Twin Babies for my Pucking Defenders (Chicago Icebreakers #2)

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Carter

The week had been shit. I’d planned on just getting some drinks, drowning out the stress, but then she walked in and turned my whole night upside down. Fuck, she was beautiful.

Now, I turn over to watch her sleep, the soft rise and fall of her chest almost hypnotizing. She rolls over until she is lying on her stomach, one arm draped across the pillow, the sheets barely covering her toned, freckled back. I can’t resist running my hand up it, feeling the warmth of her skin, the smoothness of her muscles.

She stirs, a lazy smile curling on her lips as her eyes flutter open, greener than before. “What time is it?” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

“Does it matter?” I ask, thumb tracing the curve of her spine. “You got somewhere to be?”

She shakes her head, hair tousled and wild, making her look like some kind of sexy goddess. “Not really. I need to send out some job applications, but I’m free for now.”

Relief floods through me, but I keep it casual. “Last night was fun.”

She grins, running her hand up my chest, tweaking my nipple in a way that makes my breath hitch. “I know what last night was, Carter. It was fun. And if you’re not against it, I wouldn’t mind a fun morning too. But,” she adds, looking at me seriously, “let’s keep it at that. Just fun. No strings.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Yeah, I’m good with that. No strings.”

Her eyes soften, and she leans in, pressing her lips to mine. I pull her closer, my hand cupping the back of her head as the kiss deepens. She moans into my mouth, and it’s all I can do not to flip her over and take her right then.

Instead, she climbs into my lap, straddling me. Her body is a perfect mix of soft curves and lean muscle, and I can’t get enough. My hands find her hips, guiding her as she grinds against me, slow and teasing.

“Wait,” I murmur against her lips, reaching for the nightstand. I grab a condom, but she stops me, her hand wrapping around mine.

“Let me,” she whispers, taking it from me. She tears the packet open with her teeth, her eyes never leaving mine as she slides down my body, her breath hot against my skin.

I watch, my pulse quickening as she takes me in her mouth, her tongue swirling in ways that make my vision blur. “Fuck, Jade,” I groan, my hands tangling in her hair as she works me over, slow and torturous.

She pulls back just enough to roll the condom on, her eyes dark with desire as she slides back up, positioning herself over me. She holds onto my shoulders, her nails digging in as she slowly lowers herself, taking me inch by inch until I’m buried deep inside her.

“Carter,” she gasps, her head falling back, and I’m lost in the sight of her, the way her body moves, the way she feels.

I latch onto her nipple, teasing it with my tongue until it’s hard and pink, making her gasp as her movements becoming more frantic. She bounces on me, riding me like she owns me, and maybe she fucking does, because I can’t think of anything else but her.

“Jade, you’re fucking perfect,” I rasp, gripping her hips harder, matching her rhythm.

She leans down, her mouth finding mine again, and we’re a mess of gasps and moans, our bodies moving together like we’ve done this a thousand times before.

The tension builds, the room filled with the sound of skin against skin, until she clenches around me, crying out my name as she comes, her whole body trembling in my arms.

That’s all it takes to push me over the edge, my orgasm ripping through me as I hold her close, our bodies collapsing together in a sweaty, tangled mess.

We lie there, panting, her head resting on my chest as she traces lazy patterns on my skin. “That was...amazing,” she breathes.

“Yeah,” I manage, still trying to catch my breath. “You’re something else, Jade.”

She laughs softly, pressing a kiss to my chest before settling back down.

Then, I pull her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You want to stay a little longer?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

She looks up at me, those green eyes of hers soft but certain. “I think I should go soon. But maybe...one more round before I do?”

A grin spreads across my face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before she can respond, I flip her onto her back, spreading her legs as I kiss my way down her body. She’s already wet, and when I dip my tongue between her folds, she gasps, arching into me. I take my time, enjoying the taste of her, the way she trembles beneath me as I work her over, slow and thorough.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as she bucks against my mouth. “Carter,” she breathes, her voice strained. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

I double down, sucking on her clit until she’s crying out, her body shaking as she comes again, her thighs trembling around my head. I don’t stop until she’s completely spent, her chest heaving as she collapses back onto the bed.

She drifts off to sleep again, her body still trembling slightly, a contented smile on her lips. I pull the covers over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed.

The shower feels amazing, the hot water washing away the sweat and the tension from the night. I run my hands over my body, feeling the scratches she left on my back, the marks of her nails on my skin. They sting a little, but I can’t help grinning, thinking about the way she rode me, the way she gave as good as she got.

When I step out of the shower, the room is quiet. I grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist as I walk back into the bedroom. But when I get there, the bed is empty. She’s gone.

My heart sinks a little, but then I see it—a note, folded neatly and placed on the pillow. I pick it up, unfolding it to read her handwriting.

Thanks for last night and this morning. -J

I crumple the note and toss it into the trash. Then I think otherwise, pick it up and straighten it again.

Maybe it is me being a sentimental idiot, but the note makes me smile. This is what I wanted right?

It was fun, just like we agreed. No strings, no expectations. Just two people enjoying each other for a little while.

And that’s enough.

For now.

***

The gym smells like sweat and determination. I’m in the zone, pushing through the last few reps of my set, when my phone buzzes on the bench beside me. I glance at the screen, seeing my lawyer’s name flash across it—Damian Whitmore. The guy’s sharp, maybe a bit too intense sometimes, but he knows his shit.

“Damian,” I grunt, picking up the call as I wipe sweat from my face with the towel. “What’s up?”

“Carter, where the hell are you?” Damian’s voice is clipped, all business as usual. “I checked at your mansion, but you weren’t there.”

“Oh, you know I hate it when you call it that. It’s so damn cringey.”

“It’s a mansion Carter, whether you refuse to acknowledge that or not,” he says, but I can hear the smirk in his voice.”

“I’m staying at a hotel,” I reply, breathing heavily from the workout. “Needed a change of scenery.” And to get away from all the shit swirling around in my head.

“Hotel? You sure that’s a good idea? What if the media catches wind of it?”

“Let them,” I snap, annoyed. “I’m not in the mood to deal with anyone right now.”

“I don’t know Carter. You bought the mansion for a lot of money. Shouldn’t you at least be there trying to enjoy it?”

“That is my old team’s neighborhood. Honestly, until everything is finalized, I don’t want to run into any of them. Speaking of, you got any news on the contract?”

Damian sighs, and I can almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose, the way he does when he’s about to deliver bad news. “Carter, I’ve been working my ass off to get this trade reversed, but there’s nothing we can do. The Blackhawks sold you and the Chicago Icebreakers bought you fair and square. You’re reporting to their training facility tomorrow morning.”

I squeeze the phone so hard I swear it’s gonna crack. “You’re telling me there’s no fucking way out of this? Just last week, I was part of this team, and now I’m just...gone?”

“You’re not just gone. You’re still one of the best in the league, Carter. The Icebreakers want you for a reason.”

“Yeah, well, fuck them.” I hang up before I say something I’ll regret. The weights clatter as I drop them back onto the rack. I feel like punching something—or someone—but instead, I grab the bar again and start lifting, ignoring the burn in my muscles.

I was one of the top players on the team. Not the captain, but close enough to it that I thought I had some damn value. How could they just sell me off like I’m nothing? Like I don’t fucking matter?

The frustration builds up, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. When I’m done, I head for the showers, trying to wash away the irritation. But the water only does so much. My head’s still a mess, thoughts tangled like the hair on my head. I was avoiding my house, trying to pretend like the shit didn’t bother me, but it was eating me up inside.

Fuck it. I need to see it. Need to face reality, even if it’s all slipping through my fingers.

I grab my stuff and head out, deciding to drive to the house instead of going back to the hotel. The drive is short, but it feels like it takes forever. The neighborhood comes into view, a collection of homes where a lot of my teammates live. Used to live, I guess. Now I’ll be moving out too.

When I pull up to my place, it hits me how much I’ve made this house a home. The landscaping out front, the little upgrades I’ve done inside, the way I’ve settled into this place like it was mine forever. But now...now it’s just a pit stop on my way to something else.

I walk inside, the silence greeting me like an unwelcome guest. The familiar furniture, the pictures on the wall, all of it feels like a reminder of what I’m losing. I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the couch, staring at the wall.

“Kurva,” I mutter under my breath, rubbing my hands over my face. I’m tired. Tired of the bullshit, tired of the uncertainty. And more than anything, tired of feeling like I’m fucking disposable.

I grab my phone and call my parents. They don’t know about the trade yet—no need to worry them until I have to. The phone rings twice before my mom picks up.

“Carter! Ahoj, milá?ik!” I love when she calls me her darling.

“Ahoj, mama!” I greet her back.

“How are you darling?”

I force a smile, even though she can’t see it. “ I’m fine, just tired.”

“You’ve been working too hard, haven’t you?” she says in Slovakian, concern lacing her voice.

“Nie, nie,” I deny smoothly. “Just the usual stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“Dobre, I believe you, ” she says, but I can tell she’s not convinced. “Your father’s here. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yeah, put him on.”

There’s a rustle as she hands the phone over, and then my dad’s voice comes through the line. “ Carter, ?o sa deje? Your mother is worried about you. ”

“Nothing, just wanted to check in,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “How’s everything over there?”

“Good. V?etko je v poriadku,” he replies. “But you sound different. Something’s on your mind?”

“No, I’m good,” I insist. “Just dealing with some stuff at work, that’s all.”

“ Dobre ,” he says again, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me any more than my mom did. “Just remember, we’re here for you, no matter what.”

“I know. Thanks, Dad.”

We talk for a few more minutes before I hang up, feeling even more drained than before. I hate lying to them, but what can I say? That their son got traded like he’s just another piece of meat? That everything he’s worked for feels like it’s slipping away?

I toss the phone onto the couch and lean back, closing my eyes. There’s a dark cloud hanging over me, and I can’t shake it. Everything feels off, like I’m spiralling down into something I can’t control.

In a desperate attempt to escape the heaviness, I let my mind wander back to Jade. The way she looked at me, the way she moved against me, the way she felt—fuck, it’s enough to make my cock stir just thinking about it.

I slide a hand down, gripping myself as I replay every moment, every touch, every sound she made. The memory of her gasping my name, the way her body trembled as she came—I’m lost in it, chasing that high, needing the release.

It doesn’t take long before I’m there, the pleasure building up until it crashes over me, leaving me panting and spent. But even as the last shudders of the orgasm fade, the emptiness creeps back in, gnawing at me, reminding me that nothing’s really changed.

Exhausted, I barely manage to clean up before collapsing back onto the bed.

I imagine that the sheets smell like her, a faint reminder of something good in the middle of all this shit. I close my eyes, trying to hold onto that memory, that fleeting moment of something so good while everything else feels so bad.