Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(30)

This girl is going to be the one who kills me. I know it. If it isn’t the fact that I can’t have her that does me in, it’ll be death by dehydration from jacking off so much that gets me.

Aubrey Shelburne may as well have a death warrant out on me…and my sperm.

I know that after all the womanizing I’ve done in the past that I deserve the slow, agonizing torture of not being able to touch this particular one. Aubrey may get on my last nerve, but our connection is as strong as it was the morning I met her. There’s just something between us—a spark I keep trying to extinguish, but it keeps flaming back up—that makes me want her in ways I’ve never wanted anyone else.

“Fuck, f*ck, f*ck!” I head to my bedroom, and then straight to the ensuite bathroom. There, I strip off my clothes and step into the shower. I close my eyes and lean back against the rough stone tiles, allowing the warm water to splash over me.

I then grab the soap.

Once my hand is sufficiently lathered, I start stroking the length of my cock.

“Aubrey,” I murmur as I imagine her bent over in front of me, ass high in the air.

My hand moves faster and faster, and before I know it I’m coming in long, thick strands, fantasizing the whole time that I’m shooting it over Aubrey’s smooth skin. I clean up afterward, but not before jerking my dick one more time.

When I finally step out of the shower, I dry off a little and wrap a towel around my waist. My head starts to clear as my lust abates. I know it’d be a mistake to f*ck my life coach. Same as starting something, like a relationship with her, would be. Not only would I probably get her fired—which, despite all my bitching, I really don’t want to do—but if it didn’t work out between us, it would make our situation all kinds of weird.

I can’t have that. I need her too much. She’s already made good progress with me. I’m eating right and working out. And after watching all that Grey Goose go down the drain, it looks like I won’t be drinking anytime soon.

The team is thrilled so far, or so I’ve heard back from Jock. So why f*ck things up? My life will become far more stressful once preseason—and then the regular season—start up.

I’m doing great, but that’s partly because there’s no real temptation around. It’s basically just been Aubrey and me. Next week, though, Nolan is due in. And then Benny will be wrapping up with rehab and coming back to town.

Things are about to change real fast, and I need Aubrey around to keep me on track.

“So quit teasing her, jackass,” I chastise myself.

I turn down the covers on my bed and sigh. I need to choose my words more carefully. All that talk of sexual frustration and sexual repression just brings up more sexual feelings. Namely, the ones we have for each other. Or so I think. I know I want Aubrey beneath me.

Yeah, while pounding into her.

“Fuck, stop.” I’m getting hard again just thinking about her.

But what if she’s not 100 percent sure she wants me. She did resist me down in the kitchen. But she sure liked me saying we should f*ck. “I really wish we could.”

Now I’m completely hard again just thinking about it. There’s no denying I need another release before I can sleep.

Dropping the towel from around my waist, I fall back on my bed and begin stroking. All while once again fantasizing about a woman I can never really have.





Area 51





First, I take a long, hot bath to relax my tense muscles. Brent has me so keyed up, damn him. I then slip on a short silky robe and step into my bedroom, where I proceed to light some candles.

A girl needs to set the mood for a date with some alien dick, right?

“This is so stupid,” I murmur, sighing.

My lady bits don’t find it dumb, though. Hell, they’re urging me on. Miss Clit—she’s the ringleader of the crew—is more than a tad bit curious about what the big, green fake dick can do.

I start giggling as I hold the package out in front of me. “Yes, let’s see what green can do for you.”

It’s time to find out.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, I remove Area 51 from the plastic casing. “I am taking the package out of the package,” I say in my best robot voice.

Yeah, that does nothing to turn me on. But I can’t deny the 51 emblazoned on the side reminds me of a certain someone.

Hmm, that gets me going a little.

Untying the sash on my robe, I lie back and let the silky material fall to my sides. I like the feeling of nakedness, especially when I spread my legs. It reminds me of the anticipation of sex. But this can’t compare to the feelings you have when you’re about to get busy with a “real” man. There’s no flesh-on-flesh contact, no heated body pressed to one another in need. And, sadly, there’s no kissing, not with the toy. I guess I could kiss the tip, keep in practice for when I get back to giving blow jobs. But then I’d have to suck the thing too. And I have a feeling, based on the smell, that Area 51 would taste like rubber. Or whatever the hell it is Gumby here is made of.

Nevertheless, I am undeterred. I’m going to make this good no matter what. Damn Brent Oliver and his accusations of sexual repression.

As I fire up my new toy, I remind myself, “Don’t forget about the pulsating vibrating action.”