Smokeshow: A Hockey Love story

by Miller, Raine

  She pushes me to my back and climbs on top, splitting those long legs of hers over me as she repeats everything I just did. Sucking on my nipples, kissing my belly. She bites my hipbones and I laugh out loud.

  But no one is laughing when she opens her mouth and takes a taste of my cock. I watch every second, the way she licks and sucks, her tongue sweeping across the head, down the shaft. When she takes me in, all the way down, and deep-throats me, I nearly come right then and there.

  “Where did you learn such naughty things?” My voice is a desperate, needy rasp, and pointless because she doesn't answer. She just keeps doing it until I know I'm gonna come in her mouth. I can't stop myself and she won't stop sucking my cock, so it's gonna happen.

  I think words or something spill out of my mouth when I start to come, holding her head in my hands as she takes me down, her beautiful eyes staring into mine. The intense eroticism in the moment between us is something I know I've never experienced with anyone else before this night with her. And one I can never forget.

  When I can finally pull my cock out of her mouth, she swallows again and then licks her lips slowly, the wicked smile on her beautiful face teasing me mercilessly without ever uttering a single word.

  I'm in shock.

  This beautiful virgin, just deep-throated me, swallowed my cum, and then fucking smiled at me while she was licking her lips. What the fuck? How can she even be real?

  And, she told me she loves me, too.

  When I'm finally able to bring my brain back online, I pull her up on top of me again, our bodies aligned as I touch the smooth skin of her back, her ass, the backs of her thighs. We kiss some more, tasting ourselves on each other’s tongues. It’s maybe the sexiest thing I’ve ever done.

  “I’ve never felt this before. Any of this with anyone else before you,” I admit against her mouth. “I don’t want you to change anything. I don’t want to change you. I just wanna be with you...and love you. That's all I want, Zoya."

  She answers by slipping on top of me, taking my cock deep inside her…where she's warm and wet and pulsing with desire.

  Showing me how much she loves me too.

  Twenty-Nine

  Zoya

  MANNING UP

  The water is hot and comforting. Tyler massages my back as I brace my hands against the cool tiles, simply enjoying every sensation.

  “My legs feel—”

  “Like jello,” he finishes with a dark, amused chuckle. “Amazing sex can do that to a person.”

  “Was it? Amazing?”

  “Was it not?”

  I feel my cheeks heat. “For me, yes. I don't have much experience, though, so maybe not for you?”

  His arms wrap around my waist, his front to my back as he nuzzles my neck. “You are perfect in every way and when I tell you it was amazing, you have to believe me.”

  I turn to face him, letting him wrap me in his big body’s warmth. I love this, how we fit together. He makes me feel small and precious and protected, something difficult to find when you’re tall.

  “This feels so good with you—God, where have you been all my life?”

  I kiss his chest, my hands snaking down to trail along his hard, muscled abs. "I'm here now, and I feel you too," I say, taking his heavy cock in my hand and holding him as he grows long and hard.

  “Stop that or we’re heading for round two, and I know you must be sore.”

  I don’t stop, feeling bold as his cock twitches against my belly. I move one hand to stroke it, silky and long, as he rests his forehead against mine, his back arched like a cat as I pet him.

  His mouth finds mine as he lifts me up, putting himself back inside me, plunging in and out as my back hits the tiles and my fingers find purchase against the skin of his back. He's been so gentle with me, so sweet and kind and caring. But now I don't want more gentleness from him. I want him to fuck me.

  “Faster,” I beg. “Fuck me harder.”

  He groans my name and answers my call, pumping harder and faster as the water sprays us both. His mouth is hard against mine, his kisses urgent, his tongue penetrating my mouth in tandem with his cock penetrating my sex. It's deliriously good. I never want him to stop.

  We come together after a time, “I love you” on both of our lips like a sacred prayer.

  * * *

  Toweling each other off after the epic shower sex—I'm certain I will remember for the rest of my life—I can tell that Ty has something on his mind. His whole demeanor has changed, and his mood has gone to serious. I am hesitant to even ask him what's wrong when he saves me the trouble.

  “You should call your father.”

  “No. Why?”

  He holds me by the arms and pleads his case, his steely blue eyes boring into me. “I need to take you to him, okay? I need to make him understand this—what we have together. I love you, Zo. I love you so much and all I want is to make you happy and for us to be together, but he needs to believe that.”

  I bite my lip, on the verge of tears again. I'm afraid if he takes me to my father, I'll be on a plane by tomorrow morning. My time in Vegas will be over before Tyler can utter a word of explanation. I shake my head and wander away, trying to control my panic.

  "It's the only way this will ever work, Zo. You know it and I know it. You're missing in action right now, and you're with me—the enemy—and I have to make this right with them." He's come up behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder, his lips finding my cheek and kissing me there, his beard stubble brushing against my skin.

  Oh, God, how can I let him do this?

  I cannot turn back to face him again. I cannot bear to witness the pain I know I'll see in his eyes of not feeling worthy of me to my family. I know he feels that way. He said it last night. Your family thinks I’m a piece of shit and you know what? They’re probably right. I’m not good for you. You’re sweet and innocent and I'm a big dummy. I don't want to face my father just yet, because I want to hold on to this precious time with him for longer.

  But I can feel how insistent Ty is going to be on this matter, so I compromise. “If you must, I recommend you start with Pam. I'm not speaking to my brother right now, and I'm not really ready to go there with my father either. Maybe you call her and tell her I am fine and safe with you.”

  He gives my shoulder a squeeze before wrapping his towel around his waist and heading into the bedroom, dialing his phone.

  “Hey, Pam,” he says, putting her on speaker. “Just calling to check in."

  “Hey there, troublemaker. Can I assume Miss Zoya is with you?”

  “She is. She found me after the game. We’re together and she's safe. But we need some help. We need to talk to the family, plead our case.”

  “Well, you’d be pleading it to a judge if not for Georg. Kirill was ready to have the police out looking for a kidnapped coed.”

  “Yeah,” I breathe on an unamused laugh. “I’ll bet he was,” I say to Pam.

  “What is going on, guys? This the real thing?”

  “Yes,” Tyler says into the speaker.

  “Pam, we are in love. We want to give this a real try. I need Papa to understand that Tyler is a good man. That he loves me.”

  Pam considers this and takes a pause before finally saying, “I’ll do my best to get folks together and ready to listen calmly. I can't promise it'll end up that way, but I'll do my damnedest, guys.”

  What my brother ever did to deserve Pam, I certainly don't know. I remember wondering about her parents when he first told us he had a girlfriend. Did they judge my brother by the same standard as they’re judging Tyler now?

  After we hang up with her, we have a tentative plan, but I'm still nervous as hell about the whole thing. I turn to Ty and realize it's time to plead my case. “You don't have to do this. You don't have to face him. I choose you. He will have to accept that or lose me.”

  “No, baby, no." He shakes his head slowly. “You have a family that loves you. They’re crazy because they care about you. Don�
��t give that up. I don’t ever want that for you. I want him to respect me and know that I love you, and also that I respect him. I need to go talk to him.”

  I can see I am without any other options. Ty is correct even if it will hurt us in the end. It’s already hurting us. I nod and rest my cheek on his strong chest as his arms wrap around me, holding me close.

  “I still think this is a dumb idea, but I love that you want to do it. I'll go with you to talk to my father.”

  * * *

  After a few restless hours of sleep, we wake up at seven in the morning and prepare to set out for Pam and Georg’s place, where we will all meet with my father and sister, who I’ve not seen or spoken to in one week. She was very hurt. Understandably so, but still it’s another painful reminder of doing exactly what I promised not to do with Tyler and then lying about it.

  The minute we get there, I regret it. Georg looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his beard thicker than the five-o’clock shadow he usually rocks, his hair wild and untamed. He’s in a white T-shirt and cargo shorts, his feet bare, his eyes barely open as he nurses a giant cup of steaming hot coffee. The two of us do not say a word to each other. Like I said, it will be a long time before I can forgive my brother for his betrayal.

  Pam hands my father a mug, as well, but he just sets it on the table in front of him and crosses his arms, his lips a thin line, his eyes narrowing and laser focused on where Tyler’s hand is clasped with mine.

  “Papa,” I say.

  “Do not Papa me,” he snaps. “I gave you an order. Do not see him. And what did you do? You snuck away like a petulant child. You ran away to find him and left us wondering if you were hurt!”

  “Why would I be hurt?”

  “It is a big city. You just disappeared. No call, no text. You could have been kidnapped. Raped. Killed.”

  “Well, I was not killed, clearly.”

  “Don’t be smart mouth with me, daughter. This is serious.”

  “It's seriously an overreaction. I went to find Tyler and we spent the night together.”

  My father bangs his fist on the table. Georg seems to have finally found his words, saying, “Zoya, it really was very irresponsible to not leave us a message at least.”

  “I'm an adult and you all treat me like a child,” I yell. “I'm not a child. You don't get to tell me who I can see and where I can go. I do nothing wrong. I study. I take school seriously. I will volunteer somewhere. These are good things and now I have someone I love and suddenly I'm out of line?”

  “Well,” Irina says, speaking from her seat on the couch, “You made me a promise and you broke it. Is that not out of line?”

  “I am sorry, I truly am, Rina. I love you and you are my best friend. I tried to stay away from him. I went to tell him that nothing could happen, but it did because the feelings were already there. We love each other, Rina. I need you to be happy for me.”

  “Oh, well, if you’re in love then…” She still won’t look at us.

  Tyler lets go of my hand and steps forward. “Mr. Kolochev,” he says, “I am so sorry we've gone against your wishes. I’m sure Zoya has told you we started out as friends. This started in an innocent place, but our feelings grew. This isn’t just about sex—not for her, obviously, and certainly not for me. I also know she’s young. I get it. She’s your baby. It seems sudden. All of it, and I understand. But our feelings are real, and I need you to know that I do respect her. I love her. I don’t want anything other than your daughter's happiness.”

  “You are all over the Internet,” my father says. “Drinking. Whoring. You play well but you fight a lot. You are the opposite of a man I would want for my daughter.”

  “Actually, Kirill”—Pam steps in—“Tyler is a good man with a good heart. He’s a lot like Georg. He’s passionate and wild, yes, but his heart is good. He took in his young brother and sister recently. He hasn’t been out on the party scene in many months. He works hard on the ice. Georg changed…and Tyler can too. I believe he already has.”

  My father stares at Pam, his chest rising and falling as he considers her words. “Pamela, I love you like a daughter. You were good for Georg. You helped him be a better man and I thank you for this. But Zoya is barely more than a child. She is too young, and she needs to step away from this drama and come home. She needs to grow up a bit. It is clear she was not ready to come here, to be so far away from her parents' influence.”

  Pam looks at Georg and they seem to have a couples-only conference before heading out of the room, back toward the bedrooms. A moment later, they come back, except this time Haley and Logan are holding their hands.

  Tyler’s face goes white. He falls to his knees as the kids skip over to hug him.

  “Haley, Logan how’d you guys get here? Where’s Patricia?”

  “Georg and Pam gived her a break,” Logan says proudly. “They buyed us donuts!” Tyler drops his head in defeat and just hugs the kids harder.

  “We stopped at your apartment looking for you guys,” Pam says. “Patricia said she wasn’t expecting to stay all night, so we offered to take them with us, so they had a sleepover here.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Ty says, running a hand nervously through his blond hair. “Georg, Pam…I’m so. I wasn’t thinking…didn’t think to... I need to call Patricia. I’m so sorry, to all of you.” He looks absolutely devastated and broken. I can’t believe I didn’t think to raise the question of the kids again once we left the bar. This is on me, too.

  There is a moment of quiet before my father stands. “Tyler, I see you have a lot going on in your life. Important things, and I can see you are growing as a man. But this is not a good time for romance. And my daughter will always come first for me. These kids should come first for you. I have made my decision. Zoya is coming home now.”

  He places his hand on my back as he nears, turning me toward the door, ushering me out into the hallway. He calls for Irina who, without her normal commentary, stands and follows us out.

  I can’t look back or I'll lose it. I know how badly Tyler must feel about leaving the kids with their nanny all night long. I can only imagine how heavy his heart must be.

  The tears start the moment we get into a waiting town car.

  They don’t stop while I pack up my dorm room.

  They don’t stop as we head to the airport to put me on a plane back to Russia. Alone.

  They don’t stop until I finally fall asleep at thirty thousand feet.

  Thirty

  Tyler

  PLAYING WITH HEART

  One month later.

  It’s playoff season. Las Vegas has hockey fever, the energy around our bid for the Cup intensifying with each win. They should rename it Crush Vegas, for the abundance of posters and billboards and news reports about us.

  The marketing team has reintroduced the larger-than-life banners around the outside of the arena, each of us immortalized, three stories tall like hockey-playing kaiju. I should love it, should be basking in the glory of being a superstar among superstars, but really, I’m just a heartbroken kid.

  I miss my girl. I miss her so much it aches and it’s not about the sex. I miss her friendship most of all. I miss talking to the one woman who ever told me she loved me. I have the single text she sent me about an hour after her father marched her out the door. It’s clipped like she was interrupted... My best guess? Dad killed her phone before he put her on the plane back to Saint Petersburg.

  Ty...I love you. I’m so sorry...I won’t stop loving you even though I am far away. Don’t forget thaxociv,.

  I won’t forget. You. That you love me. I’ll never forget.

  So yeah... It hurts to imagine the scenario going down when she pressed send on that text. I know she got on the plane alone though. Her dad stayed in town immediately after and Irina was still around for a while. I saw her at a home game sitting in VIP behind the bench. We didn’t speak. I guess Dad wasn’t successful in getting Irina to leave before her semester finished up. I agonize about Zo
ya’s classes all the time. Did she get to complete them via distance learning? She must’ve been frantic having to just ditch the semester and the stats class she hated but worked so hard in. I know how much school means—meant to Zoya. My heart’s just fuckin’ broken. For her. For me.

  And I take full blame.

  I fucked up. And because I did, I wasted her semester on top of everything else.

  Sorta like my whole life has been fucked.

  I love you, too, Smokeshow. I’m so sorry, for everything. And I won’t ever stop loving you even though you are far away...

  * * *

  We beat out Portland in the first five games of the playoff round. Coming off a late season win against them really messed up their mojo. The games weren’t easy, per se, but Portland’s fire was dimmed and ours was turned up extra hot. I put everything I had into those games; my focus laser sharp. To be honest, I had to, otherwise I’d have crapped out thinking about Zoya.

  In between games, I’ve been trying to be a great role model for the kids. I still feel damn guilty about leaving them with the nanny the night I stayed at the Bellagio with Zoya. It was irresponsible, and I had to get down on my knees—literally—and beg Patricia not to quit afterward. She stayed, but only with a promise I’d be a model citizen.

  We all board the bus from the Austin airport to the hotel and I go straight to the back, AirPods in to avoid having to interact with the other humans. Georg won’t even look at me—it’s a miracle we can play together right now. I think he wants to kill me and I’m not even exaggerating.

  I adjust my glasses and pull out a book I’ve been reading about Buddhist philosophy—yeah, go figure. I know Zoya likes yoga, so I found a class to join and started going. I discovered right away that it really helped chill my anxiety. It’s a gift, I tell you. Seriously, I think yoga might be my single saving grace these past weeks.