Delayed Penalty by Shey Stahl

25. Goal

A goal is scored when the puck crosses completely over the goal line within the goal frame.

Evan

After winning a Stanley Cup and hoisting that cup over your head, you do one thing: you celebrate. In more ways than one.

Guess how I celebrated? I’m sure you can guess.

With a goal of my own.

“Make love to me,” Ami breathes, her eyes on mine, the high of the victory radiating through both of us.

“Do you know what it is you’re asking for?” My hands move hers over her head against the pillow, my head dipping forward to tease the skin of her neck.

“I’m asking for you, Evan.”

My fingers tremble as they go for my shirt. It’s different this time. I can feel it. We aren’t going to stop, no brakes. No, let’s wait a little longer.

When she hands me a condom, I smile, the room spinning a little less. Did I mention I’m drunk? A little, not really, but okay, maybe. “You sure?”

“Yes, are you?” she asks, holding me in place. “You’re swaying again.”

I touch my finger to my nose, laughing. “Perfectly fine.”

Ami laughs and quickly gets the wrapper open. As she touches me, placing the condom on, I have to close my eyes, my hand grazing the side of her bare breast and then moving to her face.

When she has the condom on me, she lies back against the bed. I fall forward, supporting my weight with my arms. “I can’t believe we won the Stanley Cup,” I tell her, the win still heavy on my mind.

“Okay, dude, we’re about to have sex.” Her hands lift mine back to her breasts. “Let’s concentrate on that.”

“Oh, I am...” I push my erection into her hips, letting her know I’m all for that. “It’s just been an unreal night... and now here you are...” My lips move from her neck to her ear, over her jaw, and then find her lips. I whisper against them, pulling her closer, “Loving me, wanting me despite my drunk ass.”

“You’re not that drunk, remember?” She taps the tip of my nose.

I’m nervous, but I’m not going to show it, and honestly a little terrified. Thankful for the alcohol, I can’t imagine what I would have been like without it. But there’s also an energy I have never felt before. Not even in a game. Not even in a Stanley Cup win.

I blink down at her, struggling to keep my composure. All joking and teasing aside, there’s still something incredibly intimate happening between us. I don’t necessarily want our first time to happen when I’m drunk, but like I said, I’m not that drunk. I’m still very much aware of what’s about to happen between us. For a moment, I freeze.

Ami gives me these looks. She always has. They’re just looks, but then they aren’t really because I know the story behind the starry blues holding mine and it tells me so much more than her words ever can.

This look, the one she’s giving me now, this one tells me she’s waited for me. She’s about to give me a piece of herself she’s never given to another. It doesn’t matter that someone stole her virginity, like it was a fucking car stereo they jacked.

Her virginity is something she’s gives, and it won’t be lost until then.

So this look, it’s telling me I’m the one. It’s mine if I want it.

My hands trail down her body to her hips, my face lowering again, finding her lips as I situate myself at her entrance. That’s when I take notice of her shaking. “You’re trembling. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” she whispers, unable to hide the fear in her eyes.

“Don’t be. I’ll never hurt you.” My hands wander down her body, lingering, before I bring my eyes back to hers.

Her eyes flutter closed when she feels me there. Her body tenses, but she tugs on my shoulders. “I’m ready.”

I slowly enter her.

Naturally, she winces, unable to hold back, burying her face in my shoulder. I want to ask her if she’s okay, if I hurt her.

“Jesus,” I groan, barely able to focus.

Ami’s eyes open, focusing on my words that continue to fall from my lips. I have no idea what I’m saying, but it’s a lot of groaning and cussing. It feels too fucking good not to. At some point I move my lips to her shoulder, trying to control the moan when she wraps her legs around me, inadvertently letting me go deeper.

“Careful,” I tell her, struggling to catch my breath. “We need to be careful.”

“I know.”

“Look at me. I need to see that you’re okay.” I move again, this time my hand angles her chin up so I can see her eyes. She has tears in them and her chin is quivering. But I know she’s okay. The smile tells me so.

The tears aren’t from pain. It probably hurts, yeah, the tightness consuming me tells me I’m stretching her enough that she has to feel some discomfort. But that smile confirms the passion, the love, all of it is plastered across her face, mirroring my own. This memory, the one happening right now is one I never want to forget. I want to take a snapshot of her face, the one telling me I’m the first and if I play this smart, keep good puck control, I’ll be her last.

I know when her hips begin to move, still wincing from me being inside her, that I’m not going to last long. It’s been six months since I had sex with anyone… yeah, I’m not lasting long.

My movements become slightly more frantic as I rock against her. Ami finds my eyes again. I want to please her, I do, but know that isn’t happening. Not this first time; she’s too tense.

Ami takes my face in her hands and kisses me, pouring more emotion and love into this one kiss than I have ever felt in my lifetime.

When I come, she’s watching me, the same passion displayed on her face.

My eyes close, every last electrifying pulsation raking throughout my body. My breath, heavy and warm, pants against her cheek and she sighs, her arms wrapping around me a little tighter.

Pressing my lips to her neck, I whisper, “I love you.”

Rolling to lie beside her, I remove the condom and toss it in a nearby trash can.

That’s when I hear her whimper, her hands brushing over her cheeks. The lighting is low, but I can see the tears sliding from the corner of her eyes.

“Shit... are you okay?” I pull the sheets up and around her shivering frame. My breath washes over her as I turn her to face me. My hands gently cradle her head.

“Yes.” Her voice shakes. She isn’t okay. “I just have something in my eye.”

“Bullshit.” I touch her cheek, wiping away the tears with my thumb. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, really, I have something in my eye,” she lies, trying her luck again and sniffing, her body still trembling.

“Come here, you emotional girl.”

She hesitates for a brief moment, wiping her eyes, and then looks over at me and then back to the ceiling. “All right, not-so-drunk boy, I’m gonna be a total emotional girl right now.”

I laugh, watching the tears as she refuses to look at me, instead staring at the ceiling.

“Can you just hold me?”

“I thought you just had something in your eye?” I whisper into her hair, my arms loosening around her so I can rub smooth circles over her back.

“I do. Tears.”

“Are you okay?”

She sighs. “I’m perfect. Just hold me. Stop talking. You’re ruining my moment.”

I smile but say nothing else.

“Don’t let go,” she begs, tightening her arms around me. “Please, don’t ever let go.”

My arms wrap a little tighter, an unspoken promise I will never break.

It’s taken me a while, but I finally realize that Ami doesn’t need me to protect her. Though I always will, she needs me to be there for her. Just be there.

“Did it hurt?” I ask, pouring her a cup of coffee the next morning. My condo is trashed. There are beer bottles, red Solo cups, and empty bags of chips. A party went down here last night. After we got back from the game, the party ended up at my place and then eventually at Leo’s. I know his place is worse than this, but instead of cleaning, I have other ideas for our afternoon together.

“Yes, at first, but it got better.” Her eyes lift from her cereal bowl and she winks. “Wanna try again?”

I quirk an eyebrow, acknowledging her statement, and then swiftly carry her away. It’s amazing how fast I’m able to scoop her up.

She squeals when I slam the door to the shower. My hands fall from her wrists, having moved to her hips, and settle on her panties. Bunching the fabric in my fingers, I give them a rough and sudden tug that tears them away.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I moan when I enter her moments later. “So fucking sexy.”

“I love your voice.” She arches around me, her body curving to me. “It gives me tingles when you moan.”

I grunt, pushing inside her again. “I know you do. And I intend to drive you wild with it.”

“Evan...” she breathes after I pull out and put a condom on. My dick is so fucking hard it hurts, actually hurts. “Fuck me the way a hockey player would.”

I stop. Suddenly. My breath comes out in a growl when she says shit like that. I struggle with that because of what she went through. I constantly have to remind myself that she’ll tell me if she feels uncomfortable with anything we do.

“You’ve had sex where you haven’t held back before, right?” she asks when I don’t say anything.

Held back? I shake my head, laughing. I’m sure I have Callie to thank for that one.

“I heard—”

My kiss cuts her off. “I don’t care what you heard. You’re different.”

“I want you. Not someone you’re pretending to be.”

“I’m not pretending.” I try to play off my tone, but I’m concerned with where this is going. “With you... this is me.”

Ami smiles. “I want it a little rough. I want to see the side all those puck bunnies saw. I want to see Evan Masen the NHL defenseman.”

I stare at her. “There wasn’t that many. You know that, right? I’m not Leo.”

Ami rolls her eyes. “Still....”

I can tell I’m not getting out of this. “Fuck, fine.” She notices when I start to hesitate.

“Stop holding back,” she pleads, pressing her lips to my throat. “I want you to lose control with me. I’m not a china doll, damn it. You won’t break me, and I’m not scared of you.” She looks at my amused expression. “You don’t always have to be so gentle.”

“I’m not,” I tease. “I pulled your hair once.”

She glares, pushing against my shoulders when I carry her into my room. Fuck the shower. I’m gonna need a bed for this. “Not at all what I mean.”

Trapped beneath me, she bites my neck, just above my collarbone. I let out a low growl as my lips part, and I start to pant. My fingers curl against her when I enter her and start to move, but still, I can’t show that side of myself around her.

I’ve been rough with girls. And when I say rough, I mean like pulled their hair harder than I would with Ami, and I think one time a girl made me fuck her so hard my balls hurt the next day from slapping her ass, but crazy rough shit? I don’t know about that. I haven’t tied anyone up or choked them. What the fuck does she think I do to women? And thinking about doing that with Ami, that’s another story. What if I hurt her? Then again, it’s what she wants and who am I to deny such a pretty little thing?

“What kind of shit are we talking about here?”

Her cheeks turn bright red. “Like you fuck me hard and I’m sore the next day.”

My gaze meets hers, darker than before. “Why would you want that from me?” I don’t say this, but after everything she’s been through, why would she want that?

“Because. I don’t know.” And I don’t think she does. She looks confused.

“Okay, but if I hurt you, tell me to stop.”

“So like a safe word?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure.”

“Cool. My safe word is puck.”

“Uh, no. That sounds like fuck. I might get it confused with thinking you like it.”

“Yeah, because I say fuck so often.” She laughs and I realize she’s right. She doesn’t. “Okay… what then?”

I raise an eyebrow. “How about stop?”

Her face falls. “You’re not fun.”

“Fine.” I groan, sighing. “Um, how about penalty?”

“Yes, perfect!”

If I didn’t know any better, you would have thought I had just proposed judging by the glow on her face. “You’re something else.”

I’m not sure what Callie told Ami about us, but I have never seen Ami this into sex, because the moment I agree to this rough sex she talks about, she’s screaming and moaning, and fuck if I don’t give it to her. Once I get into it, it’s a relief not to have to be so gentle.

Slamming into her, her mouth falls open, a plea to fuck her harder on her lips. Her fingers claw at my back and hair as I bury myself in her neck, frantically moving with her. Our skin slaps together, and the bedroom echoes with desperate cries and grunts.

Her legs clamp around me, digging into the backs of my thighs with her heels. When I know she’s come, I can’t hold back.

My hand returns to her hair, clutching at the strands as my mouth finds her neck. My body stiffens, my mouth closing around her skin, biting as I release inside her.

Her heart pounds against my chest, matching mine. Beads of sweat roll down my temple as I untangle us. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before next season,” I say between pants, shaking my head as my muscles protest with every movement.

“I’m just conditioning you.” Ami giggles. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

I sigh with a satisfied hum. “That we do.”

And penalty isn’t said once.

We’ve only been sitting on the couch all of twenty minutes when Ami snickers beside me, looking over at me. “I’ve always wanted to know. Do you have some kind of team ritual you do to get rid of this?” she asks, running her fingers over my jaw that’s covered in a thick black beard from the playoffs.

“No ritual.” I chuckle, pulling her closer so I can tickle her neck with it a few more times. “I just usually shave it off some.”

I never have a clean shave. Ever. I don’t like the way it makes me look younger. I’m all about the intimidation the beard brings.

“Can I watch?”

I’m not expecting that question. “You want to watch me shave?” I ask, amused and curious as to why she would want to do that. That isn’t something I would think girls would be into, but hey, whatever, right?

“Yeah, why not?”

I shrug as I stand and reach for her hand. “All right, come on.” I motion with a nod to the bathroom.

Inside my bathroom, she takes a seat on the counter in front of me. I reach behind my head, grabbing the neck of my shirt, and pull it off, tossing it to the floor. “Is this some kind of weird sexual fetish you haven’t told me about?”

“What?”

“Watching me shave.”

“Oh, well, not that I know of. I just want to watch.”

Ami’s eyes go to my chest and then to my stomach.

My lips twist into a smirk, knowing she’s probably not far from the thoughts I’m having since she’s wearing my jersey and not a goddamn thing else.

I don’t know what it is about this girl wearing my jersey, but that shit gets me every time.

She watches as I pull out the clippers I use from under the sink. When my arm lifts, Ami catches the tattoo over my ribs that I know she’s been eyeing for a while.

Though she never asks, I know she’s curious as to why I have it and one on my shoulder. I have a few more on my forearms, but she’s gotten to know those ones pretty well over the months.

“What does it mean?” she implores, her fingers ghosting over the black markings, tracing over them with the lightest touch. It has no meaning. It’s a symbol of some sort, but I can’t tell you for the life of me what the hell it means. I was drunk when I got it.

“Nothing that I know of,” I tease, remembering that night I started out in Pittsburgh and woke up in Orlando.

“Why’d you get it?” Starry eyes focus on mine.

“I was drunk and fifteen and really stupid. Sometimes, I don’t always think,” I tell her, playfully rolling my eyes. “I have my moments of weakness. Like being around you.” My hands move to her thighs, trailing up them ever so lightly. She shivers, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me into her center. She bumps the clippers beside her, sending them into the sink.

Part of me hopes she wants something more here. I can definitely go for something more.

“Hmm... you always seem so levelheaded to me.”

“Nope...” My lips find hers. “Not always. I have weakness just like everyone else.”

I have another tattoo, well, a few. Nothing really meaningful. One tattoo is of a pair of hockey gloves and stick on my shoulder, surrounded by the logo of the team my dad played for when my mom got pregnant with me. That’s meaningful because they gave up everything for me.

I pick up the clippers, and Ami reaches for them. I glance at her in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Mind if I try?”

“Are you serious?” I cock an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know, you might slip and cut my hair. Leo did.”

She stares at me. “Why the fuck would you have let Leo shave your beard?”

“We were drunk. Shit happens when you’re drunk with a group of hockey players.”

“I’ll say. Well...” Ami reaches for the clippers again. “I’ll be careful.”

“I don’t know.” I can’t help but laugh because every word I speak, her glare becomes that much more evident. And fuck if it isn’t adorable. “I saw your stick skills. Your hands the same?”

“What? Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and a pouty look appears.

“Here.” I hand her the clippers.

She refuses to take them. “No. I don’t want to anymore.”

I have to up my game here.

“Ami.” I lower my voice and my head, trying to catch her eyes, placing my hands back on her thighs. I spread them wider, stepping closer. “Please? I trust you,” I whisper. I hold the clippers in my hand against her thigh, begging her to believe me. Or, at least, trying to get her to believe. I have no idea if it’s working but then again, Ami usually surprises me.

What starts out as playful and teasing is suddenly very intimate. With my chin raised, her hands on my jaw angling it in the direction needed, she brings the clippers to my face and makes the first swipe over my jaw. Intently focused on her, I watch.

She’s so careful, so tender with every touch. My eyes drift closed, and I’m reminded of how different this year has been from the last time I shaved this beard. Never did I think it would have gone this way. Never did I think saving someone would result in me finding Ami.

Never.

By the time she makes the last pass over my jaw, my heart is pounding from the memories over the year, including the ones I try to forget. I still struggle with what I can’t change. What I can’t stop from happening,

When she finishes, she traces her fingers along my jaw, removing the tiny hairs that remain. I hum softly at the touch, leaning into her palm before pressing a lingering kiss there.

When her eyes lock on mine, they’re dark with passion. I don’t have to wait long before she leans forward, hungrily possessing my mouth. I know, without a doubt that this… Ami… being with her, will forever be the best goal I ever snagged.