Overtime: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Kat Mizera

  “I need to wash my face,” I said, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

  “Go on. I’ll be right here.”

  I went into the bathroom and washed up, lamenting how puffy my eyes were and how red my face was. I looked terrible, but I felt even worse, so there was no help for it. I didn’t think Patrick minded, though, because he’d been a huge support to me today. He hadn’t tried to tell me everything would be okay or that she’d get over it, he’d simply let me cry and get everything off my chest.

  He was waiting when I came out, and simply opened his arms again. I fell into them as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and I nestled against his chest.

  “How’s your eye?” I asked after a few minutes.

  “It’s a lot better. Sore but manageable now.”

  “Good.”

  “So she’s taking the car on Friday?”

  I nodded miserably.

  “It’s okay. I’ve never had a car and it’s not that bad.”

  “I’ve done everything they’ve ever asked of me except this. I graduated with honors. My two bachelor’s degrees were in biology and computer science, and there has never been any doubt I was going to do something that at least involved technology, even though my passion is bio. And dammit, they gave me that car for my eighteenth birthday! You don’t take back a fucking birthday present!” I was rambling but too miserable to care.

  “I know. It’s pretty shitty. Will your dad take your side at all?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not on this. They’re both completely enamored with the idea of me becoming a doctor.”

  “Are you going to stay here to finish your Ph.D.?”

  “I don’t know anything anymore. I was also thinking about taking a semester off to do some different things, but I can’t do anything without money.”

  “Can you teach?”

  “Yes, but what they pay for teaching just a few classes wouldn’t be enough for me to get an apartment and stuff. I’d have to take out student loans for at least part of it and I don’t even know what my scholarships would cover.”

  “It’s doable, though, right? You could figure it out.”

  I nodded.

  “And I’ve got your back. We’ll work on it together and I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  “I know.” I dipped my head, fighting off a fresh bout of tears.

  “Come on.” He gently lifted my chin. “Don’t be sad. You’re not alone, Ellie. I’m here for you.”

  I wanted to remind him that he probably wouldn’t be here more than a few more months, but I buried my face in his chest instead. We’d only been together about ten days, but I couldn’t imagine Patrick not being in my life six months from now. And that scared me far more than my mother.

  12

  Patrick

  I did my best to distract Ellie but she wasn’t herself. Between recuperating from my injury on Saturday night and dealing with her situation with her mom, we’d spent most of Sunday cuddled on her bed watching Netflix. We didn’t talk much, didn’t make out at all, and I had to coax her to do an hour of studying. I hadn’t planned to sleep over, but there was no way I could leave her alone with how she was feeling, so I’d texted Paxton, told him what was up, and asked him to bring me my stuff for tomorrow. After hearing Ellie’s situation, he and Naomi had come over with my backpack and clothes for me, along with a couple of pizzas from Tito’s, which Ellie at least nibbled on.

  Their visit cheered her up a little, but we were asleep early again. I was showered and out of there by eight and we agreed to meet up for coffee later. Mondays were busy for both of us and I felt a little bad that I wouldn’t be able to check on her until after practice, but she’d been in a better mood this morning.

  “How’s Ellie?” Paxton asked when we were changing to get ready for practice.

  “She was better when we got up, but I think Friday is going to be rough.”

  “That’s the day her mom is supposedly taking the car?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, if it’s during the day, before the game, I say we stick close to her so she has support.”

  “That’s what I was thinking too.”

  “So, not to piss on your Monday, but I talked to Dad last night.”

  I made a face. “Oh, boy, can’t wait to hear this.”

  “I got the whole lecture about convincing you to go pro at the end of the year.”

  “And?”

  He hesitated and met my gaze almost guiltily. “You could do it. You’re close enough to graduation that you’d still have your degree and get Dad off your back simultaneously.”

  “I need three more classes after this semester. Even if I can take one or two over the summer, I can’t take all three, and I’m afraid if I leave in May, I’ll never finish.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said quietly.

  “You’ll be in Seattle,” I pointed out. “You’re going to be thousands of miles away, playing pro hockey and starting your life with Naomi.”

  “Yeah, but I’m never more than a phone call away.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “But it’s not the same.” He knew me well enough to voice what I’d mostly been thinking. “Look, I get it. But if you take two this summer, you can take the last one next summer. It’s a long time and you probably won’t get to walk across the stage, but does that part of it matter to you?”

  I shook my head. “No. It would be nice, but it’s not the end-all. Maybe I just haven’t wrapped my head around the idea of this being it, that after this semester, I’ll be done with college and be a fully functioning adult. Moving to Vegas and playing pro hockey still seems like it’s something in the way distant future.”

  “Well, just because Dad wants you to doesn’t mean you have to do it,” Paxton said. “With me in Seattle, he’ll be distracted and won’t nag you as much. Even though I’m not his superstar child.”

  “Gross. Trade you.” Our father had always favored me because I was the better hockey player but that wasn’t necessarily true anymore. Paxton was great—he wouldn’t have been drafted if he wasn’t—and while I had a slight edge when it came to leadership, that wasn’t a big deal in my opinion.

  “I guess.” I locked up my things. This was no time to think about anything that deep. “Anyway, let’s get out there.” I turned and made my way toward the ice. There were too many things to focus on during practice, so I tried to turn off everything but hockey. Usually when I was in the zone, everything else became white noise, but today I couldn’t quiet it. I was worried about Ellie, my father, my grades, my future—and it was a lot. Even for a tough guy like me.

  Luckily, my body knew what to do on autopilot, especially during practice, so I got through it without being too much of a fuck-up. I was distracted as hell, though, and all I could think about was getting back to Ellie. Both because I knew she needed me but also because, in a way that was hard to articulate, I needed her. The way she’d sat up all night on Saturday had touched me. I’d had a headache and had been kind of cranky, but it hadn’t been serious. Ellie hadn’t been willing to take anyone’s word for it, though, watching me most of the night until she’d felt comfortable that I wasn’t having a seizure or whatever crazy thing she’d thought. Concussions were serious, of course, but if there had been any chance of that, the team wouldn’t have let me finish the game, much less go back to my room without supervision.

  Still, it was one of many things I loved about Ellie. She hadn’t been upset that she’d driven three hours to see me play and I’d gone to sleep on her. She hadn’t cared that we’d decided to share the room with Paxton and Naomi in the interest of my safety instead of us having some privacy. And mostly, she’d been relieved the next morning when I told her I felt fine. The only thing she’d thought about that night was me. And aside from my twin, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had put me first.

  It was a nice feeling, knowing that someone cared about me beyond Patrick-the-hockey-player. I hadn
’t known Ellie long, but she was spectacularly transparent and there was no doubt in my mind she would like me whether I played hockey, was a fellow science geek, or something else altogether. The way she looked at me sometimes, as if I’d personally hung the moon just for her, made me uncomfortable, but for different reasons than I would have expected. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was like an addiction. I practically held my breath the whole way back from the rink, as I waited for her to buzz me in, and until she opened the door and I could touch her.

  Then I kissed her like I hadn’t seen her in weeks instead of hours.

  “Hi,” she breathed against my mouth. “I missed you too.”

  Damn, she was a mind reader on top of everything else.

  I kicked the door shut with my boot and then backed her to her bed. We went over backwards, so I was on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around me.

  “I didn’t touch you nearly enough this weekend,” I said, nibbling the skin under her jaw. “I need to make it up to you.”

  “So…second base?”

  “Maybe.” I grinned as I continued to kiss my way around her head. The sensitive points behind her ears, her temples, the line of her jaw… She was exquisite to explore and touch, and though it had been years since I’d kept my sexual progress stalled out at second base, it was somehow right with Ellie. I liked knowing I was the only guy she’d ever done these things with. It was exciting because while she was completely inexperienced with the sex, she was the smartest, most well-spoken and mature girl I’d ever been with. She was also direct to a fault, had no designs on my future paychecks—a lot of the girls I’d hooked up with did—and was a genuinely sweet, caring person. I liked everything about her and if the trade-off was going slow in the bedroom, I was okay with it. Despite jerking off in the shower at least once a day.

  I pulled away long enough to tug at her hoodie. I knew she had on a T-shirt or tank beneath it, and the fabric of the hoodie was too much of a barrier to her skin right now. She pulled it over her head and I sighed at the sight she made in a tight T-shirt that clung to her lithe body and showed me every detail of her hard little nipples. As I’d suspected, her breasts were small but perfectly round and perky, sitting up high on her chest, even without a bra. I longed to see them completely bare, but we weren’t there yet, so I settled for running my thumbs over the tight peaks through the light cotton of her shirt.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and pale lashes settled on her cheeks. There was a slight flush to her skin as I circled her nipples, and her chest rose and fell more erratically the longer I did it. We rolled onto our sides and I slid my hands beneath her shirt, moving them around to her back. My hands were big enough to cover most of her lower back as I drew her closer to me and claimed her lips again.

  Damn, she was too sweet for words. When her tongue tangled with mine, I almost lost my resolve to keep things moving slowly. It felt that good to have her body draped all over mine, and my cock was stiffer than granite. Would a hand job be too much?

  I took her hand and led it to where my erection was tenting my sweats, urging her to touch me the way I was touching her. Her hand seemed small against my crotch but damn, it felt incredible, even through my clothes. She splayed her fingers over my groin and then slowly squeezed. Not hard but just enough to make me moan. She jerked her hand away and I chuckled, reaching out to bring it back.

  “It feels great when you do that,” I whispered. “That sound I made was sheer pleasure.”

  “Oh.” She looked down, worrying her lower lip as she struggled with some internal decision about what to do next.

  “I want to…feel more,” she said after a while. “I want to touch your skin.”

  “Okay.” I edged down my sweats and boxers, watching her face as she took in her first sight of me. Her eyes widened a little but then she closed her hand around my cock and rubbed her thumb along the head. Her gaze was intense, focused, and I wanted to tell her to relax, but I let her do her own thing until I couldn’t stand it anymore. It was heavenly torture that I gladly endured until I felt she was a little more comfortable touching me, and then I closed my hand around hers, guiding her into a rhythm I liked.

  Maybe it was because it had been weeks since I’d gotten laid, or because Ellie was that good, or even maybe because of the way things heated up the moment we were in the same room together, but it didn’t take long for me to lose control. I shot off after just a few strokes, squeezing her hand harder until I was done.

  “Oh, wow.” Her eyes were filled with the sexiest combination of desire and surprise and I watched her lick her lips.

  “Are you ready for more?” I asked, reaching for a tissue to clean up.

  “Yes, please.” She shimmied out of her sweats before I could say anything, and my dick instantly got hard again. Her long legs were covered in pale, silky skin and her rounded hips were made for fucking.

  “God, you’re killing me.” I buried my face in her abdomen, inhaling the scent of her arousal and using my hands to cup her ass.

  “Show me, Patrick.”

  13

  Ellie

  My first hand job had been totally different than what I’d been expecting. I’d thought an erect penis would be hard, and while it technically was, I hadn’t been prepared for the skin itself to be so soft. Watching him ejaculate had been way better than anything I’d seen in porn, and the sound he’d made as he’d gotten off had made all my girlie parts damp. I loved knowing it was because of me, and now I was a thousand percent ready to feel what it was like to have that kind of pleasure myself.

  I’d taken off my sweats before I had a chance to chicken out, and having his hands all over me, touching and kissing, made me squirm with need. I hadn’t done any of this but I’d read about it and talked about it with my friends, so I had an idea what to expect. Except it was so much better. Patrick was gentle, his touch soft, but my body ached for more.

  His fingers trailed along the hem of my panties and anticipation shot through me. No one had ever touched me there and Patrick was every virginal genius girl’s fantasy. Just better. And hotter. And oh sweet hell, what was he doing now? One finger had traveled between my legs, toying with me, lightly tracing lines along my labia, my pubic bone, up and down my slit. Featherlight flicks of his finger made me squirm and then he touched the place that nearly made me vault up off the bed.

  “Easy…” His voice was raspy, as if he was enjoying this as much as I was, though I couldn’t imagine how that was possible. “Does it feel good?”

  “Soooo good.”

  “It’s going to feel better.”

  He circled the little nub of pleasure I hadn’t even been sure existed until now, and then gently pinched it between two fingers.

  “You’re so wet,” he said. “And I’m already hard again.”

  Our mouths locked together and he slowly pushed a finger inside of me. I moaned, arching into his hand. My body came alive as he finger-fucked me, my legs fell open, inviting him to do more, and his tongue dueled deliciously with mine. Sensations were starting to overwhelm me, the heat of his mouth matching the growing heat between my legs. He added a second finger and something inside of me began coiling up tightly. His fingers traveled back up to my clit, circling and teasing, taking me to the brink and then holding back. I panted against his mouth, anxious for more, and when he gave it to me, everything crashed white.

  I’d been too shy and inexperienced to make myself come, so having an orgasm against Patrick’s hand was the most amazing feeling ever. My whole body shook and I might have cried out, but I never wanted it to stop, riding each wave as it crested over the last.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” Patrick murmured against my ear. “I’m going to make you come at least twice a day from now on.”

  “Holy shit.” I collapsed against the pillows now, my body like jelly as tiny aftershocks shot through me. He still had a finger inside of me and I clenched around him, unwilling to let go of the pleasure.

  “We
were only supposed to explore second base,” he said with a wry grin. “And I’m pretty sure I just slid into third.”

  “Uh-huh.” That was all the vocabulary I could muster up because my heart was still pounding and that damn finger was still inside of me. I whimpered as he pulled it out and tugged me against his chest.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

  “No one’s ever said that to me before,” I whispered, suddenly a little emotional. It wasn’t about the sex itself, but the feelings it aroused. No one had ever told me I was beautiful or sexy, much less made me feel that way. If I was being honest, no one had ever made me feel loved either. At least not in a long time. And Patrick did it all.

  “Are you crying?” he asked, reaching out to tilt up my chin and force me to look at him.

  I shook my head. “No.” But I was. A little. Tears blurred my vision and I wiggled free, burying my face in his chest, embarrassed and overwhelmed.

  “Oh, geez, Ellie, why didn’t you tell me to stop? I thought you wanted—”

  “I did!” I looked up quickly, swiping at my eyes. “This isn’t about third base or whatever. This is about me realizing how lonely I’ve been. How alone I truly am. I’ve been on my own, for lack of a better word, since I was twelve. The general parenting continued, but the smarter they realized I was, the less love and affection I got. All anyone cares about is what amazing thing the genius teenager is going to do next. No one has ever paid any attention to the things I want and need beyond food and shelter. I have a couple of friends but Harley doesn’t understand me and Chastity is busy with her own life, her boyfriend…” I swallowed, feeling a little foolish.

  “Babe, you’re not alone. Not anymore.” His eyes were filled with sincerity and I longed to ask him to take me with him when he went to Las Vegas, but even I knew better than to go there at this stage of our relationship.

  “You’re leaving soon,” I whispered instead. “You’ll be going to Vegas and I’ll be here.”