My Hockey Romance

by Julia Bevan

  “It’s a tiger,” he says, showing her the pendant.

  “It is really sweet,” she says, choking up a little. “I really like it. I have something for you.”

  She turns away from him, trying to hide the fact that since she has no pockets, she has carried his present in the cup of her bra. It is a habit she has picked up through the years playing tennis in outfits that didn’t have pockets.

  She simply learned to tuck things in her sports bra.

  “Oh,” he gasps. “How cool. Oh, hey, it’s a tiger’s eye or something, right?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “It’s a tiger stone. I thought it went with your car.”

  He beams at it, and then he turns his gaze to her. The moment is perfect. They are standing in the moonlight. Rory touches her chin so delicately as they ease into a kiss. His lips are so soft and warm. His breath is sweet. He dips his tongue past her parted lips and sweeps her mouth.

  Sara’s spine softens; her knees buckle as Rory bends over her like they are doing a slow, soft dance. They sway slowly together in the summer air as the moon bathes them in a warm glow. Sara loves being held by him. His arms are so strong, so solid. He is like leaning over a railing that will not let her fall.

  Their bodies melt together as they each grab hold of the other. Sara’s soft breasts press against the massive, solid wall that is his chest. Despite his strength in supporting her, she feels if she bends any further, she will break. She presses up against his chest to signal him to stand up.

  “Goodness,” she says.

  “Hey you wanna get out of here,” he asks. “Take a spin around in my car. I have the top down. Test drive this?”

  He dangles her keychain up in front of her.

  “Do you like it?” she asks hopefully.

  “I love it,” he replies, closing in on her for another kiss.

  “We are kind of the guests of honor,” she reminds him. “I am not saying no, but I am throwing that out there.”

  “We will come back,” he promises.

  “Okay,” she replies exuberantly.

  Hand in hand, they take the ancient brick stairs of the country club down to the parking lot. In fact, the stairs are so old that they are a little uneven. To her horror, Sara finds herself having difficulty walking down them in her heels. It’s just that she rarely wears them, what if she falls? Talk about embarrassing! Thankfully, her knight comes to save her once again as Rory literally sweeps Sara off her feet. He is so strong he is able to carry her down towards his car with ease.

  “Thank-you,” smiles a thankful and enchanted Sara. “I’m so used to tennis shoes, and those stairs are old.”

  “Anytime, my lady,” replies Rory gallantly. It’s so cheesy, yet Sara can’t help but swoon a little. This night has been perfect so far. How can it get any better?

  Rory dances them to his car parked in the lot with the top down. He has been allowed to park in front so that he doesn’t need the valet to wait on him. Rory then opens the passenger door and waits for her to sit down. Sara can’t remember the last time a man held a door open for her. In fact, has it ever happened? Rory jumps into the driver side and gives her a little wink.

  “Buckle up, princess, we’re going for a ride,” he says mischievously. And with that, he coolly backs up, and they’re off.

  The night is magical. The summer air is sweet and light. The metropolitan area can be unbearably humid, even when there is no rain. It did unfortunate things to Sara’s hair. Of course, having the top down in his little MGB musses both their hair. Her blonde strands whip wildly around like party streamers. As the car winds through the street scenes and through the rolling country hills on the outer limits of the nation’s capital – all cast in black and white by the falling night – Rory and Sara exchange warm, longing smiles to each other. The moment could not be more perfect. It is branded into her memory. She knows that no matter what happens next that she is going to forever remember the sensual experience of joyriding with this handsome man after her championship win.

  The road winds through equestrian fence lined estates. There are no cars or people as far as the eye can see. There are just lone, large country houses every so often upon hills off in the distance. Rory pulls over on the shoulder of the road, which is broad enough to be another lane. The car is bathed in silver from a full moon. He looks at Sara with such yearning. The magnetism that flows between them is so powerful that all she can think of is her crush is transforming into love.

  She questions it like crazy because she has never allowed herself the time or space to have feelings for another. She has seen lots of attractive people in passing throughout her tennis career. She has had the occasional dalliance, and this could be that for Rory, but it didn’t feel like that to her. Rory regards her with the same lovesickness that she feels.

  They lean together, their heads crane so that their mouths can meet. It’s a combustible meeting, almost as if they’ve lit a fuse of some kind that bursts into burning desire. Their kissing quickly turns into a passionate mauling that is fueled by an urgent hunger. As much as Rory’s powerful large hands roam her, Sara’s are just as eager to explore. His chest is impressive to touch; so hard and broad, like a muscled mountainside. Many tennis players shaved their chests. His is mostly smooth, except for a small, wiry triangle straight down from his neck.

  Sara’s fingers take liberty, gliding over the power of his arms. To her, they seem to emanate strength like a magic forcefield. Their energy seems to go right to her heart, which is racing like it does when she chases a ball down a tennis court. The noise of her own breath rising and falling like the waves of a stormy beach, fill her ear.

  She wonders what is happening, if it’s happening too fast. Even in this intense moment, doubts start to make themselves heard in her head. Does Rory want her, or just her body? Sara knows she has to be careful, she has no room for error. She suddenly finds herself pulling back.

  “What’s happening here?” she asks.

  Rory hesitates like he is about to make a confession.

  “You know that first practice – how we ended up training together, that wasn’t just an accident. We were paired by skill sure, but there are a lot of other players you could have been working with that day. I asked to be put with you.”

  Sara didn’t know quite what to say. He continues.

  “You hear about people along the way of working up through the ranks. Every time I had success, it seems I would hear you did too. I kept hearing Sara Blake, Sara Blake. Who was this Sara Blake? I just had to know. And then I saw you. You were breathtaking. My heart stopped, and then I heard that you are where you are because of hard work and pure talent.”

  “You mean I am not rich,” she corrects.

  It’s a little bit of a sore spot for her because she feels like the sport should be about the game and not what money could buy.

  “Yeah,” he says. “You and I both know that there are players who get better ratings because their parents greased palms or bullied their way. I mean that doesn’t work at our level, so eventually, those things sort themselves out. I think Jack Daily and Belinda whatshername are finding that out. They aren’t bad, but maybe they don’t belong in our league.”

  Sara nods.

  “I didn’t come here to talk about them,” he says with a hungry look. “I hope it doesn’t sound too intense to tell you that I think I am love with you.”

  Sara’s eyes open wide. Did he really just say that? Life is too perfect.

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks with a hint of glee in her voice.

  “It’s not a joke,” he says.

  Sara can’t wipe the smile from her face. She loves the way he said that ‘It’s not a joke.’ He said it with such sincerity and vulnerability that Sara believes him. Rory is a tennis player, not an actor.

  “Rory,” she says. “I think I love you too. I mean, if that is what this major crush is that I have on you is called.”

  He leans in to kiss her again. It is a lo
ng kiss that neither of them wants to end.

  “I want to be with you,” says Sara impulsively. “I want to feel you inside me.”

  The words do just slip out of her mouth, but she means them. This is something she wants just for her. It is what she wants as a woman and not as a superstar athlete.

  “This will change everything,” he whispers. “You know that?”

  “I hope so,” Sara whispers back.

  He kisses her tenderly, taking her hand and places it on him. The space in the small car is so limited. There are only so many ways they could approach their desires. With his hand over hers, he guides her exploration of him. Sara’s passion for him surges, and she becomes that tiger that Rory recognized on the court that day.

  Her blood pumps wild in her veins. She crawls towards him, meaning to straddle him in the driver’s seat. He releases the seat lever. They have no choice but to open the driver’s door. They are out in the wide open, but there is no one else around to see. Sara is comfortable, and Rory is crazed with desire.

  They pause and take a moment to smile at each other. She rakes her fingers through his luscious hair, something she has been dying to do. The moonlight silvers their moment. His face is so handsome in the shadows and the light. She rises up so that he can access his pants, and together they lever his length into the readied entrance of her body. She sinks down on him with her full weight so easily.

  She arches with such total wickedness, rushed with the erotic sensuality of being so filled. She plants her foot on the gravel shoulder of the road and pushes up and down. Rory’s powerful hands grip her firm hips and forces them to and fro. He draws her down so that her hair cascades, veiling both their faces. He puts his lips to her ears to deliver a message.

  “You feel so good,” he says.

  She is not a person with a great deal of experience, but she knows what she likes, and she definitely loves the conversation. Rory is so incredibly virile, and his whispers send wires of pleasure throughout her.

  She gasps because her ears are erogenous. The whispers, the kisses just below them are electric for her. She gasps to release the sweetness building within her.

  “Okay?” he asks as he dots her face with light kisses.

  “More than okay,” she says, rocking on him.

  “You know,” he says in slow, deliberate syllables. “It only gets better.”

  She lifts up and regards him with wonder. He is smiling, flashing those perfect white teeth.

  “I know, right?” he says as if he could read her mind.

  How could it get better than this?

  He takes her mouth passionately, sweeping it with his tongue with such dominance. He is gentle but firm. The gentleman has taken a backseat to the commanding player that dominates the tennis court. He is in control, and Sara likes it that way.

  And just like magic, he trails his hot lips to her ear where he works it. Between his breath and teasing with the tip of his tongue, Sara is flooded with raw arousal. It surges through her, gathering at her core. His fingers gently ease a strap of her dress down off her tanned shoulders to reveal a cup of her lace-covered push-up bra. He lifts her heavy breast from its place and rims her tender pink nipple until it is erect in his lips.

  Sara grapples against his broad shoulders, grinding hungrily on his lap. She needs the release, and he is helping her get there. Her body is so much more responsive to him than Sara knew it could be. She knows that the ultimate is about to happen, and then it does. Little tremors from deep within begin to roll and build until her belly is clenching with sugared spasms.

  Rory presses his lips against her breast, murmurs to the gods. He is seized with a climax too that she knows, by the intense way that he holds her, is as powerful as hers. They mute their cries as best as they can, for even though it seems like they are alone, their screams would roll over the country hills and attract attention.

  Their moment peaks and then begins to ebb. They are still in the front seat of the tiny car in a space where one might imagine making love could not work. For Sara and Rory, it does. He speaks finally.

  “This is not the way I would have ever imagined myself, I mean, that is -” he says.

  “You don’t regret this, do you?” she asks, stroking his hair.

  “Not at all,” he says without hesitation.

  Rory and Sara straighten themselves. She has no regret at all. All the years of not going to birthday parties because Sara had to train, all the years of not doing extra-curricular activities in school because she had to save her focus and energy for tennis, Sara savors the moment greedily. She turns to Rory, who responds with a burst of amusement. He tenderly smooths her hair.

  “Do I look that silly?” she asks.

  He replies with an intensity that she does not doubt.

  “You look ravishing,” he says.

  Rory pulls the sports car out onto the country road. Sara notes that he seems so masterful as he drives. She literally likes it when he takes the wheel. She is panged with a moment of compassion for him though because she realizes at that moment that he’s likely led the same kind of Spartan life that she has. The scant social life, the regimented practices, a life entirely devoted to tennis mostly at the beck and call of their parents. Who took the wheel for Rory?

  The time they spent together, the moment they shared, seems like it lasted a lifetime. However, that’s an illusion, and in reality, they have only been away from the party for a few hours. They may have missed most of the dinner, but they make it back to join the celebration thrown in their honor.

  (Remember, you can read this entire story for free by downloading it from bookfunnel here:

  https://dl.bookfunnel.com/10fykck83s

  or by purchasing it for $2.99 on Amazon. I’m sorry for repeating myself, but from my e-mails it appears a number of readers missed this the first time through, lol)

  One Final Thing …

  Just a final reminder that if you did like my story, I’d really appreciate it if you left a review. Thank-you for now and I wish you all the best in the future!