Inspired by the fine piece of sass linked below that made me love Ryan White even more. Please do not turn the comments section into a debate about the ethics of this behavior because I literally couldn’t care less.
What a fucking idiot; I love him so much.
When asked what he thought about the Flyers’ fans throwing their wristbands on the ice during game three of the playoff series versus the Capitals, Ryan White gave the press a hell of a snarky response. With a shrug, he summed up his feelings about it, “Whatever, I love the Philly fans. I’d be doing it, too.”
Later, after the team escaped the hounding press and aura of general disappointment so thick you could cut it with a knife, Ryan headed to his car with Simmonds in tow.
“Hey, you hear about some girl getting arrested for busting a bottle over some Caps’ fan’s head in the parking lot after the game?”
Ryan immediately started laughing, because this was just the sort of thing he needed to hear after that shit show of a night. “Are you fucking serious?”
Wayne sheepishly smiled like he didn’t want to get caught being amused by it as well. “Yeah, man. Crazy night. I hope that girl’s got somebody to bail her out, or it’s gonna be a long night for her. I’ll see ya.”
“Yeah, man, tomorrow.”
Ryan made it to his car and used the rearview mirror to take a look at his forehead that was busted open. He touched the cut gingerly, wincing only slightly. It had been a rough night for everyone, but at least Wayne had given him something to smile about. He had meant what he said to the press, he really loved the Philly fans, especially the one’s who let their hatred of division rivals flow freely. Still chuckling, he started his car.
Downtown, Isabella sat in a freezing cold jail cell, elbows on her knees, head hanging between her shoulders. Under the layers of gauze there was a cut on the palm of her hand from where the bottle had broken the skin as she whacked the Caps fan over the head with it. She rubbed the cut, watching the blood seep through even more and smiled, remembering the look on that asshole’s face when she had beaned him good.
She said quietly to herself, “Fucking prick.”
She thought she was alone, but a voice answered her with a question. “Just how crazy are you?”
Isabella raised her head, expecting to see a guard she could tell to fuck off, but was greeted by Ryan White’s smiling face instead. She blinked a few times, assuming she was dreaming this, but he was still there. That was when she started to laugh.
“Um, depends who you ask, I guess.”
He stepped forward, threading his arms through the bars and resting them there. “You really hit a guy over the head with a bottle?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall before leaning back against the wall and crossing her arms over her chest. “A Caps fan. They hardly qualify as human. Fucking animals have more sense than they do.”
“So…really fucking crazy, then, huh?”
His grin was infectious and she found herself unable to hold her own back. “Yup, suppose so. Sorry about the penalty at the end there. That was our bad.”
“Game was over already, I don’t give a shit. Sorry we lost like that, you guys deserved better.”
“I’m not worried. Flyers have come back before when we were down three games to none. I still think we can take the series.”
Even Ryan didn’t believe that, but she made him almost want to. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he came to the jail, but it certainly wasn’t this woman. She was petite, but soft all over and didn’t look strong enough to push over a five year old, let alone knock a grown man unconscious with a beer bottle. And she was damn cute, especially when she gave him a smile that reached her eyes and let him know she was nothing but trouble. Crazy? Probably. Sexy as hell? Definitely. He congratulated himself on making a smart move.
He was about to say something more when a guard walked up and hauled out his keys, telling Isabella, “Your bail’s been paid. Make sure you collect your paperwork on the way out. Hearing is on Monday. Failure to appear will result in a warrant being issued for your arrest. Clear?”
Freed from the cell and shocked into silence, Isabella just nodded as she took her coat from the guard and draped it over her arms. She looked up at Ryan when they were left alone. “Did you bail me out?”
He avoided her eyes for some reason, suddenly shy at the gesture he had made. “Simmonds told me you were locked up. I called down, they said you couldn’t make bail. I felt bad. Figured the Flyers owed you one.”
When she didn’t answer, he was forced to focus those pale blue eyes on hers and she nearly collapsed from their potency. Isabella had been a Flyers fan for as long as she could remember and had meet more of them than she could count, but never had she had the sensation she had now: weak in the knees like a goddamn schoolgirl and barely breathing normally. How had she never noticed just how cute Ryan was?
Her voice finally started working again. “Well, thanks, Ryan. If you’re playing the white knight, pun intended, I could really use a ride home.”
Another very good idea, he thought. They got Isabella signed out and went to find his car, a 1967 Chevy Nova, bright orange.
She told him as he pulled away from the curb, “Nice wheels.”
“FYI, I had the car before I came to Philly. I always liked orange.”
“You look good in it.”
Oops. She hadn’t meant to sound like she was coming on to him, but after he looked over at her with a smirk, she stopped caring if she had just sounded like an ass because he seemed to like it.
He eyed her up and down, noting that she wore the t-shirt given to the fans at the game that night. “So do you.”
She thought about telling him about her lucky orange thong she had on, but figured if things kept going the way they were, he would find out about it soon enough. He drove her home in relative silence, the classic rock station playing softly on the radio. When he parked in front of her apartment building, they sat in silence for moment.
Isabella broke the peace first. “Thanks for the ride.”
He nodded instead of voicing his “you’re welcome” and then picked up her hand. “You need to change this.”
“I have stuff in my apartment. I’ll live.”
His brushed his fingertips along the blood stain on the gauze and then wispily stroked the pads of her fingers. Such a little thing, but done with such attention and care that it had Isabella on edge, caught up in the erotic sensations it was sending through her body. They both watched him do this, without comment, until he looked up and asked, “You need help getting it rewrapped?”
She found her boldness in his unspoken suggestion and scooted closer to him. Resting her unwounded hand on his thigh, she moved it steadily higher as she spoke. “Why? Because the Flyers owe me one? Or because you wanna give me this?” The last word fell from her lips as her palm rested on his cock over his sweatpants. He was already hard and her nearness hadn’t been helping; her groping of him almost had him coming in his pants.
Unable to break their eye contact, he grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand up and down along his cock. “What do you think?”
His name was whispered from between her lips and then she leaned forward, grasping his cock even tighter and kissing him. He let go of her wrist to grab her by the back of the neck, sinking his fingers into the dark hair that fell down her back. Her tongue snaked around his and he was again bowled over by her confidence and aggressiveness. God bless Philly girls, he thought.
She was tempted to crawl into his lap, but figured they had better places they could be; they were right outside her apartment afterall. She peeled her lips away from his and undid her seatbelt. Saying nothing as she got out of the car, assuming he would follow.
He was right on her heels when they came to her door and as soon as they were inside, she flicked the lights on and then it was game on. Before she even came forward to kiss him again she was grabbing the hem of her t-shirt to pull it off and then reaching to do the same to his. Right where she wanted him, now she kissed him, pushing him back against the wall with both hands on his chest as he reached behind her to undo her bra.
Isabella broke contact with his body just long enough to let the bra fall down her arms and then she was all business, kissing him deeply and reaching for the button of her jeans. She felt his hands move hers aside and he said against her mouth, “You gonna let me do anything?”
She grinned and delved in for another kiss. “Help yourself.” As he worked on her pants, she happily put her hands back on his body, feeling the hidden strength of his muscles as he flexed his body under her palms. He was still sweaty from the game, his hair a greasy mess pushed back from his face that kept falling forward as he leaned down to kiss her. She was about run her fingers through it when he distracted her with something much better.
“Oh, fucking fuck me, Ryan.” Her pants were gone and he had a hand shoved down her panties, two fingers stroking her slit as she widened her thighs.
He was panting already and the feel of her slicked up pussy made his cock throb. “You look fucking great in orange, Bella.”
“I look even better naked.” As much as it pained her, she pushed his hand away before backing up and dragging that tiny pair of orange panties down her legs. She turned with her back to him, giving him a shake of her plump ass and then sashaying towards her bedroom.
He caught up with her in the entryway, pushing her chest against the door that then banged against the wall. Pinning her in place with his bulky body, he gathered up her hair, wrapping it around his fist to free up the skin of her neck for his attentions. Isabella let him take control, keening towards his mouth and whining a little when he tugged on her hair.
He finally got around to agreeing with her. “You do look absolutely amazing naked.”
“Fair’s fair, baby.” She shoved off the door with her good hand and turned around to face him. He reached for her, but she just reached for his pants, pushing the elastic band down his hips and thighs until it bunched at his knees. She could go no further, totally enraptured by his cock sticking straight out and begging for attention.
As he finished the job, stepping out his sweatpants, she came to her knees in front of him, licking up his shaft. Instinctively, he pressed forward, pushing more of himself into her mouth, which she moaned around. She grabbed those nice, thick thighs so indicative of hockey players and used them for balance as she bobbed up and down on his cock.
If he had been close before, he teetered way too near to the edge now. He still didn’t stop her, almost daring himself to not explode down her throat. When she looked up at him and smiled around his cock, that was when he had to stop her, because that was just too damn sexy for him to handle.
He got her up, tossing her on the bed before he remembered her hand. “Shit. You ok?”
She sat back, propped up by her uninjured hand resting on the bed behind her back. “I’m great. Are you gonna -”
Her words were lost as he grabbed her behind both knees and pulled her to the edge of the mattress where he met her lips in a frantic kiss. He used his hips to spread her legs and as he pressed inside, she whimpered against his mouth before gasping for air, but finding only his breath to breathe in.
Ryan grabbed her hips, dragged his cock along her walls and then shoved back in, pushing her back along the bed. He did it again, making her move a littler further. And then again, until he knelt on the bed between her thighs and really got down to it.
Letting his knees slide apart and forcing her legs even wider, he found the perfect angle that made him feel like he was as deep as he could get, surrounded entirely by her glorious pussy. Isabella had to agree, it was everything she could have wanted from him.
She let her head fall back, her arms bent and laying flat against the bed as she let her whole body be rocked by the force of his thrusts. Occasionally she would tilt her hips, give him a little swivel that made him screw himself into her even tighter, but for the most part, she just laid there and let him have his way, loving every second of it.
His lower body on autopilot, he bent to flick her nipples with his tongue and now she moved her arms, reaching up to shove the hair back from her forehead. He was even sweatier, his hair a wet mess, but it just kept looking better and better.
He glanced up at her from between her breasts and gave her that beautiful crooked smile before latching on to her other nipple. When he kissed up her chest, his arms came closer and she sat up slightly to kiss and then nibble his shoulder, biting down harshly when his cock found that sweet spot deep inside her pussy.
“Ryan…that’s the ticket. Don’t stop.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He sat back up, taking hold of one of her legs and extending it straight up in the air. The back of her thigh and calf rested against his body as he used both hands to tug her hips tighter against his, fitting them together as close as could be. Then, he started fucking her again, bring both hands up along her leg and holding it vertical and against him.
Ryan kissed her ankle now before he moved downwards, wetting the smooth skin of her leg with his mouth all the while pressing deeper, harder inside her, his strokes even and steady. When he hit her knee, he ran his tongue along the divots on the underside, tickling her sensitive skin there.
“Mmm, fuck. Why…why is that sexy? Knees aren’t sexy. God, you’re amazing.”
He could only giggle against her skin and repeat his actions, kissing the inside of her knee and then bending as far as he could to lick her inner thigh. The feeling of a man’s mouth on her thigh while he had his cock buried inside her was mind bogglingly good and she let out a barely muffled scream of appreciation.
“Please tell me you’re close, Ry. Because I…I’m gonna, fuck. Please, just…yeah. Fuck.”
He fucked her through the orgasm that made her feel like a level five earthquake was rocking the floor underneath her. As she pumped and pulled at his cock, her hand came up to grab his arm to keep her grounded in reality. Unfortunately it was one that was currently bleeding. Luckily, she was too overcome by bliss to care very much and only let out a weak gasp of pain as she squeezed his arm and finished coming.
She vaguely felt him come as well, the warmth of his come blending with the fiery heat of her own release. He pulled out and suddenly disappeared from the room. When he came back, he had gauze and tape he had found in her bathroom and he nudged her to the side so he could sit on the bed and tend to her.
His calloused hands were so gentle, undoing the now blood soaked wrappings and getting her done up in fresh bandages. That done, he attempted to tame her wild hair a bit, twirling a piece around his finger as he looked at her sweetly. “I’m sorry.”
She made a sour face at him. “What? For this?” She held up her hand and then waved him off with it. “I told you, I’ll live. It was worth it.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She took hold of his hand with the appendage of hers not currently cut deep. “Are you leaving?”
“I don’t want to.”
She gave him a grateful smile and asked, “You know how to make eggs?”
“Then get back into bed. We can have breakfast. Besides, I’ll need you to rewrap my hand after I’ve showered.” Something in him kind of doubted she needed anyone’s help with anything, so that’s what he told her, much to her amusement. They shared a laugh and she shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? Even tough Philly girls like a white knight to take care of them every once and awhile.”
He crawled into bed next to her, grinning, and then kissed her swollen mouth. “Oh, I’m more than happy to be of service.”