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She makes a clucking sound. “He’s fine. He’s really liking his new home—”
“Home?” I echo, confused.
“Yes, Soren. Your dad suffered a few strokes, and he’s been in and out of homes for the past few years. But this new one—”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” I thunder, the news hitting me hard. “Do you really hate me so much you don’t think I deserve to know my dad had strokes and isn’t living with you anymore?”
She sighs again. “I knew you would make it all about you. That’s what you do, and I just can’t deal with your tantrums right now, Soren.”
As I listen to her go on and on and on about how inconvenient it is for her to have to talk to me, I realize something I’ve had people tell me for years, but that I never really believed; I’m not the fucking problem here.
“You know,” I say, interrupting whatever she was saying. “I’m going to be a dad.”
She inhales sharply. “Soren, I’m happy for you. But what does that have to do with me?”
The laugh I let out isn’t happy, it’s as broken as I am. “Nothing, actually. Nothing at fucking all. I’m telling you because this is the last time I’ll call you. If you haven’t already, I want you to update your will to exclude my name.”
“We did that years ago.”
I nod, guess I already knew that. Or at least suspected. “That also means that when you’re too old to wipe the drool from your chin and the shit from your ass, don’t call me. Don’t have anyone else call me. I’m done.”
“Here we go again. You have this pathological need to make everything about yourself—”
“Maybe,” I concede, not caring enough to argue with her. “But this decision is for my family, one you’ll never be part of. So kindly fuck off.”
Mickey
Ipause outside Gail’s room, my hand hovering over the doorknob. It’s late, and I went to bed hours ago, but I can’t sleep. I’ve been twisting and turning, trying not to focus on the Gail-shaped hole when I try to get comfortable without her body close to mine.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the door and stride inside. The room is dimly lit by the hallway light filtering in, shadows dancing across the walls. My gaze darts around the space, landing on a pair of lacy black panties crumpled on the floor.
A surge of heat races through my veins at the sight, arousal stirring in my groin. I shouldn’t touch them. But the temptation is too much, the need to feel the soft, silky fabric between my fingers overwhelming my better judgment.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m bending down to retrieve the scrap of lace. Christ, although they’re dry, I can smell her delicious pussy. The musky scent of Gail’s arousal assaults my senses, igniting my desire.
The memories of our times at Cupid’s Court flash unbidden through my mind—Gail writhing between Soren and me at the club, her cries of pleasure echoing in my ears. I shake my head sharply, trying to clear the images, but it’s no use. The damage is already done. My cock throbs in approval as I clutch the panties tighter in my fist.
Lying down on the bed, my hand moves of its own accord, slipping beneath the waistband of my sweatpants to grip my erection. A hiss escapes through my teeth at the contact. Fuck, it feels so good. With a low growl, I wrap the underwear around my aching cock and continue to pump.
In my mind’s eye, I see her on her knees before me, those bright blue eyes gazing up at me hungrily. As I stroke myself, I do so to the memory of her lips wrapped around my cock, the warmth and wetness of her mouth as she takes me deeper. Her moans, her cries… fuck, when she begged for more.
A groan rumbles in my chest, my hand speeding up against my will. The coil of tension in my belly winds tighter and tighter. I’m losing control, but I don’t want to come yet. I let go of my cock and push down my boxer briefs to free my length.
I bring the panties to my face so I can sniff them again. Her scent is all around me, enveloping my senses—the smell of her, the fantasy playing out behind my eyes. Jesus, right now, the time I’ve spent hating Gail seems like a huge waste.
Pleasure still courses through my veins, and I fist my cock again. Thrusting into my hand as I lick across the crotch part of her panties, groaning when the taste of her hits my tongue. That’s pretty much all I need.
My balls tighten, and I feel the telltale tingle at the lower part of my spine. My orgasm hits me like a wrecking ball, intense and earth-shattering. I bite down on the panties to muffle my moans as I spill over my fist in hot, wet pulses.
Without caring, I wipe my hand on the sheet, and roll to my side, intending to go to sleep. Just as I’m drifting off, I feel movement next to me. “Gail?” I ask, immediately awake as I sit up.
“No. So keep your hands to yourself.” Soren’s rumbling warning has me chuckling as he gets in next to me. I know the exact moment he notices the wet patch I’ve left, because he lets out a string of curses and pulls his t-shirt off, placing it beneath him. “You’re so fucking messed up,” he grunts.
“Guess I’m not the only one missing her,” I quip, closing my eyes again.
“No shit, captain obvious.”
Even sleeping in Gail’s bed, surrounded by her scent, doesn’t give me the blissful sleep I need to keep up with the grueling training Coach puts us through on the ice. During our practice, I notice Sawyer shooting us questioning glances, which both Soren and I skillfully ignore.
