Center Ice (Boston Rebels Book 1)

Center Ice: Chapter 36



JULES:

Where are you?

AUDREY:

I’m almost home, why?

I just dropped Graham off at a friend’s house for his first kindergarten playdate, and I’m almost back to our place—it’s not like Jules didn’t know I was taking him over there today.

JULES:

Did you forget about brunch?

Shit. Earlier this week, when the mom of one of Graham’s friends reached out about a Sunday morning playdate, I suggested to Jules that we should host a girls’ brunch. She must have made those plans, but she didn’t tell me about them. Or, I don’t think she did?

AUDREY:

Yep. I sure did. I’ll be home in a minute.

JULES:

Also, you got a package…

We get a lot of deliveries, which means this one is standing out to her for some reason. And then it hits me: Drew said a package would be coming my way today.

AUDREY:

Okay?

JULES:

Let’s just say I recognize the packaging and I have questions.

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m pulling onto our street when her message comes through, so I don’t bother replying. Instead, I hop out of my car after I’ve parked and take the steps two at a time. When I come in the back door, Jules and Lauren are standing at the kitchen table, inspecting a black mailing box.

Lauren takes a sip of what appears to be a mimosa to hide her smile.

“What’s going on?” I ask. They’re acting unusually strange.

“You got a package,” Jules says.

“Yeah, you mentioned. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why don’t you come open it?”

“Drew said he was sending me something, but that I should open it alone.”

“I’ll bet he did,” Lauren mutters, and she and Jules break into what can only be described as uncontrollable giggles.

“Are you guys drunk?”

“Nope,” Jules says, then looks at Lauren. “She really doesn’t know.”

“What don’t I know?” I ask, my voice raising slightly.

“What’s in the package?”

“How would I know? I haven’t opened it yet.” I look between them, suspicion making my eyes narrow. “Why do you both seem like you already know what’s in there? Did you open it before I came back?”

“Hey,” Morgan calls out, and we all turn toward the open front door. Apparently, everyone I know has the code to the keypad on our front door now. “What’s going on?” She looks between all of us, and then at the black box sitting on the table. Suddenly, she looks a bit embarrassed.

“You know what’s in that box, too, don’t you?” I ask her. Why am I the only one who is so clueless? My mind is spinning, trying to think of what Drew could have sent that all three of them would immediately recognize.

Morgan’s eyes sweep back and forth between all of us, and she makes a face like she’s trying to smile, but her teeth are clenched together, which makes Jules laugh. “Am I supposed to say yes, or no?”

“How do you know what Drew sent me?”

“Drew sent that?” she asks with a laugh. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

“Alright. Now I freaking have to know, right now.”

Jules hands me a pair of scissors as I approach the box, and that’s when I notice that the box has an embossed black-on-black diamond pattern—it’s super subtle, but distinct—the type of pattern you’d remember if you’d seen it before.

It’s the kind of box where the front flap pulls out, so I turn it on its side and slide the blade through the tape at the seam, then set it down flat and lift the front. Inside, there’s black tissue paper with a crisp white envelope sitting on top. I open it and read it out loud. “To hold you over until I get back from this trip. Drew.”

I look up and all three of them are very clearly holding in laughter. What the actual fuck is happening? I have a feeling that whatever’s in here, I’m going to be embarrassed about it, so I start to close the lid.

Jules’s hand shoots out and grips my wrist. “No way. You have to open it now! You can’t just leave us hanging like this. We need to know what’s inside.”

“It seems like you already do?”

“I mean, we know what’s in there, but not what’s in there.”

“That makes no sense,” I say with a shake of my head.

“Just open the damn package, Audrey!” Lauren is clearly exasperated. “We obviously all know what comes in that particular box, so you’re about to be initiated into this club.”

“I didn’t know we had a club,” Morgan says as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail.

“We didn’t, until now,” Lauren says, then focuses her eyes back on me. “Open it.”

I tear the gold foil sticker off the black tissue paper and lift out a smaller box, probably about ten inches long and five inches square, surrounded in bubble wrap. It’s not until I’ve unwrapped it and am lifting the last layer off that I can tell exactly what it is. I feel my whole face flush, until I’m sure I’m beet red. Because pictured on the outside of the box is an enormous and very realistic dildo, balls and all.

“Ohhh,” Jules says. “That’s a good one.”

My mouth drops open as I look up at all three of them, who are now openly laughing at my discomfort. I drop it into the bigger box and slam the lid down. “Beyond how fucking embarrassing this is,” I say in a rush, “I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’ve all seen this box before.”

“It’s from the leading online retailer for…you know…sex toys,” Morgan says. “They have discreet but distinctive packaging. I think it’s intended that you know what’s just arrived, but no one else will know.”

“Well, fail on both accounts, then!” I practically yell. Then I turn to my sister. “And what do you mean, oh, that’s a good one? Do you have this already?”

Jules bites the corner of her lip, just like I do when I’m nervous. “I mean, yeah. It’s not my go-to, but I do have it. That suction cup at the bottom makes it great for the shower.”

My mouth drops open. The shower? “Not your go-to? Like, you have others?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?” Lauren asks, coming to Jules’s defense.

“Am I the only one without a vibrator collection?” I ask, horrified at the thought that at twenty-eight I’m apparently the grandma of the group—or at least when it comes to my own self-care.

They all just kind of shrug, and then my eyes narrow in on Lauren. “Okay, the rest of us are single. But why do you…need these?”

She takes a sip of her mimosa and says, “Your brother travels a lot.”

“Aaaaaand”—Jules says loudly—“that’s all the info we need.”

“I can’t believe that you all have been holding out on me! I’ve been single for the past four years.” I look at my sister, since Lauren and Morgan haven’t been in my life that long. “And you didn’t once think to tell me what I was missing out on?”

“I mean, I kind of assumed you knew what a vibrator was,” Jules laughs as she reaches out for two more champagne flutes on the counter behind her.

“Knowing they exist and knowing that everyone is already using them feel like two very different things in this instance.”

“Well then,” Morgan says, “you’re about to have a whole new kind of sexual awakening.”

“I feel like we need to toast to that!” She hands me and Morgan each a flute, and then the three of them hold theirs up while Jules laughs and says, “To Audrey’s vagina!”

I shake my head, but I’m laughing as I raise my glass. And I already can’t wait to tell Drew this story when he calls after his game tonight. I hope he doesn’t care that the first thing they do is take that box out and start commenting on the size of that realistic dildo and speculating whether Drew’s is really eight inches long, or if that’s just wishful thinking.

I neither confirm nor deny their theories.

When the video call comes in, I’m already in bed, waiting to talk to him.

“Hey,” I say. “Good game. I’m sorry about the outcome.” The Rebels lost earlier tonight in Arizona, and it was a close game. Drew and the rest of the team played well, but Arizona played better. It’s their first loss of the season, and not how you want to start a series of away games.

“Thanks,” Drew says, holding the phone in front of him as he walks farther into his hotel room. He’s still wearing his game day suit, this time a dark grey with a blue shirt under it. I’d seen the video footage of the players’ arrival at the game on the team’s social media feed, and I’m not going to lie, I was thrilled that Drew was the best dressed of the bunch. I mean, Colt’s always been the fashion icon of the team, but lately, it doesn’t feel like he’s trying to hold up that reputation as much.

“You doing okay?” I ask.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” He sets the phone down, and I imagine it’s propped up against the TV because of the way it’s tilted up at him and because I see the big king-size bed behind him. He slides his arms out of his jacket and sets it carefully on the end of the bed.

“I got your note, by the way,” I tell him.

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?” I ask, and Drew gives me a shrug like, Who knows? “It was stuck to my laptop and said I hope you have a good day. I can’t wait to see you in a week.”

“Not that either of us is counting, though,” he says as he unbuttons his dress shirt.

“Oh, I’m counting, alright. I need you back here. I already miss you.” It feels both foreign and freeing to be so honest with him, but he’s never been anything but honest with me and he deserves that in return.

“I miss you too,” he says, a soft smile curling his lips as he looks at me.

“I love your shirt, by the way,” I tell him as he slips it off his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he says, tugging at the sleeves to get them down over his muscular arms. “I got it specifically because it reminded me of a certain someone’s eyes.”

I glance at myself at the corner of my screen. He’s right, it’s almost the exact color blue of my eyes.

“Did your personal shopper pick it out?” I tease.

“She did, actually. I sent her a picture of you, told her I wanted something that matched your eyes, and she came back with this shirt.”

“Why do you have a picture of me?”

“Because I found the one on the Our House social media feed,” he says as he unbuckles his belt, and I know exactly which one he means because it’s the one Morgan posted after our lunch when I told her she could take over our social media. “I think you’re at a restaurant? Anyway, it’s a beautiful photo of you, with your bright eyes and your flushed cheeks. I can’t even look at it without getting hard.” He drops his pants and stands in front of me in his briefs, and I don’t miss the way his body is already reacting.

I shift beneath the covers and the cotton sheets graze along my nipples, sending spasming need through my body. Watching Drew undress while he tells me he can’t even look at a picture of me without getting hard has me extremely turned on.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my voice coming out breathy and needy. “Do you look at that photo often?”

“Every fucking hour.”

“Must be hard to deal with the consequences of that, no? I mean, what do you do when you can’t fix that problem right away? Just suffer through it?”

“Thinking about you is hardly suffering.”

“Just seems like you could use some help getting rid of that”—I nod my chin toward my phone as I watch the bulge in his underwear grow—“problem.”

Drew’s shoulders shake with a low laugh as he pulls his briefs down. “You mean this problem?” he asks as he palms himself and slides his hand along his length.

Suddenly, my mouth is dry, my lips parched. So I lick them and stutter out a “Yes.”

He swipes his phone off the dresser and carries it over to the bed, and I miss the sight of his body but love the close-up of his face. He looks like he skipped shaving today, and it suits him.

“What do you propose we do about it, with you in Boston and me half-way across the country?”

“I have a few ideas. You see, I received a package today⁠—”

“And you didn’t lead with this info?” Drew’s voice is full of mock outrage.

I tell him about opening the package with my sister and friends, and his chest shakes with laughter as he settles into his sheets. “Whoops.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t mind that they’re speculating about the size of your dick…”

He lifts one shoulder and gives me a little smirk. “Let them wonder.”

I pull the toy out from beneath the sheets, where it’s been waiting for his call, and hold it up for him to see. I’d washed it and charged it earlier so it’d be ready for this moment, and I honestly found it a bit hard not to take it for a test drive before talking to him.

As if he can read my mind, Drew takes one look at it and asks, “Did you test it out yet?”

“No, I wanted to wait until we talked.”

“You know it’s for you to use whenever you want, right? As much as I know I’m going to love watching you use that thing, I bought it for your pleasure, not mine.”

“Yes, and while I appreciate that, I still wanted this to be a you and me thing.”

“Audrey, everything is a you and me thing. If you were using that and I wasn’t on the phone with you, would you be thinking about me?”

“Of course,” I say as I take my free hand and explore the tip of the vibrator. It does feel surprisingly realistic.

“Good. Because there’s never a time that I’m jerking myself off that I’m not thinking of you, and there never will be.”

“Good,” I say right back to him. I don’t know how we got so serious so quickly, but I’m done fighting it.

“Why are you still hiding under those covers?” he asks. I can see the upper half of his body, so quid pro quo, I push the blankets down to my stomach. He sucks in a breath and then sighs. “You really do have perfect tits, you know?”

Lying on my side, facing him, they’re falling forward and look even bigger than normal.

“Do I?” I ask, taking the head of the vibrator and running it around one of my nipples.

“Holy shit, Audrey,” he says, his words escaping like trapped air hissing out between his lips. “Do that again, but turn it on.”

I do as he suggests, and as the vibrations move through my nipple, it’s like someone’s connected it to my core. My hips curl forward, my pussy clenching with need, so I push the sheets down and bring the vibrator to my clit. “Oh crap,” I say, the words slipping out the minute the vibrations hit that sensitive spot.

On the other end of the phone, Drew’s stroking himself and sending words of encouragement my way. “That’s right,” he says, watching intently as I circle the vibrator over and around my clit, “get yourself good and ready.”

I bring my other hand to my breast, squeezing it gently and pinching my nipple between my fingers. My hips find a rhythm as they move against the vibrations, and it doesn’t take long before I can feel an orgasm coming on. My body is tense and my back arches, my toes curling as my breath comes in soft pants.

“Alright, beautiful,” Drew says, and my pussy clenches in response. “Let’s see you fuck yourself with that thing.”

I’m so close to coming, I can’t speak, so I lift my top leg, setting my foot behind my bottom leg. I run the fat head of the vibrator through the slickness that coats my entrance, back and forth, ever so slowly, while Drew hisses out a long “Yes.”

I slide it in an inch, letting my body adjust to the size, because it really is as big as Drew. And then I pull it out a bit and slide it in a little more, and the combination of being so full and the vibrations moving through my muscles have me immediately clenching around it.

“Hit the button again so it’s thrusting inside you,” Drew says, but I don’t know if I can take any more pleasure. I’m so full, and this is so much. “Now.”

My eyes snap to his, and I give him a lazy smile. “Yes, sir.”

He legit growls in response, the low sound reverberating across the video in a way that has me wishing he was here physically. I’m always wanting him with me lately.

When I press the button at the base, the vibrator lengthens even farther, then contracts, over and over. It feels enough like Drew that I relax into the sensation, letting it pull me toward the edge of my orgasm.

“What are you thinking about?” Drew asks, and I open my eyes to look at him. He’s a model of physical perfection as he lies there jerking himself off, watching me with this sex toy filling me up.

“How amazing this feels, but how I wish it was you instead.”

“Honey, if I was there, you’d already be on orgasm number two. Maybe three.”

The laugh shakes my abdomen, and with the vibrator thrusting inside me at the same time, my whole body convulses.

“That’s a good girl,” Drew says. “Now touch yourself.”

“Drew, the feeling is already so intense.”

“Audrey, I need to see you run your fingers over that gorgeous swollen clit while you fuck that perfect pussy of yours, because I need you to come. Right. Fucking. Now.” He grunts those last words out through gritted teeth, and that’s when I see how close he is. How every muscle in his abdomen is contracted, how he’s biting his bottom lip with a look that borders on pain as he holds himself off until I come.

So I reach down and slide my finger over the ball of nerves, and my muscles clench deep inside, a fast contracting and releasing that has my knees curling up—and as I do, the vibrator slides along the top edge of my inner wall, hitting the perfect place.

“Fuck yes,” Drew grunts out, and it’s followed by a guttural sound. But I barely hear him orgasming through the pleasure that’s erupting inside me as I come harder than I’ve ever been able to make myself come, the waves of sensation rolling through me for what feels like forever as I ride out my pleasure.

When I finally pull the vibrator out of me and hit the button to turn it off, I open my eyes to find Drew watching me, a shit-eating grin on his face. “That was so fucking hot. But my God, are you loud.”

“Shh,” I tell him. “Or I’ll replace you with this thing.”

“Fucking say that again, and I’ll tie you to the bed and make you come so many times you beg me to stop.” There’s a dangerous and determined glint in his eyes.

“That sounds like a challenge.” I raise my eyebrow as I repeat, “Shhh…or I’ll replace you with this thing.”

“Challenge accepted,” Drew says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t make plans the night I come back.”


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