The Games We Play

James avoided Ali, and Ali avoided James. That is…until they got into bed together that night.

On one side, Ali wondered what he did all afternoon. Sulk in the bedroom? Come downstairs for a round of X-box? Did he eat anything?

On the other side of the bed, James was wondering where Ali had gone. He heard her leave earlier, but then fell asleep. Hours later when he awoke again, she still wasn’t home. It worried him all evening where she’d gone.

But neither let on that one was worried about the other.

James glanced over at Ali when she first slid under the covers. She immediately rolled onto her side facing away from him, the curve of her back and her long hair his only view. He debated saying something, but chose not to. I’ve already say more than enough. She was likely still pissed at him, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt. All he felt was empty.

With her eyes closed, Ali sensed James’ hesitation beside her. He didn’t move to snuggle up to her, nor did he move to turn away from her. She waited, wishing he would do something. What she really wanted was for him to hold her.

That never happened, though. James fell asleep on his back, and after minutes of waiting and wishing, Ali fell asleep on her side.

* * *

The next morning, James was gone. No note, no text. Nothing.

Ali knew he had practice first thing, so she wasn’t worried…but she wasn’t happy either. In fact, she hated the look on her face that she saw when she entered the bathroom. Small, dark bags were under her eyes and her mouth and eyebrows pinched because of the stress she carried with her. A shower didn’t help, and a quick stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for coffee and a breakfast sandwich didn’t do the trick either. In fact, she felt gross after eating the sandwich. When she walked into work, the first thing she did was grab a water from the vending machine. The caffeine from her coffee was eating at her stomach, making her feel even more upset than she already was.

Or maybe it’s because I have no fucking idea what’s going on in my relationship right now.

John noticed something was wrong with Ali right away. She wasn’t her usual, chipper self, so when he asked if she wanted to talk about it, she shut him down almost immediately. He didn’t say much to here after that.

It was for the best, really. Ali was a bag of nerves the rest of the day. She put on the best fake smile she could whenever she spoke with a guest, but the minute they left the desk, she sighed and went right back to her agitated thoughts. She thought about the good things Maureen told her and the helpful advice she passed on, but it didn’t do much to calm her as her mind raced and raced.

Ali wound her finger in the chain of her diamond necklace, staring blankly at the floor when John brought her a to-go container of fruit salad. “Here, you gotta eat something.”

She took the container with a forced smile. “Thanks, John. Sorry I’m such a mess today.”

He handed her a plastic fork. “Well I now know better than to ask you if you want to talk.” Even after Ali snapped at him, John still managed to keep his happy face on.

“I’m the worst, aren’t I?” she said sadly.

“Yes, but I love you anyways.”

“At least someone does.” Ali pushed a piece of cantaloupe around with her fork. When she looked up, John had a hand on his hip, one eyebrow lifted.

“Excuse me?”

They stared at one another.

“It’s hard to be down in the dumps with you looking at me like that” Ali said, smiling.

“Ahhhh, but look!” John poked one of her dimples with his finger. “At least this appeared!”

Ali tried to make it look like she didn’t want to smile, but with John it was damn near impossible. He knew how to make her feel good, even when he had no idea what was going on.

She stabbed a strawberry with her fork and ate it. As she chewed, John continued to watch her right up until she swallowed.

“This is really good.”

John snapped his fingers. “I’ll fix you yet, Allison.”

Ali rolled her eyes and fed herself another piece of fruit, feeling slightly better.

* * *

James felt like absolute shit. Practice was terrible because of the mood he was in, and he worked through it with the hopes of some sort of text or call from Ali afterwards. Instead, there was no text on his phone when he was back in the locker room, and there was no note at the house either.

Fuck. She really is pissed.

He didn’t want to think about it, but it’s all he could think about. On the ice, he saw her face. When he shot at the net, he saw the horrified look in her eyes when he’d yelled at her. When he ran drills, it was her voice he heard, not Bylsma’s. The guys noticed something was wrong, but James hid it well. There wasn’t a chirp he didn’t match all morning, and it kept any evidence that he was distraught hidden for the time being.

After a quick nap, James woke up and immediately reached for his phone. There was nothing but a text from Mike, which he didn’t even bother reading. If it had anything to do with Jill or her sister, he’d throw the phone at the nearest wall.

Stressed. I’m too fucking stressed.

James showered, hoping the water would do something for his sore mind and his sore muscles. It did neither. He went through the motions of washing, rinsing, shaving, dressing…but he wasn’t exactly present for any of it.

Downstairs, staring into the refrigerator but not really interested in eating anything, he noticed leftover chicken and vegetables in plastic containers.

Shit, isn’t that…….wasn’t that her lunch? She didn’t take food with her?

He slammed the door and leaned his back against it, rubbing his face.

So she’s not eating.

“Uggghhh….fuck.”

James opened his eyes, adjusting to the light in the kitchen. He couldn’t fathom why he was even upset yesterday. Everything about these fucking games was getting to him. Practice was rough, his body hurt, and his mind was taxed.

And I was doing so well.

To make the fight fair, James skipped food too. If she’s not eating, I’m not either. I’m not going to let this be a one-sided thing.

He went back upstairs and got ready for the game. As he slipped a white button-down over his arms and back, he stared into the mirror as he did the buttons one at a time. He wasn’t focused so much on the buttons as he was on his own gaze. He had bags under his eyes, his face looked worn and tired, and his hair…well that, at least, still looked good. At least I have that.

He donned the cuff links Ali bought him, if only to take a part of her with him to the game. He assumed she wouldn’t watch, and he wouldn’t be surprised or upset if she didn’t.

Going against every pre-game ritual he had, James went straight to the garage, got into his car, and sped off to the arena. He would be several hours early, even earlier than Crosby, but at least he’d have the locker room to himself for a bit.

It turned out to be the only time James had to himself the rest of the night. Once the rest of the guys arrived, he quickly got distracted. Warm-ups and the normal hustle and bustle of the crowd gave James enough energy to keep him going…and for a while, he forgot about his life outside the rink.

Until everything on the rink went south. The Pens ended up losing again, this time to a score of 4 to 2.

Hours later, long after the post-game interviews and media inquiries, James sat in his car in the dark parking garage, listening to nothing but his breathing. Steady in, steady out. Regular. Consistent. Nothing like his actions and nothing like his performance. Hockey was the one thing James thought he did well and was consistently good at, but he couldn’t even say that tonight.

I need her.

James picked up his phone and dialed Ali.

One ring.
Two rings.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Three rings.

Come on, pick up the phone, Als.

Four rings.

“Hello?”

His eyes snapped open. “Ali?”

“Yeah?”

James exhaled, his eyes closing again. Thank you.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m coming home.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“Hurry” she said, and James smiled.

* * *

“Say it.”

Ali couldn’t even think straight, let alone speak.

James held her by the jaw, his eyes burning with lust. “Say. It.” He slammed into her tightness, emphasizing his point. The thrust alone caused Ali to blurt it out.

“It’s your pussy.”

A naughty smile spread across his face. “And how good do I fuck it?” He gave her another thrust, deeper than the last.

Ali was grasping at whatever her hands could find next to her. Bedsheets. Pillows. Bedframe. Wasn’t there a headboard somewhere?

James grunted, his large body slapping against hers, getting moan after moan and whimper after whimper, but not the answer he wanted.

“Say it.”

“You fuck my pussy...” Agh, fuck. “…so good, baby…”

James gritted his teeth, turned on even more by Ali’s voice, the way she said it, and the way she looked at him as she said it. He increased his pace, fueled by anger, fueled by frustration, fueled by love. He brought both of her hands above her head, pinning them against the bed.

“Beautiful” he uttered, biting Ali’s neck. “You’re beautiful.”

Ali gasped, feeling as if James was practically hitting her stomach with the head of his dick. There was no moving any part of her as she lay beneath him. Her hands were pinned, her hips being directed by all 200 pounds above her. James was working harder on her now than he did on the ice earlier that night. He was in his own head again, as he so often was, and she was merely along for the ride.

“I’m sorry” James blurted out. He kissed her, drawing from her the reassurance he needed. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Ali blinked hard, feeling James’ hot breath on the skin of her neck. Even in the middle of one of the most intense fuckings of her life, she felt her heart flutter.

He brought his mouth back up and breathed the words “I love you” into her ear. Ali moaned in response, trying to form words but unable to. It made James smile. Holding Ali still so that she was pinned beneath his body, he had full access to her and couldn’t get enough of the sight. Her face spoke of pleasure, her eyes spoke of desire, and her body was speaking to his dick that it needed every inch of him.

James rested his forehead against hers and they looked into one another’s eyes. If Ali were to look down, she would see the dick that was pummeling her, and she’d lose it. She didn’t want to yet….not yet….it all felt too good.

“Cum with me” James said, his breath ragged and uneven. He kissed Ali, wanting her…needing her. He needed to know she still loved him.

“I’m….I’m close……” Ali was squirming beneath his body, feeling the vice grip on her wrists release. When she felt James’ rough thumb press her already-swollen clit, it was all she could take. She clutched onto his back as if she was falling, holding on for dear life, unsure of where she’d land.

James felt Ali’s orgasm before she felt it herself. Her cry was loud and her body rocked as she let herself go. It was just what James needed as he pounded hard the final few times, matching his release with hers. He lifted both of his hands to the headboard, holding on to the curved wood as his hips drove his cock as far as it could go. He held himself in place there, breathing hard as the waves of her pussy tugged at him. His grip on the headboard could’ve snapped the wood in half at that moment as he leveraged himself, feeling all his stress and anger drain from every muscle. It felt incredible. Beyond incredible.

Both of their chests were heaving like they’d run a mile in a minute. In a way, they did. From start to finish, from the second James came home from his disappointing game, he needed Ali and her body and everything he loved about her. Ali loved the way James needed her, and her body proved she needed him as much as he needed her.

With one hand, James wiped his forehead, finally able to release his grip on the headboard. He groaned as he placed his hands back on either side of Ali, who was still trying to catch her breath. Her body was so beautiful at that moment: her chest rising and falling, her perfectly soft breasts contrasted by her perfectly hard nipples on display below him. Her lips were puffy and swollen from his beard and the amount of kissing they’d done, but they formed the most beautiful smile when she finally met his eyes.

“Fuck, James.”

He chuckled, coming down to his elbows. He cradled her tired face in his hands as he gazed at her. “You’re perfect.”

Ali let him kiss her, but she could hardly move her mouth to kiss him back. Every part of her existence was shooting fireworks and she needed a minute more to come back to reality.

“You gonna be okay?” James smirked as he posed the question, knowing very well she would be fine.

“Yes…”

“…I’m not sure I’ll be.” He pressed his lips to hers lazily. “I think you may kill me one day.”

She felt James trail tender kisses down her neck, around her collarbone, then back up to her mouth. She was literally drunk off of him. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t really see straight, and she was pretty sure everything below her waist felt like Jello. It was every sign of being drunk, and James was her drink.

When he rolled off of her, Ali already missed him. She would’ve moved, but she couldn’t. She was almost certain he’d put a dent in the mattress where her body was. Regardless, they lay a moment longer, their breathing finally settling to a more normal level.

James felt whole again, even though he’d just given the last ounce of himself and his energy to Ali. When their eyes met, so did their hands. Their fingers laced together, still sticky with each other’s sweat and warm to the touch. They remained this way for a while, resting and just being together. Ultimately, one of them had to move, and James was the first to do so.

“Shower?” he asked, pointing as he stood.

“Give me a second…”

Standing there naked, his dick still coming down and his hair resembling a homeless person’s, James did that little move Ali adored most: he scratched at his hair and grinned.

“Should I wait? Or—“

“—Just go, silly. I’ll be in…you know, when I can MOVE again.”

James laughed and disappeared into their bathroom. Ali tried to sit up, feeling the full effects of the pounding she just received deep in her abdomen. Wiping her face of what sweat was left, she inhaled and exhaled hard, gathering herself. With some regret, she stood and made her way to the shower.

Ali often wondered if there was anything better than sex with James, and indeed there was: it was taking a shower with him. With her senses heightened after such an intense orgasm, Ali swore she saw every individual bead of water trickle down every line of his body. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrower waist, hair and tattoos and that grin he was always giving her…it was a sight to behold.

I literally am drunk she thought. I have to be. I might be downright hammered.

When they finished, the pair toweled off, staying in one another’s arms as their warm bodies embraced once more in a tender kiss. If Ali thought she was drunk, James was right there with her. The level of frustration from their fight and his team’s loss earlier that night was all but completely evaporated, and he felt amazing.

Ali sunk under the sheets in bed, feeling weariness finally take over. The shower made her even droopier, and if James didn’t hurry and join her, she’d be asleep in thirty seconds flat.

When he emerged, toothbrush in his mouth, Ali flipped onto her side with her head against her hands. She didn’t care that she was straight-up admiring the sight of a still-naked James brushing his teeth. He could’ve been changing a light bulb and she’d ogle him all the same.

He smiled at her, white foam around his lips. “Perv.”

Ali rolled her eyes, watching him disappear again behind the doorway. When he finished and flicked the bathroom light off, he came to her side of the bed bent to kiss her. “You’re still gorgeous.”

“You too, stud.” She kissed him again, her hand slipping around his neck to hold him there just a moment longer. Her fingers played at the longer ends of his hair.

“Hold me tonight?”

James nodded. “All night.”

When Ali felt him slip into bed behind her, his body enveloping her smaller frame into his, she fell asleep smiling.

* * *

James shuffled downstairs the next morning, feeling every muscle in his back hurt. There wasn’t an inch on his body that didn’t feel tight, from his legs up to his neck: all evidence he’d gone too hard. He assumed last night’s fuckfest with Ali probably wasn’t the best idea after the game, but he’d gladly take whatever muscle pains he had because of it.

Ali was in the kitchen making coffee when James entered, black-rimmed glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, his blue-green eyes somehow appearing even larger behind them. It was the comfortable James she knew and loved. His hair was a disastrous mess, and his sweatpants hung low enough on his waist that the defined v-shape of his muscles were out for Ali to gawk at. And gawk she did.

“Morning, babe.”

“Morning.” James walked right into her, his chin going to the curve of her shoulder. He stood there, lazily holding her and resting his face close to hers. “Mmm. You’re so warm.”

“You would be too if you put a shirt on…..but please don’t.”

James smiled against her neck before planting a kiss there. “Please tell me there’s coffee for two.”

“Of course.” Ali handed him a mug, admiring just how sloppy his hair was as he turned his back to her. There was a flat spot where his head had been against his pillow, but the rest stuck up in every direction. The aroma of the coffee filled the room as James poured some for himself, and then some for her.

“So last night was crazy.”

“The game, or the sex?”

James’ eyes crinkled happily behind his glasses. “Both.” He took a sip, letting the strong flavor spread through him, warming him from the inside out. “But mostly just the sex.”

“And here I thought you were referring to the game” Ali teased.

“I’d rather not remember the game.”

“Fair enough. No more shall be said.”

Ali gave him a smile as she took a seat at the kitchen table. James watched her, noticing how much more graceful she was in the morning compared to him. Her hair looked soft and shiny despite how messy it was pulled up into a ponytail. She flipped through a magazine that remained on the table, slightly hunched over and the curves of her breasts visible in the low neckline of her tank top.

“So are we going to talk about it?”

“The game, or the sex?”

“Our fight.”

Ali smiled. “I knew what you were getting at.” She closed the magazine and faced him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I do.” James sat down across from her. “I want to apologize.”

Ali’s heart swelled a little. She watched James struggle to find the words, his deeply colored eyes tormented behind his glasses.

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said that shit the other day.”

“Me either. It hurt.”

“I know it did” he replied quickly, looking at her. “And it hurt me too, believe it or not. When you were so far from me in bed that night, everything just felt off. It wasn’t right.”

“If it makes you feel any better…I was wondering why you didn’t cuddle up to me.” She gave him a small smile. “So I was in the same boat.”

James shook his head in disgust. “I’m just really sorry. I’m not good at this, am I?”

“At what?”

“At this whole wedding thing.” He shrugged the shoulder covered by a tattoo. “I’ll probably suck at being a husband, too.”

“James, don’t be stupid.”

“Already have been.”

She sighed. “Just answer me this: did you mean what you said? Be truthful.”

“Which part?” James looked at her sadly.

“The part about you not caring about the wedding—“

“—Ali, that’s the thing, I do care” he replied. “It’s why I can’t figure out what reason in the world would justify what I said to you.”

He leaned forward and placed both of his hands on her slender knees, looking straight into her hurt gaze.

“I know why I said it, but it doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry I hurt you, and us.”

“You didn’t hurt us.” She hesitated, a slight amount of fear slipping into her eyes. “Did you?”

James smiled. “No, babe. Not on my end, anyways.” He saw her exhale a little. “And this wedding—No, our weddng – it is important to me. YOU are important to me.”

Ali watched as he lifted her hand, the hand that contained the ring, and kissed each of the fingers, ending with her ring finger. It was the same way he kissed her hand in Aspen. At that moment, if Ali had to name one emotion she saw in James’ eyes, she would have guessed it to be fear. He was actually scared…or maybe he was fearful, or frightened…whichever label, it was in his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, James” Ali told him. “Okay?”

“Okay.” His body immediately relaxed.

“I don’t really care about what shade of purple our table clothes are, side note.”

James laughed. “What?”

“I don’t. I could care less.” She shrugged indifferently. “In fact, whoever ends up coming to this thing can eat on the floor for all I care.”

The smile that made its way onto Ali’s face at that instant made James laugh even more.

“I love you, Ali.”

She ruffled his hair. “Love you too.”

* * *

Notes

~~ I'm shooting for the end of the story to be between chapters 90 and 100...so we are approaching the grand finale as we speak.

Well....maybe a little ways to go yet, but just wanted to let you know my timeline here. :) Thanks to all! ~~