Breakneck Hockey (Heartbreak Hockey #3)

6. Namaste

Chapter 6

Namaste

Sutter

J uly is filled with some epic fuck fests with Alderchuck, but it’s become a problem. Things were supposed to peter out. Instead, it feels like it’s just getting started. I’ve had to take action. As July closes out and we move into August, I’ve tried beating off to my virtual Alderchuck photo album, I’ve tried porn. By this point, I’ve tried every conceivable method of giving up Alderchuck’s ass. Fucking other men only makes me want him more because the other men are such a disa-fucking-ppointment by comparison. I’m currently going cold turkey on sex and relying on my stolen pictures of him. Though, are they really stolen when he poses for them?

Today my “quit Alderchuck nicotine patch” is yoga, and lemme tell yah, there’s nowhere I stick out like a sore thumb more than the middle of a yoga studio, but I’m desperate. There’s a studio within walking distance from my condo. This better bring me some fucking zen.

I’m early, so I set up my mat and head into the changeroom to put my phone away and take a piss. The lock screen explodes with messages as I’m about to lock it in my cubby.

Charles

Checking in. All good over here. Lane stopped by. That guy’s a bigger dick than you.

Lane

Checked on the kidlets. The little one bit me, and I’m gonna throw the older one off a cliff.

Lovely.

To Charles I tell him

I don’t care how much of a dick Lane is so long as he’s not hurting you. Remember our deal.

Charles

Yeah, yeah

To Lane I write

I’m fine with the foster care thing, you’re not. Be fucking nice.

To be honest, I’m not one hundred percent on board with it, but any doubt I have is Lane-inspired. He’d better behave himself.

Lane

Kidding, Sutter.

Those two are seriously ruining my zen-factor before it has the chance to blossom.

Lane

Seriously, though. That doc you sent’s had Mama West on some medication and she’s coming around. See? It’s all gonna be fine.

Nothing’s that easy, but I’ll take the small win for now. So long as things are on an upward trajectory, I’m not gonna worry. This time I shove my phone into the cubby facedown and lock it shut. There. Neither one of those fuckers is bothering me for the next seventy-five minutes.

I turn and almost knock into someone.

“Hey, watch it … Sutter?” he says.

Fuck. No. I’m here to get Alderchuck out of my head and he appears in tight yoga pants. Why the hell is he wearing such tight fucking pants? Lululemon makes baggy ones for a reason.

“This is my yoga studio, Alderchuck. What are you doing here?”

“Really? Didn’t see your name on the door, dickface. I’m here to get my downward dog on with my pal Rachel.”

Who the fuck is Rachel?

“Afraid I’ll show you up?” he says.

“No. I’ve seen enough of your face this summer.”

He leans in. “Then start fucking me from behind, Top Dog.”

Hot tingles buzz over my body, straight to my dick. I wanna push him into a stall. Fuck him stupid. Better yet, screw yoga, I’ll screw him instead. But then I remember I’m on a strict Alderchuck-free diet. Thank fuck I wore tight briefs and baggy yoga pants.

“Leave.”

“Not on your life, Sutter.”

I reach to strangle him, but he’s gone. His annoying laugh fills the exit hallway. Storming out doesn’t do me any good. People have arrived and this isn’t the ice, so we have to pretend to be civilized humans. Naturally, Casey’s mat’s set up right in front of mine because that’s just the way the universe works. It’s karma for fucking Alderchuck at all.

A decently muscled teenage girl with her brown hair in a ponytail bumps knuckles with my Alderchuck. What’s he doing befriending young girls?

“That him?” she says.

“Yeah. Totally hot, major dick,” he says.

“All the hot ones are,” she agrees.

“If you two are gonna talk about me, at least say that shit to my face.”

“Okay. You’re super hot, but you’re a dick, Sutter,” Casey says. He smirks. “This is Rachel Meyer.”

I shake her hand. She’s got a strong handshake. She’s wearing baggy pants like a normal person. Pants that have Bantam Girls Hockey written up the leg.

“You play hockey?” I ask.

“Yep. All Meyers do. These are old pants, though. I’ll be moving into midget this season.”

She talks about Meyers like everyone should know who—or what—they are.

“This is Jack’s sister-in-law, or she will be if Merc ever puts a ring on it. Trish is teaching the class.”

Whoa. Way too many people to remember, but now I want to know what the fuck the connection is. “Trish?”

“Trish is married to Bea Meyer, Merc and Rachel’s oldest sister. They were there when I was at Jack and Merc’s the other day and Trish suggested we come because we’re both having the same hip tightness. Trish only does this part-time and this is the only class we could make it to. Figures you’d be here, Sutter.”

“I live a block away. Don’t act like I’m the interloper. If anyone’s an interloper, it’s you.”

“Wow. Does he ever smile?” she asks.

“I’ve gotten him to smile once or twice,” Casey says. “But he’s mostly like this. See what I have to put up with?”

I growl.

“He’s like a dog, too. A big rottweiler,” she says.

“You should see how many locks he has on his doors. Also very Doberman-like. I’ve coined the term doberweiler.”

“Yeah, I see it,” she says.

There’s fucking two of them. If they’re gonna talk about me like I’m not here, I’m checking out. I take a sip of water and stretch out on my mat, doing my best to block out their conversation. It’s kinda hard when Alderchuck’s purposefully trying to rile me up, though.

He’s also flirting. Sinking back into some pre-class Child’s pose in those tight pants so I can see that round ass of his.

Rachel laughs. “You two are idiots.”

I can’t argue with that.

The class fills, and the instructor—Trish, I guess—floats out from the back to the mat on the stage at the front of the room. “Namas-fucking-te, peeps. Let’s do this.”

I didn’t know swearing was allowed in yoga. I might start coming more often.

Scratch that. I’m only coming again if Alderchuck’s not here. The class is fucking torture with his tight body open wide before me. His hair’s tied in a man bun. I want to tug the elastic out and run my hands through his soft locks. If I can see his nuts in those pants, so can everyone else, and I don’t like it. At least two of the other men have snuck glances at his junk. I want to cover him up.

And yeah, I know . But just because I don’t want Alderchuck, doesn’t mean I want anyone else to have him.

The class ends seventy-five long minutes later. Alderchuck should be less attractive when he’s dripping with sweat, but he’s not. I know what he looks like naked and glistening. I want to rip the clothes off him, which is exactly why I shouldn’t. This whole thing with him’s gone too far, and I’m ending this here. Now. Today.

I’m quiet as I roll up my mat, thinking about how I’ll do it. Know what? Doing anything big will make it too much like a breakup and we’re not something to break up. I’m just gonna walk the fuck out and never call him again. A good old-fashioned ghosting.

Easy.

I grab my small bag from the cubby in the changeroom that smells worse than a hockey locker. Too many hairy sweaty men, not enough bottles of disinfectant.

“Hey handsome, I saw how flexible you were in there.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

That’s Alderchuck’s voice … and another man. Is someone hitting on my Alderchuck?

Know what? Who cares? That’s good. Makes this even easier. I turn and my gaze lands on some wheat-grass-eating yogi type, tryna act like he’s Rico Suave.

“I’m pretty flexible too. We could?—”

“Alright. Show yourself the fuck out.” That’s my voice, and my big mitts have found their way to the guy’s shirt collar.

He stumbles back, hands in the air. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know he was yours. I’ll step off.”

I cross my arms, glaring at him, all the threat in the world focused on him until he’s scampered out. Which leaves me with fucking Alderchuck and his annoying laugh.

“Dude, that was awesome. You possessive sonuvabitch.” He slaps his knee.

His turn. I take a quick scan of the place—it’s nearly cleared out—and drag him off to one of the changing stalls. Just the touch of him lights my hand on fire, and my pulse quickens. My deprived dick, thinking it’s about to have happy fun times, perks up, ready to shove itself inside Alderchuck at will.

He’s just as sweaty as everyone else, but for some reason, his scent’s intoxicating. It calls to me. I take a long inhale, sampling the forbidden fruit before me. All my work avoiding him, pushing him from my thoughts, it was for nothing. My exhale’s all stilted and shaky. The way I’m breathing over him, I’m whatever dog name he gave me with a mad dose of rabies.

“You growled at that guy, Sutter.”

“Did not.”

“You did, but it was hot.” He presses a searing hand against my chest. “Didn’t know I had a literal guard dog.”

“What are you doin’ letting that guy hit on you when I’m right fucking here?” I shove my hand around his neck. I hear what I’m saying, and I see what I’m doing, but it’s all instinct. I couldn’t explain it if I tried. I’m supposed to be walking out of here.

He cocks a smug brow. “Jealous?”

“It’s not jealousy, it’s just rude.” But fuck, am I jealous? If I am, this has progressed too far. I should walk out now. I don’t. I tighten my hand, fingertips digging in.

“Fine, deny it. But we are so not doing that, Sutter. I don’t belong to you, and I can fuck whoever the hell I want, for the record. Now c’mon. Let me suck your sweaty dick while I beat on mine before we get kicked outta here.”

“Don’t you have to take Rachel home?”

“Nope. She’s catching a ride home with Trish.”

I’m frozen. Between a rock and a hard Alderchuck. The rock represents my resolve to stop dipping my dick into his sweet cheeks. It’s a rock crumbling away to dust. Do I need to stop fucking him, though? Why do I need to? Why not stick to his original plan to continue this until—fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to say this—the flavor wears off? Until then, we should try everything. Every filthy thing I’ve ever dreamt of doing to him, I can do. I know he’ll be down for it. He’s just as dirty as I am.

That sounds a lot better than avoiding him, having to watch other men hit on him in changing rooms.

Fucking prick, trying to put his hands on my Alderchuck.

Fierce rage froths to the surface. Some deep part of me’s claimed Alderchuck as mine, and like hell will I ever watch someone put their hands on him. He’s just gonna have to deal with it.

Still not jealous.

“You’re having some kind of existential crisis, and that’s fine, but I’ve actually got shit to do.” He pats my face. “So release my neck, Sutter, because I’m taking your dick out of your pants and I’m putting it in my mouth.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” I let go of his neck, he sinks to his knees. “That’s a good little Alderchuck.”

“Fuck you, Sutter.”

My cock’s hard and ready for him. He strokes it a few times as he pulls my dick and balls just outside of my yoga pants. He tries to do the same with his dick, but my fingers slide into the roots of his hair, tugging until he inhales a sharp breath.

“Ask if you wanna touch your dick,” I hiss.

“Please, Sutter,” he whines.

All it takes is that little whimpered please, and I want to give him what he wants. I hate that. I hate him. It’s got a similar and yet opposite feeling to what we have on the ice. That needling sensation. The deep-seated annoyance that begs my attention.

But fuck, I wanna hear the sounds he makes.

“If I let you touch your dick, you’ve got to be quiet.” There’s no chance that whoever’s left out there doesn’t know what we’re doing in here, but just as I’d leave a man to his pleasure, looks like we’re getting the same courtesy.

“I can be quiet,” he whispers. Doubt that, but I’m too far into this. I need him, need his mouth on me. I wanna feel his moans on my dick.

My whole uncut cock fits in Alderchuck’s mouth. He sucks, compressing it, vacuuming the head into a tunnel of hot wetness. I don’t know what it is about him, but staying away from him only makes me more fucking needy for him. I fuck his mouth harder just for that. Of course, he doesn’t even choke, just takes it in stride.

Because my dick’s on a hairpin trigger, I cum quickly. He swallows my load like it’s nothing.

“Sutter, let me cum already,” he hisses.

I yank him up by his collar and pin him to the back of the changeroom in a kiss, tasting myself in his mouth as I grab his dick, stroking the bit of precum over the head.

“What if you wait till I’m inside you later?” He whines. “I want you desperate, thinking about me, my dick pounding you. I’ll make it so good.”

“Sutter, I’m supposed to meet up with Jack. We’re taking the baby for a walk on the seawall,” he says between kisses.

I don’t want to stop kissing him. It’s the barely-there watermelon flavor for me.

“C’mon. Be a good boy for me, brat cat. I’ll spank you, tease you, then fuck you later. Way better than a little spit and my hand.”

He’s humping my hand. Having him on the precipice of need like this is how I like him best. Waiting for my dick, not someone else’s.

“Only if you admit you’re tryna stake a claim because of yoga dude.”

I squeeze his dick. “Not a secret. You’re fucking mine.” I smack his ass, making the decision for him. “Which means you’re gonna behave you’re yourself till I fuck you later.”

He groans into my neck, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

I tuck his dick back into his tight yoga pants, and that reminds me. “I think it’s a fitting punishment for teasing me like that through class.”

He snickers. “You were growling then, too. Rach and I were making fun of you with our eyes.”

Reality hits us, and we remember where we are.

“Think anyone’s out there, Sutter?”

I shrug, looking through the crack. “Coast is clear.”

“Fuck, we’re gonna get caught one of these days if we’re not careful.”

That implies there’ll be more of “these days” and yeah, there will be. I officially give up on staying away from him. I have a better idea—mine whenever I want him. The rest of the time, I won’t think about what he’s up to.

I smack his ass since no one’s around. “My place tonight.”

“You’re making me wait till tonight? It won’t take us that long to walk around the seawall. I could be there in a couple of hours.”

“Alright. Go for your walk and then get your ass to my place.”

He grabs his mat, muttering a string of curses as he leaves the empty locker room and I catch a glint off the countertop.

My skin breaks out with goosebumps. No. No way. This is getting weirder. It’s an older penny, but it hasn’t lost its luster. Canadian.

“Look, pal. Someone’s thinking about us.”

Dad flicks the penny off his thumb. It flips as it climbs into the air, spins, and lands in his palm. He slaps it onto the back of his hand and then reveals the Queen. Heads.

“Knew it. It’s Mom.”

Mom was always heads. Tails was someone else. A worldly mystery.

I flip the penny. Tails. Tail. Alderchuck’s ass. Fuck. Alderchuck ruins everything. But it’s starting to feel like a message. It’s the only woo-woo crap I remotely believe in.

“He’s just bubblegum, Dad,” I explain to no one. No one answers.

No one believes me.