Focus

I met James Neal on an unseasonably warm Tuesday in Nashville. It seems odd, looking back, that such an otherwise innocuous day would come to be marker that would essentially separate my life into two halves: before James and after. That single moment, a chance meeting, mutual smiles, a few snarky words batted between us, it altered the course of my life in ways I would never have thought possible. But I’m getting ahead of myself, which I tend to do on occasion. So, let me start again.

I met James Neal on a Tuesday. October 29th, to be more precise. The Nashville Predators had apparently defeated the Chicago Blackhawks that evening, but the only thing that mattered to me was the third shot of whiskey that was burning down the back of my throat. The week before had been one hell of test of my patience. The general shittiness had overflowed into the weekend and then on into the next week as well. That was why on a Tuesday night I was at Lou’s, planning to get plenty drunk to forget my troubles and to shoot some pool.

Lou’s was just about the only place in Nashville where I felt content at the time. Having only recently moved to town and also being the new girl at the office meant I spent a lot of time by myself, longing for my old life and wondering what in the hell about moving to Tennessee had seemed like a good idea. There was just something about Lou’s that felt like home, real home, back in Boston. I was still lonely, but the feeling seemed to bother me less the longer I stayed. Most likely because I was self-medicating with liquor, but that’s beside the point. Lou’s was and is a dive bar, nothing special and if you’ve ever been in one you know just the sort I mean. Dirty mirrors covered the walls, cracked leather stools squeaked, sports played all day long on wall-mounted TVs, and the wooden floor was always sticky. For some reason though, Lou’s attracted a strange mix of people from aging alcoholics to hipsters and, as I would come to find out, local athletes looking to unwind in relative anonymity.

That Tuesday, as noted, I was already a few shots of whiskey into my night and racking the balls on the pool table for my next game, the heavy clacking nearly drowned out by the 70s rock coming from the jukebox and general bar chatter. Lou’s had two ancient pool tables shoved way back in a dark corner. I’m pretty sure I was the only one who actually used them, which was probably why Lou himself was so friendly towards me. Getting the balls arranged in a picture perfect triangle I picked up my cue, bent down, narrowed my eyes, and found my focus. Pool always had a calming effect on me and during that time in my life it had become my one consistent companion.

My left hand cradled the cue as the fingers of my right were gently grasping tugging on the fat end of the stick. I made a few preemptive back and forth motions before I centered the cue and prepared to release it. I let go and that blue chalky tip struck the cue ball, which in turn sent the rest of the balls scattering, several of them into the deep pockets of the table. I straightened and smiled to myself. A fine break.

I moved around the table, ready to continue, but a deep voice shattered my tipsy yet meditative state. “You’ve got a good stroke.”

Startled, unaware I had been being watched, I looked quickly over my shoulder and there he was. James fucking Neal. At the time, I didn’t know who he was, to me he was just some tall, nicely built guy with luscious hair covered by a backwards cap and a ginger beard that I immediately thought would feel like heaven between my thighs. Normally I could spend days straight at Lou’s with no one saying a word to me except to take my drink order. That was just the way things were there, especially around the nearly always deserted pool tables. Caught off guard by this…ok, I admit it, this gorgeous hunk of man meat, I stumbled over my words.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, well…thanks.” I’m cringing while writing this, just as I was then, just as I’m sure you are now. Moving on.

As he smiled, I shook off my stammering embarrassment and shifted back toward my table. I felt his eyes on me, my back, the bare and pale legs exposed by my black skirt and accentuated by my tall heels. I’m sure I looked ridiculous playing pool in business attire, but it was easier than running home to change. Baring down on at the task at hand, I found my next target, leaned down, and lined it up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw James tilt his head. No doubt looking for an up skirt view. Sadly for him, my pencil skirt wasn’t that short, but he did get an eyeful of my round ass as I positioned my body practically at a 90 degree angle.

I tried not to think about him watching me; I really did. But damned if he wasn’t fine and his gaze burned my flesh like a branding iron. I felt myself flushing under his appraisal and I shook him off for the second time in about two minutes. I told myself to focus. I took my shot. Perfect hit.

Something in me (something overly needy, yes I know) made my eyes look over to see if he was impressed. James had crossed his arms over his expansive chest and he was nodding approvingly as he leaned against the wall. His eyes told me all I needed to know about what he thought of the shot…and me. But, of course, his mouth had something slick to say. “Not bad, beginners luck I’d say.”

I smiled wide; I do love to be combative and after the last couple of shit days I had had, I was ready to duke it out with someone. I sassed him right back as I scoffed, “I haven’t needed luck at the tables since I was twelve. You on the other hand, you read pure rookie. Probably grip the stick tighter than your dick when you’re jerking off.”

James let out a booming laughing that drew a few side-eyed glances from some old men occupying tables nearby. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from joining him. I do so love a man with a sense a humor.

Still chuckling he came over and put both hands on the table, lifting his head to met my eyes as I stood on the opposite side. People throw around the term “million watt smile” way too much, but honest to God, it is true in this case. His grin was infectious, magnanimous, even when he was giving me a one-sided smirk that read pure mischief. And, oh, sweet Jesus, his eyes; deep blue with heavy lids, long lashes and arching brows. Just as I was thinking I would be happy to be set adrift in those eyes, his plump lips started smiling and moving again. “Ok, smartass. Let’s make it a real game. Hundred bucks says I can take you.”

I will tell you the truth here, my heart nearly stopped at the thought of him literally taking me, right there, bent over that table for the entire bar to see, his cock working between my folds as I held on for dear life. Anyway…I took a breath and prayed my face hadn’t betrayed my filthy thoughts. I leaned forward. “You’re on, rookie. Rack ‘em.”

With another nod and a smile, James and I both stood up and he came over to my side of the table to collect the balls. Before he got started, he offered me his hand. “By the way, James Neal.”

“Sydney Moncreiff. Nice to meet you.”

James went to work. “Nice name. I know another Sidney, of the Crosby variety.”

“Yeah?” I watched him rack the balls, admiring his hands; long fingers, callouses, working man’s hands. When he turned to answer me, my gaze was drawn back to his face.

“Yeah, you’re much prettier than him though.” Here, he reached up and twirled his finger around a piece of hair at the back of my neck that had slipped from my ponytail, all the while harassing me with those eyes of his.

I felt mesmerized by his gaze and I loved having his eyes on me. The few drinks I had had already suddenly went straight to my head and I was momentarily stunned into inaction. All I could do was stand there and watch him looking at me. Eventually I cleared my throat and struggled to maintain the conversation. “Oh, yeah? You know this guy from work or…uh? What do you do anyway?”

James looked puzzled, almost like a confused puppy. Adorable. While releasing my tuft of hair, he ran a finger along my neck and jaw, which made me shiver and flush at the same time. He finally asked, “You don’t know who I am?”

Now it was my turn to be confused. “Should I?”

“You watch hockey?”

“I’m a basketball girl, actually.” James smirked as if I had pleased him in some way and then went back to racking the balls on the table. I continued, “So…what? You play hockey?”

“Yup, I play hockey. Crosby’s an old teammate of mine.”

I really didn’t watch hockey at the time and James would tell me later that this moment was when he decided that he had to have me. Apparently when every girl in Nashville is screaming your name and chasing after you, it’s refreshing to meet someone who has no clue who you are. And I can see that. Also, his fame aside, I didn’t care one bit that he was a professional athlete. All I knew was that he’s easy on the eyes and was about to lose viciously at pool.

I’ll save some time here, I beat James and took his money. No, I didn’t just beat him, I murdered him during that game of pool. The details are so insignificant and at this point I don’t even recall the play-by-play action so I won’t even try. I will, however, tell you what I do remember about that game. James racked and let me break. Before we started I pulled my hair down, letting my thick auburn locks fall around my face and down my back. Yes, it was annoying to play pool with my hair in my face, but I also saw how James reacted to it and distraction is the key to winning at pool sometimes.

I remember him countering my hair trick by yanking off his navy blue sweatshirt, leaving him in a tight white t-shirt that had risen up and given me an unimpeded view of his abs. Not to mention the full sleeve of tattoos he had decorating one arm. He was a flawless combination of bad boy with charm. Damn him. I countered this by bending over the table for my next shot and rocking my hips back and forth unnecessarily, nearly rubbing my ass against his crotch as he was standing so close to me. Though, admittedly, this didn’t work out in my favor as James then pressed his chest against my back and brought his mouth next to my ear.

“Sweet Sydney, are you trying to distract me?”

Breathless and overwhelmed by his sudden physical closeness I responded, “Is it working?”

I could feel it working, his cock was already hard and pressed against the softness of my ass. He jerked his hips forward, twice. “What do you think?” I was unable to answer, I merely squeaked out a sound and circled my hips. His teeth bit down on my earlobe and I nearly came out of my skin. The heat of his body, his woody smell left me panting as he nibbled the skin of my neck. Then he told me abruptly, “Now knock that shit off and play fair.”

Our mutual laughter broke the mood and we separated. I took my shot and we kept it clean for the rest of the game…for the most part. I did hoist myself up to half sit on the table in order to make the last shot. The shot that won me the game and James’ $100.

Otherwise we just talked, about nothing in particular and yet everything at the time seemed relevant. He laughed at my jokes, paid attention to my dull stories about work, asked me questions about my life. After so many weeks of solitude it felt nice just to have some human interaction for once. Also, the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous didn’t hurt either. The longer we played, the more I liked him. He was sweet, but not sickeningly so. We teased each other like old friends, but he always looked at me like he couldn’t wait to become my next lover.

After I beat him, I kept my celebration to a minimum, simply holding out my hand to collect my bet money. As I flashed him a self-satisfied grin, he pulled five twenties from his wallet while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you swindled me.”

Snatching the money from him I whacked his shoulder with the bills. “Hey, I told you I didn’t need luck. You’re the one who underestimated me because I’m a woman.”

“Guilty.” He grabbed my wrist to prevent me from hitting him again as I had reared back to do just that. Then, with his hand still wrapped around my arm, he moved his face unnecessarily close to mine, suddenly serious. “Sydney…honestly, this was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, I had good time kicking your ass. We should do it again.”

“What I really want to do is kiss you, but considering I just handed you a pile of money I’m afraid someone might see and think you’re a hooker.”

A slight giggle escaped my lips. “Do I look like a hooker?”

James used his free hand to palm my hip and draw my body closer to his. “Naw, you look like sexy secretary.”

He was too close, I couldn’t get enough air. I was also nearly drunk off the rounds we had shared during our game and the heat from the booze and his body were making me dizzy. I only managed to respond, “I am.”

“What?”

“A secretary. But, James?”

His mouth was so damn close to mine, our foreheads touching. I could have reached out my tongue and licked easily into his mouth, but I wanted him to take control. He whispered back, “Yeah?”

“Just fucking kiss me already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” My ass met the pool table and my thighs immediately widened to make room for him to stand between them, hiking up my skirt in the process. He released my wrist and cupped my face to tilt my head back. Before his lips came down, mine were open, ready to receive him, much like another part of my body that was nearly weeping for attention already.

His kiss, my God, that first kiss, it was everything. Hot and needy, his tongue looping around mine and exploring my mouth. His body was hard against me and under my hands as I explored its intricacies over his clothes. It was public and inappropriate and that just turned me on even more. He was groaning into my mouth, his hand fisting in my still loose hair. I felt my hips involuntarily bucking toward him, my cunt desperate to feel him inside. I had been losing myself in drinks and pool for so long that I had almost forgotten how much a man like James can take you completely out of your own head. I was lost in him and loved every second of it.

Also, I was once again filled with images of him fucking me right then and there, until a laughing voice scolded us. “Well, shit, Neal, now I know why you ditched us.”

James slowly, reluctantly broke the kiss, even as I shoved him off of me, suddenly and perhaps irrationally ashamed of my behavior. I ran my fingers through my hair and yanked my skirt down, attempting to look presentable. James just looked murderous and his eyes never left mine. The guy who interrupted was still smiling and offering me his hand. “Hey, Mattias.”

“Hello, I’m Sydney. Sorry for…whatever.”

“No problem, like I said, now I see what was alluring enough to make him abandon the party we were throwing in his honor.”

Mattias’ smile was so sweet and genuine that it put me at easy. I grinned back at him and then looked to James who was still looking quite pissed off at being interrupted. “Party?”

Mattias answered, “Yeah, our boy scored three goals tonight. Sixth hat trick of his career.”

Now I was really confused. “Wait, you guys throw a party over three goals?”

James finally broke into a smile, but Mattias looked horrified. “You telling me you don’t watch hockey?”

James answered, “Basketball.”

“Fucking hell, so you don’t know who this is?”

“Well, apparently I should, but I only know him as a mediocre pool player and a better than average kisser.”

James met my gaze. “I only rank as better than average?”

I shrugged him off. “So far.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but Mattias cut him. “Anyway, we’re gonna take off and I see you’ve got your hands full, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Nealer, yeah?”

The boys slapped palms and half hugged. “Yeah, tell the guys I’m sorry for bailing.”

“We understand.” Mattias turned to me. “And you, lovely brown-eyed lady, it was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy your night. Also, please Google what a hat trick is, yes?”

I laughed as he pulled me in for an impromptu hug. “I will, promise.”

And then we were alone once more. The way I saw it, there was really only one thing to do at that moment and thankfully James agreed; he gave me that look again. “You wanna come back to my place so I increase my rank in your eyes?”

***

James drove us to his house in that hideous white sports car of his. Though we could have been in a rusted out pickup truck for as much as I cared about his vehicle. The only thing I was thinking about was his hand on my thigh and the way he struggled to keep his eyes on the road.

As the city night went speeding by, I scooted over in my seat and put my hand between his thighs in return, squeezing down just below where his dick should be. Then, I started kissing up the length of his neck and nuzzling his beard. His skin was clean, but salty with sweat and his hair smelled unwashed yet perfectly masculine. “Mmm, don’t make me Google it, tell me why a hat trick is a big deal.”

For a moment he only let out a breath and shifted in his seat. He eventually answered, “Well, uh, it doesn’t happen every day.”

“Uh-huh. And?” My hand was inching slowly upwards as I dipped my head lower to peel his shirt down and lick his collar bone. Jesus, I wanted him, badly.

“Fuck, Sydney…”

His voice…the way he said my name, it was too much. I sat up abruptly and moved both hands to work his belt and jeans loose. When his eyes met mine they were dark with lust and he was nearly panting. I pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning his head back to face the road. “Keep going and don’t crash. Tell me more. I need to make sure I’m rewarding you properly for this feat, especially since I made you miss your party.”

By now I had his cock free and my fingers wrapped around it. He was perfect: long, thick, and already oozing precome. Although, as much as I was enjoying his dick in my hands, he hadn’t yet responded, so I started to tuck him back inside his boxer briefs.

“Alright, alright, just…don’t stop.” I smiled and leaned down, sucking just the tip of him between my lips before flicking my tongue and licking at him. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re gonna kill me.”

I looked up at him. “Focus, Neal.” My mouth returned to his cock and he continued.

“Some players get them more often than others, some never. I, uh, um, shit. This is…my fifth. Sixth. Fuck. It’s not easy to do, takes…focus. Sometimes scoring one goal in a game is hard enough, but three…that’s…it’s something… And I - shit.”

James cut off just as I took him down my throat, leaving not even an inch of his ample member untended to. I don’t always like sucking dick, but with James, he was so vocal with his praise, so appreciative for every little thing I did, it made the act almost as pleasurable for me as it was for him.

I let him cease his hat trick explanation as I continued to work him with my mouth. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other cradling the back of my head, helping set the pace he wanted. I worked a hand between his thighs and cupped his balls as I hummed around his dick, taking him as deep as I could. And that was how he came, burrowed down my throat and with my name on his lips.

When he was done, I licked him over a few times before tucking him away. I hadn’t realized we had stopped until he grabbed my face with both hands and kissed the hell out of me. When we broke apart I saw we were in the driveway of a house way too large for bachelor. I would come to know every inch of that home over the years, but that night it was all a blur.

His hand held mine as he tugged me along up the path to the front door. He fumbled with the keys as I slipped my hands under his shirt from behind just to get a feel of his skin. Inside, he pressed me against the door and put his mouth back to work against mine and then down my throat.

I thought I was quietly murmuring his name, but my voice echoed off the walls since his home was relatively devoid of furnishings. When his deft fingers started to unbutton my shirt, I moaned in response and we both smiled at the loudness of the exclamation.

Freed of my shirt and standing in front him in my bra and skirt, I yanked off his t-shirt and in the process flipped off his cap as well. Then I did what I had been thinking about all night - I sunk my fingers into that thick, dark hair of his and went right back to kissing him.

James worked off my bra and then my skirt. I stepped out of my shoes and he slid my thong down my legs, leaving me entirely naked in his arms, still pressed against the door. All through his stripping me down I only wanted to touch his hair. It sounds silly, considering the man was shirtless in front of me and so beautifully well-made, with soft skin and tight muscles. I had already seen and handled his flawless dick, but once I had my fingers in his locks, that was all I wanted to touch. And he reacted to it too, groaning at every tug, humming contentedly when I gently massaged his scalp. Still, after all our time together, my favorite part of his body is that wonderful head of hair he is so proud of.

When I was finally able to tear my attention away from his now rumpled hair, I saw him drinking me in with those intent eyes of his; both massive hands softly kneading the rounded flesh of my hips.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, Syd.”

“Mmm, thank you.”

“And I really like this.” He ran a palm over the swirling vines and flowers that had been tattooed across my stomach and that extended over the skin of my left side and part of my back.

His touch was gentle and teasing, his gaze alternating between taking in my body and watching me watch his hands move along my skin.

My eyes closed and I leaned my head back. “James…please.”

I heard the smirk in his voice as he kept up his innocent touching of my sides, hips, and outer thighs. “Please what?”

I snapped my eyes open and grabbed his hand, guiding it between my thighs until I felt two of his fingers nestle in the warm wetness there. “Ugh, yes, yes.”

I hooked one leg around his waist and I kept my hand on his wrist, but he did the work, dragging his slicked up digits along my slit and then rubbing just the tips around my clit. He slipped inside me once more and then came back to rub at that nub with renewed vigor. His eyes had never left mine and when he started to speed up, I just shook my head.

I panted out, “Later. Later you can fuck me hard and fast. Right now, go slow. Slow, James. I just wanna feel you.”

Wordlessly he just that did. His touch lingered on the walls of my cunt as he lightly drummed his fingers on my g-spot. When he rubbed my clit, it was sweet and tender, a whisper instead of a shout. His contact with my flesh was minimal and he kept moving slow, painfully slow. And it drove me wild. I was starting to thrust against him, wanting to come, but also loving the drawn out sensations he was giving me.

I let out a tiny whimper and James removed his hand. Before I could protest, he guided me toward the staircase that stood in front of the door and had me sit on the fourth or fifth stair. He dropped to his knees and ran his tongue up the inside of my thigh, still so very slow. I widened my knees, opening up for him, baring myself to his mouth. Just as I thought it would be, his beard was rough on my inner thighs as he dragged in along my skin while planting opened mouthed kisses on his way to my dripping cunt. When he finally licked up my slit I practically screamed his name.

“Yeah, louder.”

I complied as he sucked at my clit, chanting his name over and over again, gradually increasing the volume until I was actually screaming out for him. He alternated licking deeply inside me and laving at my clit until I was desperate to come. I pleaded with him to let me do so.

He sat up slightly, “I don’t know, Syd. You told me you wanted me to go slow, now you want me to speed it up?”

“Yes, yes, please, James. I…I need to come, please.”

He sat up fully and brought his hand to my throbbing center. “I want you to come like this, slow.” He started making lazy circles around my clit with one finger. I whimpered in response. His tone of deep, but quiet. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Fuck, James. Just like that, slow, but harder. Press - yes, yes, just like that.”

I felt his free hand move and cup one of my breasts, pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger. My entire body was rising toward his touch and he played the sensations of my skin like a master. “Good, this is how I want you to come. Slow. Come for me, Syd. Just. Like. This.”

Two more circles around my clit and I was gasping for breath, coming long and hard as he just kept going. When it was over I felt my body go limp and then the warmth of James’ skin was covering mine. I opened my eyes and met his beautiful, proud gaze. “Goddamn, Neal. I mean…Goddamn.”

His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he planted a few sweet kisses on my cheeks and lips. “I’m just getting started.” He pulled me up and I found out that those shapely biceps of his weren’t just for show. He lifted me easily off the ground and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me up the stairs.

His bedroom was simple, big bed, a dresser, walk-in closet, clothes all over the floor. I found myself plopped down on top of his black comforter, which was the sort of fluffy thing that made you want to stay in bed for days. Though the man in front of me was enough to make me want to do that anyway, regardless of the thread count of the sheets.

He quickly lost his jeans and boxer briefs. Seeing him entirely stripped was a thing of true beauty, let me tell you. He was all broad shoulders, strong thighs, and his pelvic muscle separated his upper and lower body with a perfect V shape. Had I known hockey players were rocking all that yumminess under their pads, I might have started watching the sport a little sooner. My view was taken from me too soon when he planked his body over mine, kissing me languidly.

His hot, hard, and heavy cock nudged my outer lips as he rocked his hips gently, but he was in no hurry. My first orgasm out of the way, now I was the one who wanted to get things moving. I spread my legs further and whined impatiently as he continued to kiss me tenderly. His mouth moved along my jaw, softly muttering my name as he cupped my face with one hand.

“James, James, please. I take it all back, everything I said about going slow. Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm, I’m going to, when I think you’re ready.” He lifted briefly as he moved to work the other side of my neck with his lips and tongue. His hips continued to shift against my body, but he refused to slip inside me.

“Ugh, James…please.” I came up on my elbows and bit into his neck. “Fuck me, use me hard. Take me as your prize for that hat thing.”

“Trick, hat trick, baby. And you’re not some prize that I’m going to claim.”

I pulled back to meet his eyes. “So, what am I?”

“A gift, one that I intend to savor.”

“Ugh, Jesus, Neal, then get your cock in me and get to the savoring part because I’m fucking dying here.” James laughed and I gasped as he shoved inside me, filling me to the brim with his thick length. “Oh, God, yes. Thank you.”

“Happy?”

“I will be when you start to move.”

“You’re bossy as hell, you know that?”

“You love it. Now fuck me like you mean it.”

James complied, pulling out and thrusting back in with an intensity that made my vision blur. He held his upper body up with one arm and used the other to bend my left leg at the knee, forcing me to take him deeper, and then deeper with every stroke. When I wrapped both legs around his hips, he used his free hand to toy with my nipples. Then, dipping his head he brought his lips around one taunt peak and sucked hard.

I felt my body flush and buck in time with his. My eyes closed against my will; I wanted to watch his every move, but I was only able to keep them open for short periods of time. When his mouth moved to my other nipple I clenched around him, sucking his cock deeper within my cunt until I released and came while wrapped around him. James fucked me through it, kissing the tops of my breasts, rubbing his ginger beard on my skin.

After that orgasm I let him slow things down again. The man has some kind of stamina because he made lazy love to me for a good long while until I felt liable to explode again. This time, instead of asking him to go faster, I just took what I wanted.

Using all the strength I had left I managed to flip him onto his back and straddle his hips. Without missing a beat, I started to ride him and he looked positively pleased as punch to see me do so. I put both my palms on the wall over his bed for balance and thrust my hips down and back, impaling myself on his cock.

James looked like he was in heaven. “Oh, fuck yeah, Syd. You’re so good. So good.”

When his thumb made contact with my clit I straightened my back to allow him better access. My strokes got sloppy and once more I tightened around his cock.

“You gonna come for me again?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh, fuck, James…” For the second time that night I came while he was buried deep inside me. In the midst of it I felt him still and his hand squeezed my thigh as he also released.

Exhausted, I basically fell off of him and collapsed by his side. His breathing was as ragged as mine and together we filled the air with satisfied exaltations.

Then, he just looked over at me and smiled. His hair (yes, sorry, I’m talking about his hair again), which was normally slicked back had fallen across his forehead. I brushed it back, enjoying how silky it felt now soaked with sweat.

The first thing he said to me when it was all over was, “I love that you can come while I’m fucking you.”

“Yeah, me too, believe me.”

“Do I rank higher than better than average now?”

“For sure, top five, at least. Though, if you wanna have another go when you’re ready, that may improve my opinion even more.”

James laughed and rolled to face me, throwing an arm over my hips in the process. “I’d love to, I really would, but…I have an early practice tomorrow.”

“Oh.” My first thought was centered around what an idiot I was for thinking there would be more to us than that. Of course he was making excuses; he wanted me to leave. He was a professional hockey player for crying out loud, he probably picked up girls in that bar after every game. I freed myself from his arm and sat up. “Yeah, ok. I’ll, uh, get my stuff and get out of your way. I can call a cab so don’t worry about it.”

I tried to stand, but his hand around my bicep stopped me. “Sydney. Look at me.” I turned and met his amused face. I wanted to slap him, but then, he spoke again. “I only meant that I should probably get some sleep. I wasn’t brushing you off. I want you to stay. Please stay.”

My little heart soared and my smile threatened to expanded clear off my face. “Really?”

“Yeah, come on. You didn’t really think I was gonna kick you out of bed, did you?”

I did, in fact, but I played it cool. “Nah, I was just fucking with you. Got something I can sleep in?”

He waved a hand toward his closet. “T-shirts are on the left. Take whatever you need.”

We both climbed out of bed and he hit the bathroom while I raided his closet. Way in back I found a bright yellow practice jersey and pulled it on. Hockey sweaters aren’t made of the softest material, but it smelled like him so I reveled in it immediately.

He walked back in just as I was flipping back the comforter. “Jesus, that looks good on you.”

“Thanks. What’s the A stand for?”

“Alternate captain.”

“Oooo, captain, huh?” We had both crawled under the covers and I snuggled up under his arm, resting my hand on his stomach as he laid on his back.

“Sort of.”

“Next time we fuck, can I call you captain?”

“Ugh, Sydney, it’s bad enough I had to see you in that jersey with your ass hanging out, but no more talk of fucking and pet names tonight, ok?”

“Mmm, whatever you say…captain.”

***

The next morning I woke up early and crawled out of bed without waking James. I needed to do some investigating. Downstairs I got cozy on his overstuffed couch and started searching on Youtube. I watched his hat trick from the night before. Then his fifth from the playoffs the year before. Then I got lost in videos of him throwing punches and swearing at opposing teams. I didn’t even hear him come down the stairs, so I jumped when he leaned on the back of the couch and looked over my shoulder.

He kissed the top of my head. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Mmm, morning. So, the Real Deal, huh?”

He shrugged. “That’s what they say.”

“You’ve gotten into quite a few fights.”

“Not that many. And we hockey player types call that dropping the gloves.”

“Hmm, good to know.” I turned back to finish the video I had been watching.

James pinched my cheek sweetly to get my attention. “Hey, you wanna come to the game tonight?”

I turned and knelt on the couch to face him, his hands immediately came to my bare hips. “That depends, you gonna score another hat trick for me?”

“No, that’s not likely to happen. I’m James Neal, not Wayne Gretzky.”

“Who’s -”

“Oh my God, seriously? You don’t know who Gretzky is?”

“Should I?”

“Sydney, come on, yes!”

I pulled his face closer to mine. “I gotta be honest, I’m only interested in one hockey player and it’s definitely not Wayne…whoever.”

“I can live with that. So…you coming to game?”

“Hmm…maybe. You gonna give me a private tour of the locker room afterwards?”

“I take it back, you’re uninvited. I’ll never be able to focus knowing you’re there thinking about banging in the locker room.”

I laughed against his mouth and the kissed him briefly. “I’ll behave, promise. But seriously, you gonna bang me in the locker room or what?”

“You’re terrible.”

“You love it, Neal.”

“Yeah…I do.”

Notes