Page 23 of Goalie interference

“Please, please, please,” I breathed, panting and jutting my hips at him to just touch me–finish me. “Please,” I cried a little louder, fighting his hold on me more.

“Stop,” he said firmly, releasing my neck to cover my mouth. His eyes were wide and flaring…angry. “You stop when I tell you to. Understand?”

The defiant part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off, but even with his hand removed from my neck, I felt the same controlling hold on me, only with his eyes this time.

I nodded slowly, stuttering…and not daring to move my hands when he released them.

“Good.” He let out a slow breath, shaking his head softly before checking his watch. “It’s late, Ash. You need to get in bed.” I let out a protesting whine, muffled by his hand and stopped by his hard gaze.

“Don’t start. I’m going to let go of you, and you’re going to get into bed. You’re not going to touch yourself–you're going to go to sleep.”

“But,” I managed, muffled by his hand before he dropped it for me. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered, sending something warm and tingly through my spine. “But if you listen–do as you're told…maybe when we get home, I’ll reward you for it.”

Never in my life had I been a fan of the reward system when it came to sex–it seemed dumb. Why not get me off right now and then again when we got home–that seemed like way more fun.

The strange thing about Thayer?

He made everything sound like the best idea.

Chapter 11

Thayer

The rule was for Ash, not me.

I wasn’t crossing any lines–at least not any more lines–by getting off in the shower back in my room. I was simply giving myself five more minutes of being a bad person.

Guilt racked my brain the rest of the night. I couldn't believe I lost so much control in there–I was so mad at myself. I should have just walked away–never put my hands on him again…

But I did.

And now it was too late.

Now, he consumed me.

Ash was every thought in my brain that night, plaguing me worse than any man before him ever had. I'd had my fair share of obsessive crushes over the years, but none that quite had me the way Ash already did.

This was especially rough when sharing a room with Reed. I had to act calm and collected when I got back to our room, pretend it wasn't weird that I suddenly needed to shower, just so I could get off to his best goalie. I then had to act calm when getting into bed, and pretend that answering his questions about Ash didn’t get me going again.

Nothing was ever going to wipe the memory of Ash on his knees for me from my brain–nothing.

It had been so long since I'd had a good submissive in my bed–some people could fake being into it for me, but it wasn’t the same. There was a glint in Ash’s eye tonight that I hadn’t seen in years, and I was hungry for it.

There was no doubt in my mind that Ash wanted it, but I needed him to choose it. I opened that door tonight, and I guided him–denying him tonight was just to make the choice his.

If we were going to do this–break every rule in the contract I signed and brand him for life–then he needed to know the weight of what he was saying yes to.

If this got out, it wasn’t just me and my reputation that was ruined–it was his, too. He’d be branded as gay, and worse, he’d be marked as either a victim or an opportunist.

My victim, or fucking me in exchange for a starting spot–not great options.

People were so quick to judge things–myself included. If I saw this situation in college, I would have assumed the same thing–that the coach was taking advantage of the vulnerable relationship between player and coach. That he was using his access to players to satisfy his own wants–I’d be disgusted by that guy.

And I was that guy.

Honestly, part of me wanted it to just be sexual. I almost wished I was just super into Ash and letting my dick call the shots, but I cared about him. I cared about making him feel better when he was upset, and I cared that he finally felt like he had someone he could be a little weak around.