Sexy Hockey Player Hook Up Ch. 03

©Zoe Geller, all rights reserved.

Chapter 6 Olivia

I got up to make us coffee, adding sugar to his. Okay, we were getting to know each other. I still had reservations as to where this extended hookup would go but decided to stop questioning it. He invited Mira and me to the game today. It's really the third date, and in today's world, that meant something. I had one boyfriend in junior high school, but it didn't last long enough to lead to sex. There were hookups and a few dates here and there in college, but nothing stuck.

I took him coffee in bed, and we hung out there. I threw on an oversized long-sleeved T-shirt because we couldn't afford to keep the heat the place up to 75 degrees in the winter. The electric bill would have been the size of a new car payment.

"What time do you have to be at the rink?"

"On hour before the game. I usually get there a bit before that. You are coming today, right?"

"Of course. Can't wait," I sip my favorite donut flavored coffee, it helps to warm me up. "What's written on your tattoo? I noticed it the other night but couldn't make out what it says." My feet are on the tiled floor, I didn't bother putting my thick and fluffy slippers on today. I crawl back into bed with him.

"It says for the fighting, the fallen, the conquered."

"Wow. That's intense. What or who is it for?" If it's for an old girlfriend, I'll pee my pants right now.

"It's for my brother who beat leukemia as a teenager."

"That's cool. You must be close."

"Yeah, his name is Ray, he's really cool. Plays hockey for the Denver Bears."

"OMG. That is so cool. So hockey really runs in your family. Does your dad play?"

"No, funny enough, but an Uncle did. I think it's our Norwegian genes on my Mom's side because Dad is Italian. We get our height from both."

"For sure," I agree taking in the chiseled, beautiful but manly features of his face. This is a low key morning for us, and I like it. Usually, I'm running around with my To-Do list and having panic attacks if I'm not ahead of my assignments.

I know it's not a good thing to ask men where this relationship is going. Any questions past the next meet up make most men run for the hills. And we had plenty of hills around here. But, the question of "What were we doing?" Made it difficult for me to just trust in the process. Would he be The One? Could he be the man of my dreams? Did I want to be involved with a hockey player? I knew they traveled all over and had tutors. How would I feel if I fell in love with him and he was on the road? Would I be lonely? Would he be faithful?

"I'm sure you must be hungry," I imply breakfast.

"You want to go out?"

"Looks like it snowed a ton last night." I had let Bowser out the backsliders to use the back yard for a minute, knowing he had to pee. The snow came down hard, and there was a foot or more new white powder out there. If we could put it up to our noses and get high, we'd all be rich.

"I can make some eggs and bacon," I offer. Going out in weather this cold is something I avoid. I'd love to be in a tropical climate right now, but I tell myself spring is around the corner. At some point, it will arrive, and I'll enjoy Colorado even more.

"That's fine. Are you sure?"

I'm not a girl that gets into snow sports. I can't ski or snowboard. The clean, white snow makes our hills and mountains magical. But I especially love it when I'm hanging out in a ski lodge in front of a toasty fireplace, taking in the magnificent view. Mira was the cold weather enthusiast, so she ran off with our friends to enjoy the winter activities.

"Oh, yeah. We keep the fridge stocked; you never know when you won't make it out of the driveway," I add, setting my coffee cup on the wooden dresser. Opening the top drawer, I pull out beige thong underwear that is lacy in the front and slide. I cast a glance at Jackson, and he's watching me. Hum, he might get into outfits. Men are very visual, most women don't think about that, but I do. A person doesn't have to be creative or into art to appreciate the view in front of them. Like I said, I've been single for a very long time, and I've picked up a ton of information over the years. I reach for the matching lacy bra and smile as I feel a slight blush on my face. I'm still cold, and I know my nipples are hard, so I quietly throw on a fitted pale pink workout suit that compliments my skin tone and petite figure.

"I'll just take Bowser out first."

"I'll take him," he volunteers.

"Really?" I don't know if he liked animals or not, but this was a good sign.

"Sure," he throws the covers back and puts on his clothes from last night.

I let out a snicker and try to stifle it.

"What?"

"It's like the reversal of the walk of shame at your place the other night. Your pants are over here. I think everything else is safe in the closet."

He chuckles, and I like the sounds he makes. He's easy on the ears. "Yeah. It wasn't that bad. My roommates are pretty chill."

He's dressed lacing up his all-weather hiking shoes already that go up to his ankles. We head into the kitchen together with Bowser on our heels.

"Do you have a leash?" he glances around.

"Sure," I go to the kitchen wall where there is a wood bar decorated with hearts and says love with hooks under it. I now have Bowser's attention as he jumps at my heels.

I bend to put the leash on his collar. "You're getting a treat today, buddy. Be good."

"I just go down the street?"

"Yup, he'll probably lead you." Bowser is jumping up on Jackson. "I'm sure he'll appreciate his time with you," I add as they walk out the door. "Hold the leash tight," I advise, "he loves people and other dogs, and he might pull you with him."

"No problem. I can handle him," Jackson's confident reply puts me at ease. Bowser is my baby, and I'd be devastated if something happened to him.

I pull out the cast iron skillet putting it on medium heat and cover the bottom with raw bacon. I crack eggs in a plastic mixing bowl. How many eggs would he eat? I'm sure four or more. I break seven just to be safe. I whisk them together before adding white pepper, my secret ingredient.

The bacon starts to sizzle, and the smell waffles through the kitchen and fills the house. I'm hungry. I think cornbread would go with this too. Or a frittata. I hadn't made one of those in years. I love food.

I'm bending over with my face in the fridge when I hear the front door open. Bowser is putting his cold nose in my face looking at the food selection with me.

"You are incorrigible," I rub his frosty head.

"Am I?" Jackson teases.

"I'm sure," I roll my eyes. "I just need to give you enough time. Was he good for you?" I pull a bag of shredded white and yellow Mexican flavored cheese. Bowser puts his nose on it as I swing it past him.

"He loved the walk. Wanted to sniff everything," he hung his leash up on the hook.

"Is it okay if I put cheese in the eggs?"

"Great. Can I help you?" He moves behind me as I'm fussing with the bacon, I feel his hand in the small of my back. It usually would annoy me, but I like it. It's not done to distract me, but it lets me know he's here.

"I hate cooking bacon. It takes so long and grease splashes," I ramble, trying to turn the bacon over in the skillet without getting burned by popping grease. "An air fryer might be worth the investment," I make a half pout and frown with the corner of my mouth.

"Here, I'll do that," he takes over the thongs.

"Okay," relieved, I don't have to finish it. "Do you cook much?"

"Hum," he gives me a pregnant pause, "I have all of my favorite restaurants and to go places in my phone with my favorite combos listed in notes."

My jaw drops.

"But I can do bacon," and he gives me his signature grin, the one that makes me smile and reassures me the bacon won't burn. Bowser is sitting at his feet, his drool creating a puddle at his paws.

I melt inside, and it's nice having a man in my kitchen in the morning. I can't remember the last time this happened. Most guys just skate out the door after their morning pee.

"What?" he asks.

I notice I'm looking at him with doe eyes.

"Nothing. You're cute. But oh, my, I'd never eaten out like that. My parents were anti-chemical and sugar all the way."

"So a nice dinner out is out of the question?" he flips the bacon one at a time.

"Oh, no. I wouldn't go that far," I pour the eggs in a warm skillet near him. "It's nice to get dressed up and go out like a real date. So many guys aren't into that anymore."

"Yeah, I know. So many girls aren't into it either."

"I didn't think about that," I watch the skillet. "Do you want more coffee?"

"Sure."

"Okay," I put the coffee pod in the modern machine and hit the glowing button.

"Coffee can't be beaten on a morning like this."

"I'm a big coffee junkie. We drink all kinds of crap all day. This is probably the healthiest food I'll eat all week."

"Wow, that's not good," I try not to be too judgmental. I pull a plate out of a cupboard and put a paper towel on it for the bacon. I flip the omelet adding the cheese before I flip it over on itself, the way chefs do it. I'm no chef, but today it turned out perfectly.

We sit to eat. Bowser is looking up at us from under the glass tabletop.

Jackson dropped a piece of his bacon slice, and it fell to his plate. We noticed Bowser looking at the tiled floor for the scraps.

Jackson laughs, "Oh my god, that's so funny. He doesn't know how the glass works."

"I know, right? He's cute, but yeah, he doesn't see the glass and expects the food to be on the floor. Although if you leave a package of bread on the table, he finds it. No problem. Plastic food storage containers on the counter? Gone."

"He's so ornery," he tone tells me he likes Bowser.

"He's a handful, but he's a keeper," I run my hand over Bowser's head, and he's giving me his sad puppy eyes for a piece of anything off of my plate. I can't refuse his cuteness and give him a tiny bite of my eggs.

"You give him table scraps?"

"I try not to. But, he's just so damn adorable. I can't resist those eyes. And the worst part is, he knows I can't say no to him."

"Dogs are smart," Jackson has finished his bacon and is working on his omelet. "This is really good." He swigs some coffee.

"Thanks. Your bacon frying skills are excellent. Nice and crispy, just how I like it," I admit.

"Me too," he grins, devouring the rest of his food.

It's nice to find things we have in common. I think it makes relationships easier. I also believe that you need someone to bring enough to the table to expand your horizons. There should be a yin and yang to couples. I'm good at cooking, Jackson is good at hockey and in bed. I wondered what other talents he had hidden. I feel respect and honesty are necessary for a relationship. They say more about a person's character than anything else.

We eat, and he helps me clean up the kitchen. Everything is put away, and he scoops me onto the countertop and comes in with tiny kisses under my top. I feel his hand go under my shirt and caressing a breast he fondled it until his fingers pinch my nipple causing me to lean back on the counter and rest my head on the cabinet door behind me. I squeeze his hard buttocks, pulling him into me. I couldn't wait to grind on him as I suck his neck, realizing too late I had given him a hickey. The taste of his body and the smell of him rushed my senses. In my eagerness, I pulled my sweatshirt off, letting it drop it to the floor.

"Your roommate?" he questions.

"She's out," I strain to mumble the answer.

I see the cinnamon rolls left on the counter and manage to flip the top off of them. I break off a piece of the gooey goodness and feed a bite to Bowser. He takes it from my fingers and chews it slowly, running his tongue over his lips. I take a bite, mull it around in my mouth for a second, and feed it to him in a kiss.

"Mm," the low, barely audible rumble of his voice, "That's so hot," he adds after swallowing the first bite.

I like my sugary lips, and then I lick his. "Right?" I take another bite and feed it to him in a kiss again, and he's really excited, his hard cock against my thigh, and his tongue is making its way to my tonsils.

My lips gave way under his firm lips, and I liked the texture of the stubble growing on his face. The beginning of a day's growth tickled me and just the right amount of pain on my soft face. I could get used to this. Our temperatures were rising, and his urgency was evident as I felt his cock in his jeans pressing into me.

I pull his shirt off and run a hand through his long wavy hair and tug on it as he shimmy's my sweatpants off me. I hear his jeans unzip and slide away, his hard body pressed into me with enthusiasm, pushing my head and shoulders against the cupboards. My butt rocks back on the stained Formica countertop giving him the opening he desires.

I have an insatiable hunger for him. The smell of him made me wet, I needed him in me, now.

He seemed to be in the same moment with me as he rammed his hard cock into my swimmingly wet pussy, and I gasped in delight as I felt him make his way into my tightness. He buried his head in my neck, and I bite his shoulder as I raked my nails down his tattoed arm.

He moaned. I leaned back, letting him thrust deeper in me.

"Ah, that's so good," I gasp.

His raspy voice was coming faster and was uneven like he was catching his breath. He reached down with his thumb and rubbed my clit, making circles before hitting it head on to make me come with him. We exploded together and held onto each other afterward.

I couldn't move. The chemistry we shared, fantastic, but I couldn't get down off the counter by myself.

He held me and was quiet, but I could tell his breath was still uneven.

"Are you okay?" I don't know if I should be concerned.

"Oh, yeah," he gasped before moving off of me so I could sit up.

"Wow, countertop initiated," I exclaim.

"Is that okay?" He had a brief look of concern on his face.

"Oh, yeah. Just a matter of time before that happened," I joke.

"Really?" He looked worried.

"No," I laugh. "That was a first for me."

"Ah, yeah. I have to confess, I kinda like countertops. I don't know what it is about it."

"I bet you like sex in places where you might get caught," I suggest reading him better with each passing day.

"Yeah..maybe," a sly grin flashed over his face, "but I haven't had too many chances to do that. Something to add to the bucket list." He moved away and picked up our discarded clothing.

Bowser wasn't sure what to think of our noise making in the kitchen and was looking at us from under the kitchen table, his head lying on his stuffed monkey.

"Shower?" I ask. Now that the hot sex was over, I could feel a draft on the floor.

"Sure."

I heated the shower water, and we had fun playing with the soap. Jackson stepped out behind me, barely fitting through the shower door, opening his shoulders were so vast. Running the plush towel over my back took consideration on his part, and it touched me. No guy had ever done that for me before, he was sweet, maybe romantic, and I liked it.

We dressed and then it was what do I do next?

"I'm gonna head out. I have homework to do." He put on his jacket and pet Bowser.

"Okay. I'll see you at the game this afternoon."

He gave me a salacious kiss before sliding over the iced sidewalk like he was on skates. The kid was a natural.

~~~~

Chapter 7 Jackson

We all trickled into the arena for our afternoon game. The stands are packed with people. They know we're going to the Frozen Four Tournament in a few weeks. This town eats, drinks and sleeps hockey.

Alan drags his hungover ass into the locker room.

"You better not slow it down out there," I grid him.

"Ugg. Yeah, a few too many beers. Where did you skate out to last night?"

"Olivia's."

"Wow, you guys getting serious?"

"Working on it. It's all-new. We'll see," I casually defer more comments.

Tyler picks up a box. "It's got your name on it, Speedy."

I catch the box with one hand. I have no idea what it is.

"Who's pranking me?" I ask out of concern. This was not the usual prank we played with each other.

The guys gave me a blank stare, and I knew they weren't putting me on.

Someone said, "Open it."

I quickly opened the box, and inside was a collection of products.

"Oh, man," I know the guys are going to love this. I pull out a spray bottle and announce, "Ball, Nuts, and Body Wash," there was a tin that looked like shoe polish and that all-natural soap and deodorant the hillbillies make and put ads on social media in the box as well as a new razor. The guys were all rolling. Alan was bent over he was laughing so hard.

"You got pranked good," Tyler adds.

I'm standing in the middle of a busy locker room thinking, How the hell did she get this in the locker room? And how did she get these things so quickly? Then it hit me, she got me. She got us. She wasn't afraid to play.

A teammate slapped me on the back. "Have to admit, it was executed very well."

"That's the thing; it was executed too well," and I don't know if I should be proud or scared.

"Looks like you have some manscaping to do," someone else commented.

"My manscaping is just fine," I lie. They'll probably all look at my junk when we shower after the game. Damn, damn, damn. I have to admit Olivia won round one.

We warm-up on the ice, and I see her and Mira sitting with our other friends and girlfriends in the stands. As I skate by, I throw her a glance and let her see a small smile. There's no family emotion when we're in a game. We have to act somewhat professional.

We put on a good show, the game went as expected. I'm a defenseman, so I'm checking players right and left. This team from Oregon is tough. The western teams are the most physical in every level of hockey. Whether it's juniors, USA Hockey leagues or the minors, they are the teams that take you to the boards every single game. They are relentless. The game gave us some bumps and bruises, but it helped us to prepare for the playoffs.

I came around to see Olivia and Mira after the game.

"Hey," I kiss her, even though my hair is saturated in sweat. My jersey is wet.

"Hi," her face lights up, showing me her gorgeous smile with perfect teeth. "How are ya?"

"Hungry," I laugh as Alan comes up behind me with a Jell-O shot. "Do you want to wait around an hour? Otherwise can meet up with us for dinner, I'll text you the address."

"Text me, I'll meet you there. Go enjoy your shower beer."

"Okay," I kiss her again before disappearing to be with my teammates.

I text her as we're heading out to a local favorite spot for some grub.

There are five of us, and she's the only girl.

"I hope you like tacos and tequila."

"I love tequila, but they charge so much for it," she exclaims after seeing the menu

"Don't worry about it, you're with me. What do you want to eat? The fish tacos are pretty good. We're going to order a ton of everything, I'm just warning you."

"Okay, I'll do tequila and chicken tacos, grilled, not the Cajun."

I ordered for us, and the guys threw in their orders too. Shots and beers started their descent to our table as efficiently as an assembly line. We could put away a lot of liquor in a short amount of time.

Olivia took her time with her margarita. I liked that she didn't guzzle alcohol. I felt confident she was a social drinker. That was a plus in my dating handbook.

"Your game was awesome, by the way," she gives me a shy glance with the compliment then turns her dark, sexy eyes to her plate as if she's not good enough for me.

"Thanks, I love it, what can I say? How is your food?"

"Great. The chicken tacos are delicious. Can I try your fish ones?"