no alcohol on the premises,” she shot at me.
I saw the girl across the room roll her eyes. I’d seen her when I first walked in. A nice little piece of ass. She had smooth-looking milk chocolate skin, her dark hair pulled to the side in a loose single braid. She was sitting in a wheelchair, so I couldn’t get a look at the complete package, but it seemed pretty nice from my angle. I’d seen her somewhere before, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on it or my dick in her.
I wasn't ashamed to admit that Big Zeus, my giant cock, and I had been around the block plenty of times. Being an athlete got me all the pussy I could find. Girls threw themselves at me, and I wasn't one to deny them a ride on good ole Zeus.
Everything I knew had come crashing down in the last few months. Before it all happened, my hockey career had never been better. I was making wads of money playing in the NHL. I had everything I could’ve ever asked for; fast cars, a big house, and hot chicks. I had also been selected once again to play for Team USA at the Olympics.
Yeah, everything was great until my last game. The guys could get rough. That was part of the fun. But when I ended up at the bottom of the pile and my leg got snapped in two separate areas that fucked it all up.
JC had learned about this Willows place and I wasn’t convinced, I still wasn’t, but he was determined to get me back in the rink. Honestly, I could give up, get me a new place on the beach, and spend my days with a beer in my hand, watching hotties sun bathe. Sadly, JC wasn’t for that plan because he figured I could eventually come back, but I didn’t see how.
During the entire meeting, that girl across the room was haunting me. I knew she was a fairly accomplished athlete, so it shocked me that I didn’t know her. I had slept my way through most of the Winter Olympics women. Sochi was my playground. I’d hooked up with an abundance of hotties during the games. None of them could get enough. Zeus had done his job and done it well.
“We have a refreshment hour for all of you. During the hour, you will get to meet members of the staff, one another, and receive your cabin assignments. Each of you will have a private cabin on the campus. There are shuttles to transport you there or you may walk if you can manage,” the Fantasia lady announced.
This place was like some seriously fucked up summer camp. We would be sequestered together for an amount of time, get three square meals a day plus snacks, and there would be activities like seeing shrinks. At least I had my own spot. I think everyone knew I’d raise hell if I didn’t have a private cabin.
Fantasia ended her little speech, thank God, and the room started to buzz with hushed conversations. I forced myself off the couch I’d occupied although I should have stayed down because the pain in my leg went from 0 to 60 in under a second. There was a punch bowl set up across the room, and I was grateful my flask still had a little something in it.
Passing the cutie in the wheelchair, I got a better look at her. Her face finally registered in my head. It was the beloved Ice Princess, as she’d been dubbed by the media. The girl was something fierce on the ice and the wheelchair didn’t do her justice. I knew her body was banging. I had gotten a nice look at her juicy round ass in Sochi.
Damn, that was a good day. I was hung over as fuck from bar hopping with my boys, and coach was still forcing me to do my six o’clock morning workout. I’d only gotten in at four and I was up at it. She was in the gym. Lia Crestwood, that’s her name. What a sight to behold, her squatting with her round ass right in my line of sight. That was the only thing that got me through my workout that day.
“Mr. Madden, I’m very happy you came. There were fears you wouldn’t be here,” a voice said from behind me.
I rolled my eyes before turning to face the woman. She was older, maybe in her late 50’s with graying brunette hair, large glasses that seemed to take up too much of her face, and a round frame. “I don’t think I had a choice,” I grumbled as I thought of JC who had ditched my ass at this shit place.
Ignoring her, I grabbed a muffin from the refreshments table. At least they weren’t making us eat carrot sticks and that shit my trainer was all about. Though normally, I lived a lifestyle full of eating clean, sometimes a dude just needed some fucking sugar.
After biting into the muffin, I spit it out the moment its taste touched my tongue.
“Fucking bran,” I growled as I wiped my tongue with a napkin. I hated that shit. I’d rather have the carrot sticks.
“I didn’t introduce myself,” the woman’s voice returned. “I’m Cynthia Reed, the head of counseling services here at the Willows Center.”
“Ah, a shrink,” I countered, staring down the plump woman who stood before me.
“If you’d like to call me that. I’m a behavioral therapist that specializes in sports medicine and the athletic mind. You all here are unique. You have skills that normal people don’t possess. These skills have made you all champions, yet you find yourselves in a place where your injuries are keeping you from achieving that status at the moment. It can be hard not just on the ego, but on your healing process also. I’m here to help you talk through anything you need to talk through as your body heals. Your mind needs time to heal as well.”
Yep, this place was full of horseshit and I was stuck. Great.
“Yeah, um, Cynthia or whatever, I don’t need any of that mind-fuck shit. I simply need some physical rehab to get my leg healed up and get me back on the ice. I’m sure you’re great at whatever the fuck it is you do, but that’s not my gig.” I had to tell it to her straight up. I didn’t want these people to think I needed their fucking psychotherapy.
“I’m always here if you need me,” Cynthia said in her kind voice.
Damn shrink already trying to get in my head. I didn’t need her. I found the punch, poured myself a cup, and took a cautious sip. Luckily, it was some decent fruit punch. I took a peek around to make sure nobody was watching me before I slipped my flask from my jacket pocket and poured a touch of liquor into my punch.
I watched the room. Most of the athletes were eager to talk to the staff members. Others seemed excited to chat with one another. I popped an oxy for the tingle that began to run up my bad leg. I hoped they would get us to our cabins soon so that I could get some sleep. I was already tired of this shit and it wasn’t even officially day one.
It wasn’t hard to spot Lia. She still sat in her chair, chatting with a few other girls and some Russian-looking guy. I’d heard her injury was pretty intense. Everyone in the skating world, even the hockey players were talking about her shattered ankle. Coming back from that type of injury seemed impossible. I felt bad for her in a way.
I started hobbling around the room. Fuck, I hated this fucking hobble. I couldn’t wait until my leg started to function normally again, but those damn pins they’d placed in my bone were something else.
Not too far from Lia and her little posse, I could hear their conversation. I pretended to be interested in one of the bullshit brochures. JC had given me all of them when he was originally trying to convince me to come here. Fuck him.
“Who’s that guy?” I heard her sweet voice ask.
Zeus instantly came to attention at just the sound of her silky voice. Girl could do some damage with that voice of hers alone.
“You don’t know who he is?” another chick asked Lia. This chick was all right, nothing to tell the boys about. Unlike the chocolate dream that was Lia, this girl had pasty skin, short blonde hair, and a thick European accent.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lia shake her head at the question. Did this girl really not know who I was? It had to be a joke. She knew I was near so she was pulling my leg. Every girl in a thousand-mile radius knew who I was. I was Max fucking Madden.
&
nbsp; “That is Max Madden, the hockey player known for being a sexy bad boy,” the girl informed her. This chick wasn’t even American and she knew who the fuck I was. Lia needed to get with the program and fast.
“He’s sexy my ass. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lia spat. That’s where it ended.
I limped directly in her direction. I even bent down to come face to face with the one in the chair who had spoken blasphemy. “Hey, Princess, who are you calling an asshole?” I asked, my face directly in hers. It gave me an opportunity to check out her nice rack. For an athletic girl, she still had a good size rack; possibly C’s peeking through the opening of her V-neck sweater.
“You. Can you get out of my face?”
Damn, she had a quick mouth on her. Zeus was back at it again as my mind wondered about her mouth taking him all the way in.
“Once you take back that bit about me being an asshole, sweetheart.” I ran my finger along her jaw and smiled to myself when I felt her shiver. She liked it and she wanted it, Zeus agreed. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Maybe not, but you came in here interrupting everything like some spoiled-ass child when you are clearly a grown-ass man,” she spat. Her eyes stared directly into mine. I got a chance to take in the sweet dark honey-brown color they were. I might’ve found them breathtaking if she wasn’t being a bitch to my face. “Now, back off!”
I stood up, proud and strong. Luckily, my pill had kicked in. I wasn’t in pain and I felt like the big man on campus, which was always the best feeling. Zeus was also letting himself be known as he wasn’t confined by underwear. It was commando day and big man needed to breathe too.
That moment was beautiful. Her chest heaved up and down as her eyes gave Zeus’ outline under my sweatpants a thorough look over. I wanted to chuckle to myself as her eyes glossed over with a lust I knew well when girls came face to face with what I had in my pants. I didn’t call him Big Zeus to be funny.
“And what makes you better than me or anyone else here?” I asked her, breaking her concentration that had solely been on my hard cock.
“I-I never said I was. I’m here for the same reasons as everyone else. I want to get back on the ice, compete again, and be the best I can be. You, on the other hand, clearly don’t want to be here.”
“And who says I don’t.”
“I do and I’m sure everyone else agrees.”
“Let me tell you a little something, Princess.” I used her little nickname like a slur. I even saw her react, she looked taken aback and offended enough. She was where I wanted her. Well, not exactly where I wanted her. I wanted her in my bed naked, screaming my name, telling me how hard she liked it, and how good I was.
“We’re all only good for so long. Until we get old and get hurt. You, like me, have been around the block a few times. You’re up there in age, Princess. And with an injury like yours, I don’t think you’ll be competing anytime soon. There are a whole lot of young sexy things ready to take your spot. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep my hopes up.”
Yeah, I could be the asshole she’d made me out to be. I figured if I was going to live up to this false identity she’d placed on me, I’d do it right. The anger on her face showed I’d done my job well. I no longer had time for any of this bullshit. I needed some more booze and my bed.
I hated lying awake. As soon as the little reception hour was over, we were transported to our cabins. There were little cabins sprinkled across the campus. I was having way too many flashbacks of summer camp as a kid and teen. The later years at camp had been nice; cute girls in bikinis and getting a blowjob or two behind the lifeguard shack at night.
Summer camp was my mom’s way to get me out of the house when there was no school so she could let go of any responsibility. That was so she could party, do drugs, and hook up with married men. That woman didn’t deserve the title of mother. It’s not like she was ever around for me. She kept rich boyfriends around to secure us a place to live and cash to fund her expensive shopping and drug habits.
At 17, I’d been playing hockey for a couple years. By 19, some pro scouts came across me and offered me contracts. Those contracts got me out of Minnesota and away from her. Of course the moment I started making money, she came around begging. Bitch had the nerve to sell stories to the tabloids about me.
The first rule I learned was to never let anyone in and never let anyone get close. If your own mother could do you dirty, anyone could. I made it my mission to stay far away from relationships of any substance except for my best friend. He would never do me wrong, though I was at the center.
At least my bed was comfortable enough. I’d expected it to be, because of the amount of money that I’d had to drop to be here was one pretty penny. It wasn’t like I didn’t have it, though. My contract with the Sharks was pretty nice, and I had all kinds of endorsement deals.
The realization hit me. If my career were to go down the drain, so would much of the money I was making. My lifestyle would have to change dramatically, and I wasn’t ready for that.
The cabins were like mini apartments. It was nothing like my South Bay home, but it would do for the time being until JC’s ass came and got me.
Honestly, I didn’t know what to do without JC. He’d been my best friend since the fifth grade and the one person I could depend on to always have my back no matter what. When I got injured and others who I thought were my friends, including my own girlfriend, dropped me, I still had JC.
As soon as I got in my bedroom, I opened my suitcase, which had been previously delivered. I wanted to check if they had gone through my shit. Luckily, they hadn’t. I pulled out the full bottle of Jack I’d smuggled in a pair of rolled up jeans.
After some shots, I passed out until I found myself awake with none other than Lia on my mind. It was possible that I’d been a huge ass. Fuck, I was going to have to get in her good graces. I didn’t like people to be angry with me, especially smoking hot girls.
Rolling over in bed, I saw her sweet face in my mind, it was round and soft. Her long hair draping over her shoulders. She has sensual dark honey-brown eyes that had made Zeus stand at attention once more. I couldn’t wait to see more of her. Damn, she was a reason to stay in the hellhole a little longer. Maybe I’d get a blow job or two behind the lifeguard shack.
Fuck, it had been a hard year so far, and with that pretty little feisty thing named Lia around, it couldn’t get much better.
3
Lia
“Ugh, fuck him!” I grunted. I was wide awake in bed with that bastard’s words still running through my head. Who was he? Some dumb ass, that’s who he was.
Other girls in the room had drooled at the mere sight of him. I, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know anything about this Max Madden, the very man who was keeping me wide awake. The worst part was I wasn’t awake only because he’d pissed me off, but also because he had set my entire body aflame.
Maybe it was all of the pain I was in because of my ankle. Because around him, the heat was searing. What didn’t seem to help was the situation I could see through his sweatpants. I was given a nice display of what he was packing. Wow! That was something.
My mouth grew parched, and my body heated up. I slipped out of bed and grabbed one crutch to keep the weight off my bad ankle as I hopped across the cabin’s hardwood floor into the small kitchenette.
The cabin had everything one would need in a place like this. The kitchen was small with dark wood cabinets and granite countertops. It was equipped with a small stainless steel refrigerator, coffee pot, microwave, and toaster oven.
I grabbed a glass and filled it with tap water. After taking a swig of the cool water, I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. The image I saw frustrated me. Max Madden was standing right in front of me, his steel gray eyes, infuriatingly sexy, smug grin, and his not-so-secret package.
I slammed my glass on the countertop, hopped back toward my bed, and grabbed my iPad from the bedside table. I needed to know who this gu
y was. Maybe that would help the quickening of my heart and the sweating of my palms that happened whenever I thought about the guy who was a complete asshole to me.
That’s what I didn’t get; the guy was a total ass. He’d gotten in my face and practically told me I didn’t stand a chance at a comeback. I’d been fighting my doubts on and off since day one and when I finally felt like maybe I could do it, he swooped right in and tried to discourage me.
I’d met people like Max before. Normally, those people were the competition. They always knew the exact moment to make you feel less than, causing you to want to give up. Over the years, I’d learned to block them out. I didn’t need their negativity and I didn’t need his. I was doing me. Hell, I didn’t even know why he was at the center if he didn’t think he had a chance.
As soon as I started searching his name, articles popped up right away, from ESPN.com to TMZ online. The guy seemed to be talented. He was one of the best hockey players in quite some time, although his stats meant nothing to me as I wasn’t the hockey kind of girl.
Apart from his apparently stellar hockey game, there was his striking temper that got him into a lot of trouble. The gossip sites were filled with reports of him getting into fights at clubs and bars. Then there were countless photos of him coming out of clubs with half naked girls all over him. I rolled my eyes.
His dating record was filled with Playboy playmates and other models. Most were blonde with big fake boobs and the look on their faces that affirmed they weren’t the smartest. And none of those relationships seemed to last longer than a month except for his last one with a model, who he was with for a whopping six months. He was the typical jock. He had too much popularity and money for his own good, and it went straight to his head—both of them.
Fuck, why was I even spending my time on him? Searching him? Learning about him? It wasn’t like he meant anything to me. Though my record wasn’t much better. I’d dated around too; fellow athletes mostly. And none of those hookups lasted long. We’d always have such intense schedules. My dedication was my focus and skating was my life.
