Ali opened her eyes, only to discover her vision partially blocked by a tattooed forearm. She lay on her side, James snug behind her. She blinked, and the light streaming through the heavy hotel curtains played tricks on her eyes. There was a dull throb in her temples; a reminder of the one-too-many shots she may have done. She attempted to shift her position, but it was no use. The way she was enveloped in James’ arms left her no choice but to remain a willing prisoner.

Shifting her eyes up, she could at least catch the neon green glow of the bedside clock: 7:15 am.

Way too early, her head seemed to say. The glow of the digital numbers made the throb in her temples grow.

Next to her, James sighed sleepily. His gentle breath tickled the skin of her shoulder where his head rested.

“Was wondering when you’d get up” he mumbled.

“You’re awake?”

She felt James nod behind her.

“For how long?”

“Longer than you.” His arms tightened about her. “Didn’t want to let you go, anyways.”

It was stupid how strong he was. Granted, he wasn’t built like a cinder block, but those arms contained a subliminal strength in them Ali was continually surprised by. In response, she snuggled further into him, hips tight against his.

“I didn’t go too overboard last night, did I?” she asked him.

A faint laugh was felt on her shoulder. “I think you held up well against the guys. Probably more than that. Hell, even I was impressed. Since when do you do straight tequila?”

Ali smiled into the pillow. “Wasn’t in the mood to waste time.”

“Busting out the big guns” James teased.

“I was nervous, so shut up” She squeezed his arm. “Plus I remember everything, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Nah, it wasn’t.…Do you remember the most important part, though?” James brushed the tip of his tongue over the curve of Ali’s ear, pressing a slow kiss to the skin just behind her earlobe. It sent a shot of electricity down her spine. The warmth of his tongue barely touching her was a jarring alarm for the rest of her drowsy body.

“As if I need reminding….”

“Good.” His voice lowered. “Can’t have you forgetting the main event…”

His arm moved from the dip of her waist to her hair, brushing pieces away from her shoulders. Goosebumps shot up all over her body as she felt him press another kiss against the back of her neck.

“In fact…” he kissed her shoulder, “…I think I should jog your memory, just incase…”

His arousal was beyond obvious, and Ali’s body was responding. James gently grinded his hips into hers, and she pressed back even harder.

“Your parents…” Ali breathed, suddenly unable to concentrate. “You promised to meet them—“

James turned her face and silenced her with his mouth. Ali shifted onto her back as he took one of her breasts firmly into his grip. That same hand then slid up to her neck, loosely gripping her as their mouths continued to connect. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she felt her entire body melting into a puddle that would do anything he asked, even though he never would. She was powerless against his touch that seemed to know her every nook and cranny, every sensitive spot, every need she ever had of him. Whatever it was, James would find it.

Suddenly, James pulled back, his eyes zeroing in on hers. “I’m sorry about last night.”

She looked at him, brow furrowed.

“Kelly…” he added. “I’m sorry.”

Ali bit her lip, still tasting his kiss. “It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not.”

When she looked at him this time, the shade of cerulean his eyes normally were now appeared gray.

“I know I have a reputation…” he began. “And last night was proof that I still do. But she’s nothing, okay? Chicks like her…they’re everywhere.”

Ali remembered Sidney’s words. He has to do this, he’d said. We all do.

James mouth brought her back to the moment, their lips once again connecting. He nuzzled his nose against hers.

“Just…don’t be worried, okay? We have a lot of away games ahead of us…And I don’t want you thinking they all end up that way.”

He delivered the line in a way that made Ali actually feel sad. Clearly, he was struggling with something, and he wasn’t happy with how last night had played out when Kelly arrived.

He looked at her, one corner of his mouth lifting in attempts to form a smile. Instead, he appeared apologetic and conflicted.

Ali leaned in and kissed him again, using her lips as a way to let him know it was okay. This whole thing was new to both of them it seemed, and like he said…they had a lot of away games ahead of them.

* * *

The Pens fell 2-3 to the Hurricanes two nights later.
They also fell to the Devils at home one night after that, to a score of 0 to 2.

James was not happy. Of the two points scored in those two games, he claimed neither.

He launched a puck at the boards, not bothering to try for the net.

“I’m over here!” Marc yelled, his voice stifled by his facemask.

Without responding, James hurled another puck, which zipped right past Marc’s head into the net behind.

“Okay…so at least you know.” Marc’s tone remained lighthearted.

James skated in a circle, staring down at the ice. The dull mood was shared by everyone on the team. None of them enjoyed losing, and they hated losing at home. Too many penalties, not enough kills. Not enough shots, too many misses.

“Neal.” Coach Bylsma’s voice was heard near the bench.

When James looked up, he was waving him over. He picked up his pace, skating over to where he stood behind the boards.

“Everything alright?”

James shrugged. “Fine.”

Bylsma stared at him, searching for the real answer. James revealed nothing on his face. “Gotta pick it up out there” he added, his tone serious. “Bennett’s new to the line, and Geno needs you in every zone ready for him. Let’s see that hustle you’re known for today, alright?”

With a nod, James skated off towards where the others continued taking warm-up shots. He fell in, telling himself he needed to focus on their next game, which was only one night away. It was on home ice again, against Boston. They were entering a weird portion of their schedule: three nights of hockey, one at home against Boston, one away against Boston, with a game against the Flyers to finish. It wouldn’t be easy.

James' mood followed him all the way to the end of practice. He drove way too fast through the city to get back to the house. Unsurprisingly, Ali wasn’t home when he arrived, and he thought that was likely for the best.

Plopping down on the couch, he stretched out his legs and went into autopilot. Nothing on tv, nothing to occupy his mind, nothing to get him out of his post-loss funk. He rubbed his face in agitation.

Next to him on the couch, his phone rang. He didn’t bother looking at the name when he picked it up.

“Hello.”

“Hey.” It was Ali. “Sid just texted me; said you weren’t in the best of moods at practice.”

Sid fucking texted her?

“Yeah, it happens.” When the hell did Sid start texting his girlfriend?

“If you want some cheering up, I can come home early” Ali said, her smile evident in her voice. “We gotta get you ready for Boston. Brittany will be watching, you know.”

So if Sid is texting her, do they talk about him? What else do they talk about?

“You still there?” Ali asked.

“Yeah, sorry….just a lot on my mind. You don’t have to leave work early, but thanks.”

“I was just teasing about getting you ready, ya know…”

“I know, babe. It’s fine.” James sighed. “Have a good rest of your shift.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

James stared at his phone after the call ended. The background picture was of the lake he loved back home in Whitby, a place where nothing seemed to bother him. He replaced the image with a text message, drafted for Sid:

Hey man…Give me a call, would you?

He stared at the words. What did he plan on saying to his captain, anyway? Don’t be concerned about me? Stay out of it? Don’t talk to Ali?

He pressed the backspace button until all the letters disappeared.

Everyone wanted Sidney Crosby. Anything with a vagina wanted him in them, and anything with a dick wanted to play like him. James had a hard time admitting that, but it was true, even for himself.

He typed up another text:

Ali told me you texted her. Since when did you two become so buddy-buddy?

James groaned, hitting the backspace again until a blank screen reappeared.

Deciding to not say anything at all, he exited out of the text and locked the screen.

* * *

The night of their home game against Boston, James and the team were readying themselves in the locker room. The loud sound of tape being stripped from rolls filled the air. James was readying his own stick and a couple of backups, ripping the white tape with his teeth and securing the last bit to his final stick.

He looked up to see Jussi and Sid pass by, heading to their respective stalls to finish getting ready.

“We got this tonight” Sid said to him, seeing the look in his eyes.

“Do we?” James replied.

Sid was confused at the bite in his tone. “I think we did really well this morning, everyone’s on top of their game…we’ll get it back.”

James laughed sarcastically as he secured his shoulder padding. “But if we don’t, you can always just text Ali and let her know.”

“Whoa…” Sid held up his hands. “Wait a sec…”

“It’s not a big deal” James lied, wrapping tape about his shins. He glanced up to see a somewhat taken aback Sidney Crosby. He thought maybe he should quit before he caused any more trouble.

Standing up on his skates, he had at least four inches on his captain.

“Let’s just focus on the game" he told him, then left his stall.

Sidney nodded, watching as James grabbed his helmet and headed into the hallway.

* * *

Buried under a blanket on the couch, Ali watched as the game against Boston unfolded. Right out of the gate, it had been tense. Very few smiles could be seen on the Penguins’ faces, at least from where she sat.

She took a drink of her hot tea, cringing as she heard the whistle blow for the fifth time. This time, the penalty was at least on the Bruins.

They had a long way to go, and the game was already tied 1-1. Letang had scored first, and no less than four minutes later, Boston scored. Ali watched as the Pens allowed four power plays to go without scoring. Stress was evident on everyone’s faces. Both Malkin and Crosby looked particularly strained as they did their best to use their time on the ice to try and score. Even the Bruins were struggling to one-up the Pens, despite the lack of goals to show it.

James’ line was on the ice now, and the Bruins were back to full strength coming off the penalty. The puck was in the defending zone, and Lucic was in control. James came up fast on him, digging for the puck to regain possession. There was an animated struggle, and James managed to kick the puck out enough to cradle it in his stick. He passed it off in the direction of Malkin, but was intercepted by Chara.

As the puck continued being played, three quick whistles blew. Ali sat forward on her couch. James and Lucic were in each others’ faces.

"No way" she uttered at the tv.

She could tell James was saying something sarcastic in Lucic’s direction, to which he shoved James with the shaft of his stick. A ref came in between the two, trying to separate them, but James was able to return the favor, giving Lucic a much harder shove.

Nearby, Chara and a few Penguins got into the mix in defense of James, but that only caused more tussles. Two other refs skated into the cluster of bodies, separating the teams.

Ali watched as the camera zoomed in on James being led by one of the refs towards the penalty box. He continued shouting something at Lucic, who was also being sent into his own penalty box by a different ref.

“Something going on there between those two, eh Steiggy?”

“Sure is,” Bob Errey’s voice replied. “James Neal has been on fire all night tonight, that’s been evident. He’s had seven shots on goal, though none have made it past Tukka Rask.”

The camera panned to Dan Byslma behind the bench, arms folded over his chest, looking unconcerned. He glanced down at a piece of paper in his hands and made a mark with his pen.

“Bylsma is going to need to get this team together for both of these games against the Bruins” Paul added. “These are two tough teams who both want to win bad, even this early in the season. You can see it out there tonight…Lot of emotions flaring.”

The camera went back to James in the box. He squirted a drink into his mouth, watching as his foul was replayed for the audience on the big screen.

Understanding the point the announcers were trying to make, Ali still felt like James was taking out some aggression on the ice. She hoped it wouldn’t amount to any more penalties, for his sake and the rest of the team’s. Even from her spot on the couch, she felt James’ frustration, but couldn’t figure out why there was so much of it. It was only the third week of October, and the season was young. Then again, she’d never spent a season of hockey living with a hockey player, so she had nothing to compare it to.

The penalty ended, and neither team was able to score. James and Milan dashed out of their penalty boxes and resumed playing at full speed. Thankfully, James didn’t have another penalty that night.

A few hours later, the game ended…and not well. The Pens lost 3-2 in a very close ending. It came down to the last three minutes of the game when Boston finally scored, taking home the win.

Ali wasn’t sure what to expect when James got home. Three losses in a row was a hard pill to swallow, especially when they would be playing Boston again in couple of nights, on Boston’s ice.

She was still on the couch watching tv when she heard the front door open and slam shut.

Well, at least now I know what to expect… she thought.

James appeared in the living room looking spent.

“Hey” Ali said, treading lightly.

James said nothing. He walked over and picked Ali up off the couch in one swift motion, and his mouth locked onto hers. It was quick, and Ali didn’t have time to think before she felt herself being thrown up against the wall of their living room. His hands slid up her thighs to her cotton shorts, pulling them down.

Ali was finally able to catch her breath as James moved his mouth to her neck. Her hands went instinctively to his black leather belt, pawing desperately at it, trying to loosen its grip on his suit pants. With a little less trouble, the pants came next, boxer briefs the only thing separating her from his hard dick. She never got a chance to remove those, as James had already spun her around so that she now faced the wall.

She felt her thong pulled off to the side, and two large fingers pushed into her wetness. She gasped, half in surprise, half in pleasure. She felt James go knuckle deep in her, pumping his fingers as if to test her level of readiness.

It was all so fast. She felt 60 seconds too slow, with no hope of catching up. Her eyes closed as she felt his thick erection part her folds, pushing into her and causing her to moan even louder. She couldn’t see him….she didn’t care. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking...if he was thinking at all….and she didn’t care. The only sensation she felt was his thickness diving in and out of her at a frenzied pace, filling her with pleasure that left her empty of any thought.

James grabbed underneath Ali’s tank top at one of her nipples, which responded immediately. He tugged on it, eliciting another moan from Ali, his hips continuing to do all the work. His breathing was labored as he pounded away, his mouth locking onto the soft nape of Ali’s neck. He was moaning as well, but he never removed his mouth from her skin. He needed every second of this, he had to feel her this way. He needed her. He needed release.

He grabbed both of Ali’s arms, locking her hands at the dip of her back, holding on to her as he drove home. Every thrust produced another moan from Ali, and every one of her moans resulted in another deep thrust. He practically had her whimpering beneath him as he felt pressure begin to build inside him. Leaning his forehead on the back of Ali’s head, he grunted as he delivered the final few pumps into her. His body rocked as release overtook him. He planted himself in Ali up to the hilt, feeling his frustration and anger spill out of him in hot spurts. Gradually, his mind cleared and his breathing slowed. He eased off of Ali, their bodies separating.

Ali was still 60 seconds behind, and it took her a moment before she could turn herself around. When she finally faced James, she saw sweat on his brow and lust still lingering in his eyes. He laughed softly, his forehead resting against hers.

“Fuck” he said, his voice weary with exhaustion.

Ali wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. Even through his dress shirt, she felt his back heaving as his breath continued to slow.

“You really need to keep losing games” she teased. James lifted his forehead, his smile appearing.

* * *