Forbidden Puck: A Hockey Romance

by June Winters

  “Ella—” He reached out to give me a hug, but I batted his stupid arms away.

  “I said don't.”

  I marched off to the shower, to wash away the grimy, sludgy sense of regret.

  ***

  When I emerged from the shower, Lance and Radar were huddled at the kitchen table.

  “Hey sis,” Lance said.

  “Hi Lance,” I muttered.

  “How was your workout?”

  “Honestly?” I let the question hang just to see Radar squirm in his seat. “Not so good. I didn't really have it in me today. In fact, it's almost like I didn't workout at all.”

  “Uh. Okay.” Lance laughed uncomfortably and wolfed down a doughnut in a single bite. I saw him catch Radar's eye, as if to silently communicate some thought like, 'women, what crazy bitches, am I right?'

  “Did you sleep alright last night, Honey Badger?” Lance shot Radar another sly look. “Any strange sounds keep you up at night?”

  “What, you mean besides the grunting and groaning at three in the morning? Radar was banging some slut in the living room, as I'm sure he told you.”

  Lance burst into laughter, but Radar slumped in his seat.

  “Okay, okay—wait, you mean you actually heard them fucking?! Because Radar seems to think that you slept through it …”

  “How could I sleep through that? Her screams were just awful. Like a thousand wolves being burned alive.”

  Lance practically fell out of his chair. “Ohhh my God! A thousand wolves—aaah! I would've loved to have heard that!”

  “You laugh, but I was worried. I actually came out to check on them and make sure everyone was alright.”

  Lance's eyes grew as big as plates. “You what???”

  “I mean, what if someone was having a medical emergency? I had to make sure.”

  “Well, what'd you see?” Lance asked.

  “Um.” I covered my mouth and snickered. “Well, I saw Radar, butt-naked and covered with sweat, jack-hammering away on some blonde chick on the red leather couch that we just picked out.”

  Radar turned as red as a tomato, but Lance beamed with delight.

  “So you actually caught them in the act?! I am laughing my fucking ass off right now! Dude! Figures some shit like this would go down the one night I'm not here! Can you believe he fucked that girl on the new couch? I told him he owes me five grand. Look at how red Radar is—you can tell he's ashamed of himself, haa!”

  “How do you think she feels? She's probably really regretting her life choices today,” I said, “especially once she realizes she left her panties here and everything. How embarrassing for her.”

  “So you saw the panties in the living room, too?! Dude, Radar, you really fucked up, bud!” Lance howled, pointing a finger right in Radar's face. “But don't worry, Ella, I doubt she'll be missing those panti—”

  “That's enough,” Radar roared, and the room fell suddenly quiet and tense.

  Lance leaned back in his chair. “Jeez. Hey, sorry bud. Just playin' around, that's all.”

  Radar checked his watch. “Look. We need to get going or we're going to be late.”

  “Right, right.” Lance rose from his chair. “Lemme grab my shit.”

  Lance went off to his room. I started to walk away too, but Radar spun me around with his hand on my shoulder.

  “What the hell was all that?” he growled at me quietly.

  “Huh? I'm just doing what you asked. You wanted me to lie for you, right?”

  “Not like that! The more ridiculous details you add, the less believable it is!”

  I rolled my eyes. “So now you're telling me how I should lie.”

  “Ella, please! Be reasonable!”

  Lance stepped back into the room, ready to go. He raised a suspicious eyebrow at the two of us. “What's up, you guys?”

  “Radar was just apologizing for his behavior last night.” I strutted away. “You two have fun at your morning skate.”

  Chapter 18

  Morning Skate

  Radar

  The water taxi chugged towards Boston, but I kept my eye trained on our building. Somewhere in there, Ella was busy hating my guts.

  And even if I wasn't happy with her little stunt at breakfast, I knew why she'd done it. I'd made her lie. The one thing she built her personal code around … and I'd made her trash it. Just for me.

  I wished I didn't have to go to morning skate. I wished I could call in sick, but that never goes over well with your teammates or your coaches. All I wanted more than anything right now was to be back in that building. Alone with Ella, so I could really try to … I dunno. Talk about last night? Explain myself?

  But what else is there to explain? You tried to do the right thing—you didn't even fuck her! Besides, she's covering for you and now you guys won't get caught. Nothing to worry about. The end.

  But if all that was true, then why did I still feel so rotten?

  Lance elbowed my side. “You alright, man?” he asked.

  “Huh? Yeah, why?”

  “You're all quiet and moody today. Never seen you like this.” He elbowed my side. “You didn't go falling for that girl last night, did you?”

  If he had any idea the girl he was talking about was his little sister—

  “What? No way,” I panted.

  “Good. Because the Brawlers can't have you going all soft on us.” He leered at me. “You sure you didn't fall for her? Sounds like she was a real wild one. Maybe that's what you've been looking for all this time.”

  “I don't wanna talk about it, Lance,” I groaned.

  “Okay. Whatever, man.”

  Lance was right. I was quiet and moody. The rest of the way to the arena, I didn't say a word. I felt so damn conflicted about everything.

  Ella's taste still lingered on my tongue. Every so often, I'd get a whiff of her musk, and memories from last night flooded my mind. Me, between her thighs, holding her legs apart. Her dress hastily bunched up around her waist. The way her eyes fluttered, how she bit her lip, the expressions on her face, God, her screams! …

  Everything about her drove me wild. Just thinking about last night made me hard. She took off her dress, climbed into my bed, and—somehow, somehow, I managed to do the right thing and turn that beautiful girl down.

  And now she hated my guts.

  ***

  I was a disaster in our morning skate. I flubbed pucks left and right. I whiffed on passes. I turned one-timers that should've been goals into duds that sailed ten feet wide. I lost an edge and took a spill to the ice more than once.

  I might as well have been Ryan Ryder from four years ago—the player who couldn't hold a steady roster spot in the NHL, who didn't have the confidence that he belonged on NHL ice.

  “The hell's wrong with you today?” Shea barked at me.

  I shook my head. “Dunno.”

  Lance glided by and announced with a shit-eating grin, “Radar had a lady friend last night.”

  “Oh, another pair of panties for the collection, huh.” Shea wasn't amused. He blasted a heavy slap-shot at the goalie and turned to me. “If your social life is starting to become a problem on the ice, it's time to grow the hell up and knock that shit off, Radar.”

  Bitterly, I swallowed the captain's sage advice with a reluctant nod. “Thanks, Shea.”

  This can't be over soon enough.

  ***

  After practice, I sat at my stall like a zombie while Lance recounted Ella's version of last night to all the boys in the dressing room.

  “… yep, she literally said, the girl screamed like a thousand wolves being burned alive. … I know! I know! … Hell, she'll hang out with us after the game tonight, I'm sure. You can ask her yourself …”

  “It's not true,” I grumbled at last. “None of it is true.”

  “What?” Lance chuckled. “You're going to just deny it?”

  “Yes. It's not true.”

  “What about it isn't true, then?”

  I stared at
Lance. I couldn't possibly tell him Ella made the whole thing up, or he'd ask why. And then that'd only make him more suspicious. I was trapped.

  “ … Nevermind.”

  The boys all laughed uproariously. Yep, surely, I was just all bent out of shape because Lance's sister caught me in the act. Ha ha ha. Oh, boy. What a riot. I even left her panties in the living room—talk about a smoking gun.

  Our coach came in and interrupted the chuckle-head session. He said some of us didn't look like we came ready to play, so we'd better pull our heads out of our asses before the game tonight and come ready to play. He didn't call anybody out by name, but we all knew exactly who he meant.

  I couldn't wait to head home. We'd have a few hours to eat lunch, take a pre-game nap, and then it was time to head back to the rink for game time.

  And, somewhere in there, I hoped I could talk with Ella to make myself feel better.

  Chapter 19

  Something in the Air

  Ella

  While Lance and Radar were away at their pre-game skate, the door-bell started ringing. A gorgeous salvaged wood coffee table we snagged at the antique shop was the first item to arrive, but all morning long, delivery guys were arriving with our other purchases. I was glad to have the distraction, and I hopped right into action and started decorating the condo.

  I hoped that work might be able to take my mind off other things—but while I unpacked boxes and rearranged furniture, my thoughts were elsewhere.

  Like the nauseating guilt I felt over lying. Yeah, yeah. It wasn't the end of the world. But to me, it mattered a lot. It went against my principles. Frankly, I had to wonder why I even bothered to lie for Radar in the first place. Why should I care if he nuked his relationship with Lance? I warned him not to kiss me. What did it matter to me if he damaged his own career? He knew that those were the consequences of getting with me in the first place.

  But as soon as I started covering up for him, I enabled his crimes. And so I had to live with the guilt while he got away with his misdeeds. He probably didn't even learn anything from this whole experience. He'd be all over the next forbidden piece of ass he came across. What would he do next? Try to sleep with Lindsay the butt model when Lance wasn't around?

  Worst of all, I couldn't even say last night was a total disaster. Yes, he got me all excited to lose my virginity only to leave me stranded at the altar like a jilted bride. And somehow, disturbingly, that fact only made me want him more. But all morning long, filthy little memories from last night flashed through my head. And I couldn't help but be turned on, as pathetic and horrifying as that sounds. But I couldn't help it. He was so good. His perfect kisses, his electric touch, the panty-melting bulge that towered in the crotch of his pants …

  Or, ugh, how good he was at oral—teasing my folds with his tongue, licking me until I thrust at his face uncontrollably. Or how he kissed and sucked at my clit and finger-fucked me until I screamed so embarrassingly loud in orgasm.

  After I came, and Radar sucked my juices right off his finger? God, that was so dirty, but so hot at the same time. I felt like he wanted me so bad, that, well, he deserved me. And besides, I wanted to lose my virginity. And who better than Radar—a guy who wouldn't get attached to me or make a big deal out of it. A guy who'd just take me and then it'd finally be over.

  At least, that's what I thought.

  But then, Radar got me into his bedroom, got me naked, … and then he turned me down.

  My thoughts turned inward at the moment. Is something wrong with my body? Why doesn't he want me?

  But no. It wasn't me, or at least that's what he swore. Apparently, he'd just decided to grow a conscience. He didn't have a problem with kissing me or groping me or eating me out on the brand new couch. But fucking his best friend's little sister? Well, that was a bridge too far, and something only a bad friend would do.

  What I did with Radar wasn't some new milestone for me. I'd given, and received, oral with my past boyfriends. But it was always my boyfriends who pushed for more—only to get gently turned down—and end up complaining about their severe case of 'blue balls.'

  Last night, for once, I was the one to get turned down. And now I had my own case of the 'blue balls.' My insides ached with frustration … abandonment … misery.

  I guess this is how my boyfriends always felt. There might have been a hilarious irony in that, but I certainly wasn't in the frame of mind to appreciate it.

  And yet, nearly lost in all my suffering, were two curious and bothersome questions: if Radar turned me down … wasn't he actually the kind of guy that I'd basically given up on trying to find? And why would I lie for a guy if I truly thought he was worthless?

  You're just getting your hopes up, I thought to myself with a sigh. He only cares about himself.

  ***

  When the duo of hockey bozos returned, I was standing on my tip-toes on the top rung of a step-ladder, struggling with the new curtains we bought for the giant living room windows.

  “Suh-weet! This place looks so fucking legit already, Ella!” Lance cheered as he stepped in and saw the chaos. Radar lurked behind him. “I love it, Honey Badger!”

  “I'm glad,” I said, focused on my task.

  Radar neared and steadied the base of the ladder. “Can I help you with that? I'm tall, I'll be able to reach up there easily.”

  “No thanks,” I said in a perfectly polite and cheerful tone that I hoped was another dagger to his heart. “How was practice, Lance?”

  “Ah, you know, it was just a morning skate, not a big deal. Except for … this guy!” Lance ran up and put Radar in a head lock. “Radar was a total scrub out there!”

  That bit of information put a warm fullness in my belly. Ahh. Just desserts.

  “You should've seen him, Ella. The guy must have some seriously weak knees after last night! That's why Coach always tells us, don't blow too big of a load the day before a game! You gotta save a little cum in your balls, or you won't have any legs left to skate!”

  “That is so fucking gross,” I wailed.

  Radar fought to get out of Lance's hold, and the two began to rough-house right in my area.

  “Would you mind?” I asked, annoyed. “Last thing I need on this vacation is for you two jerks to knock me off this ladder and put me in the hospital.”

  They separated.

  Lance gestured down the hallway. “Well. It's about nap time. Shall we, Radar?”

  “… Sure,” Radar said.

  “Aw, that's cute,” I mewled, “but aren't you supposed to store up your cum for the game?”

  “Shutup,” Lance whinnied. “You know I didn't mean it like that. We all take naps before a game, in our own beds, thank you very much.”

  “I'm just giving you shit, like you would me.”

  Lance walked off and made for his bedroom. But Radar stood in place, staring and watching me as I hung the curtains. I could feel his gaze on me but I didn't dare return it.

  Lance called for him from down the hallway. “C'mon, Radar, leave Honey Badger alone and get some shut-eye, will ya? You obviously need it …”

  Quietly, Radar exhaled and walked off.

  ***

  An hour later, the boys were napping in their bedrooms and I was quietly eating a lunch-time snack and flipping through a magazine on the couch, when I heard a bedroom door crack open. Quiet footsteps followed as someone deliberately sneaked down the hallway. I waited, with an eyebrow raised, for what I knew what was coming.

  It was him, alright.

  “Hey,” Radar whispered as he lowered himself onto the cushion next to mine.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to know that I'm sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Last night. Making you lie to your brother today.” He sighed. “Everything, really.”

  “Mm.”

  “I went too far last night. I should've listened to you. You were the voice of reason, and you knew things would only get fucked up, and you w
ere right. But … I couldn't help myself.”

  A silence grew between us.

  “Seriously, what can I do?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “About this. I want to make things right. I hate that you're mad.”

  “What do you care? I'll be gone tomorrow and that'll be that. Besides, we'll probably never see each other again. And you got what you wanted, didn't you?”

  He chuckled quietly.

  “No,” he said.

  “No?”

  “I wouldn't feel this empty if I did.”

  “Well.” I paused to thumb through a flurry of magazine pages. “I know how that feels.”

  “Ella, I only tried to do what I thought was righ—”

  Radar stopped talking when we heard Lance's bedroom door open, and his footsteps come down the hall.

  Uh oh.

  Lance stepped into the living room. For the second time today, Lance walked in on us having a private chat, and I could see the wheels turning in his head—even if he wanted them to stop. “I thought I heard voices out here … what are you two up to?”

  “I couldn't sleep,” Radar said, rising from the couch. “So I came out here to see how Ella's decorating was going.”

  I tutted with a quiet tsk tsk under my breath. Still lying.

  But Lance bought it, probably because he wanted to buy it. “Oh, okay. Well, you really ought to try to nap, man. Even 20 minutes would help you a lot.”

  Radar slapped Lance's shoulder as he walked past. “Yeah, you're right, Lance.”

  After Radar's door shut, Lance neared. “Everything alright with you, Ella?”

  “Yeah Lance, why?”

  “I dunno. I can't quite put my finger on it, but, God, it seems like there's a weird feeling in the air today.” He shrugged. “Who knows. I'm probably imagining it.”

  I smiled at him. “I'm fine. Thanks for asking.”

  Lance scratched his head, like he knew something wasn't right but he couldn't quite figure it out. “Well, okay. Hey, after the game tonight, you wanna come out with the boys? I told 'em you were visiting and they're all pumped about going out afterward.”