Authors: Robin Cavanaugh
*****
“How could you do this to me?” Colby pleaded. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”
His lips trembled with rage. Tears welled up in his eyes. He never cried, especially not in front of another person.
Tears streamed down Ivanka’s cheeks. Her body began to shake. She cast her eyes down at the floor.
Colby’s suspicions were confirmed. She was in on it all along. All her words, her promises, all her love and affection, it had all been a game, a trap that he’d fallen into.
“I'm sorry,” Ivanka said. “So sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like this.”
Finally, she’d come clean. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any more lies. Colby wouldn't be able to tolerate any more of her bullshit.
“Baby,” Ivanka said. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't. But they offered me so much money. I couldn’t turn it down.”
“Who?” Colby said lunging towards her. “Who offered you the money? Tell me!”
“Please forgive me,” she said. “I didn't mean to do it. But I had no choice.”
“Who?” Colby screamed in her face.
“There was some guy,” she said her voice trembling, unable to maintain eye contact. “From Boston.”
Ivanka closed her eyes and ducked, as if she expected his fists to start flying, pummeling her into submission, leaving her broken and bruised on the floor. It wouldn't be the first time that she had ended up like that, not the first time that she'd tapped into something primal and hateful inside a man’s psyche.
“I knew it,” Colby said, taking two steps backward, releasing Ivanka from his menacing grip.
He lowered his head, shook it from side to side.
“So you were recording me this whole time?” Colby asked. “Everything?”
Ivanka had a strange, surprised look on her face.
“What are you talking about?” She asked.
“Stop bullshitting,” Colby said. “You know exactly what I'm talking about.”
“I swear to God,” Ivanka said. “I never filmed or recorded anything that we did together.”
Colby snickered. No way did he believe her. She was still trying to deceive him. Still covering for somebody or someone. Not revealing who it was who had cut the check and sent her on this deceitful mission.
But he wouldn't give up that easily.
“You said that you would tell the truth,” Colby said. “No more lies. No more games. No more bullshit.”
“And that's what I'm doing,” Ivanka said. “What did they tell you?”
Colby sighed and shook his head. “They told me that they had recordings. Video and audio. Hours of them.
“I didn't do any of that. I swear,” Ivanka said. “They told me that they would snap a few pictures on the first couple dates. And that would be enough.”
Colby turned towards her, eyebrows raised.
“For the first two dates?” He said. “What was supposed to happen on the next dates?”
The silence was long and intense and seemed to stretch on forever. Or maybe it froze time. They were the last two souls on the face of the earth, facing each other, neither willing to back down, both of them full of love and pride.
Ivanka brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, slowly raised her eyes to meet Colby’s.
“They didn't say anything about what was going to happen after the first two dates,” she said, maintaining eye contact the whole time.
Colby hesitated before responding, swallowing with difficulty, then loudly cleared his throat.
He never got like this. He never got choked up when talking to a woman. But he wasn't talking to a woman. But in a certain sense, he absolutely was. It was all so confusing. He had yet to make sense of what this relationship meant for his sexuality. He had yet to make sense of what it meant about his masculinity. Those were questions that he would most likely struggle with over the next few days, weeks, months, even years. It wouldn't be easy. But he was willing to fight against prejudice and against the rampant homophobia that bubble just beneath the surface, just beneath that tolerant veneer that society presented.
Sure, gay people might now be accepted. They were born that way, but he was in a different category, straddling the fence, not black not white but gray, not committing to one side or the other. He was dangerous, unwanted, and unnatural. Perverse. That's what he was. A pervert. Everyone would agree on that. Make up your mind they would say. There is no in between. There is no bi-sexual. You're just a fag on the down low, waiting for the opportunity to take some cock in your mouth and ass. Isn't that right? They would say with a snicker and a dismissive, hateful look in their eyes. Isn't that right?
It killed Colby to think that maybe they were right after all. Maybe he was a fraud. Maybe his heterosexuality was just a bunch of make-believe, plaster put over the real him. A mask meant to hide his deeply and profoundly homoerotic self.
Colby could feel the rage bubbling up in his stomach. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth. Veins bulged in his neck and forehead. Ivanka took several steps backward. She crouched as if preparing to receive a hail of blows.
Colby had never hit a woman before. He wasn't sure how much of a woman she really was. But he didn't want to hit her anyway. The rage he felt, the anger he felt in his stomach, wasn't really for Ivanka. He believed her story. For the most part. Women always left something out. He would get everything out of her eventually.
He saw how the pieces fit into place. This had been the plan all along: to throw him off his game during this critical playoff series. The plan had worked, almost.
Colby had struggled for the last several weeks, unable to score, getting into fights, and generally being the least productive member of the team.
He even got benched for more than ten minutes, which was something unheard of. That had never happened to him before in his career. It was the wake-up call that he needed. Figuring out what exactly was going on with Ivanka, figuring out who exactly was blackmailing him, and why, was just what he needed as well.
He felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
“What are you going to do if they release the tape before the first game?” Ivanka asked.
“I'm not even going to worry about that,” Colby said. “It doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter.”
“It matters a lot,” Ivanka said. “Your career, your reputation. Lots of endorsement money. All those things matter and you know they do.”
“Yes, I know. All those things do matter, but I have to be true to myself,” Colby said. “Or else none of it makes sense. None of that shit is worth anything if I have to pretend in order to have them.”
Ivanka lowered her eyes. A slight smile broke out on her face, then quickly disappeared, but it was there long enough for Colby to catch it. He had a pretty good feeling what it meant. He had a pretty good feeling that she was very receptive to what he was saying. Maybe she would be able to forgive him for his outburst, his tantrum, his inability to keep his calm.
Ivanka raised her beautiful green eyes and fixed them on Colby. Then began walking towards him, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. She came closer and closer, stopping inches in front of him.
“I've been waiting to do this for so long,” Colby said. “So fucking long.”
“I know,” Ivanka said, throwing her head back and brushing a long strand of hair behind her ear. “Me too. Every night before I go to bed I start thinking about you, and—”
*****
That was all Colby needed to hear.
Colby closed his eyes reached out and pulled her full-figured body to him. He loved Ivanka's long legs, her big tits and huge, pointy nipples, and, of course, her round, soft ass. Yes, he loved all those things. There was no question about it. But at the same time, there was no denying that he thoroughly enjoyed the sight and then the feel and the taste of her cock.
A beautiful, slightly curved circumcised purple headed cock with the big thick veins running down the middle of the meaty shaft. It was his first cock. The first piece of dick meat that he’d ever held in his hands. It was so strange. It didn't feel anything like his cock, at least not at first as he stroked the semi-hard shaft up and down, on his knees in front of her, her hand on top of his head.
He never would've imagined that something like that would’ve been possible. He was the submissive? He was the bottom? No, this couldn't be happening. But it felt so good. He looked down at his cock. It was hard and twitching, ready to go, ready to plunge into a tight asshole, pump in and out, in and out and covered with ass juice. Then he would pull it out and tell her to turn around and give it a good suck. Lick it clean. That would be so primal, so fucking primal. Just thinking about it was sending the pre-cum leaking out of his cock onto the carpet. He could explode at any second.
*****
After they had finished making love, they lay in bed, sweaty, panting, legs and arms intertwined.
Colby turned to Ivanka, brushed a long tangle of blonde hair out of her face, and stared into her golden green eyes.
“You're so beautiful,” he said. “More beautiful than any woman I've ever seen.”
Ivanka ran a finger down his cheek and smiled sadly.
“What's wrong baby?” Colby asked.
Ivanka turned away, covered her mouth, and hid her eyes.
“What's wrong?” Colby asked again.
She completely turned away from him and threw her head down on the bed. She was shaking convulsively, sobbing.
Colby didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Had he said something to offend her?
“Please, tell me what it is,” Colby said.
He felt bad. He still wasn't quite used to this dating arrangement. Dating a woman, who wasn't quite a woman? It was still so strange to him.
For the next ten minutes or so, Colby held Ivanka as she cried, sobbed, cleansed herself. He didn’t badger her with questions. He was doing all that he could do. He was doing exactly what she needed him to do, just being there, being her rock, her emotional ballast, the man to hold her in his strong, powerful alpha arms.
After a while, she’d finally calmed down. She wiped the tears clean from her face, sniffled, laughed and smiled as if she were embarrassed by her inability to control herself.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “It's stupid. But I get like this sometimes. I can't help it.”
“That's okay,” Colby said. “It really is. If you don’t want to talk about it, then we don't have to. That's perfectly fine with me.”
Ivanka sniffled, looked away, looked back at Colby, and then looked away again. Colby had never seen her like this. He was worried. What could possibly be eating at her, gnawing at her soul, keeping her from enjoying this wonderful moment that they’d been experiencing together?
“It's just… this isn’t the first time that I've been with a macho, alpha guy,” Ivanka said. “And it's never worked out before.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Colby said. “I'm not any of those other guys.”
“Well, how long do I have to wait before you introduce me to your friends? To your family?” She asked.
“I don't know,” Colby said, defensively. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple months now.”
Ivanka crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't seem convinced by that answer.
Colby had been thrown off guard by the question. He loved spending time with her. He really did. And it went beyond the physical. He was sure that. There was a real connection between them. But introduce her to his friends and family? He definitely wasn’t ready for that. He still had so much to lose if this affair were revealed, if the tabloids got wind of the fact that Colby Matthews, NHL star, leading candidate for the MVP award, was gay. That wouldn't go over well at all.
“I hadn't really thought about that,” Colby said.
“Bullshit,” Ivanka said, throwing off the covers off and getting out of the bed.
As she walked towards Colby’s closet, she crossed her arms over her chest.
Colby couldn't help but admire the bounce of her tits, the jiggle of her ass.
She went to one of Colby's closets and pulled out a robe and slipped into it. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, lowered her head into her hands.
Oh no, Colby thought. Is she going to start crying again? I don't know if I can handle any more of this emotional shit.
He would’ve never said that out loud, would never have wanted to hurt her, to show that maybe he was getting a bit annoyed, a bit tired of her clinginess. They'd only been together for two months. Why did he have to introduce her to his friends and family?
But he knew that he wasn't quite honest. He did feel somewhat ashamed, worried what family and friends would say about him. He was also worried how quickly the rumors would spread if anyone outside of his close personal circle was to find out.
“How about this?” Colby said. “I'll throw a big party for my friends and family, and you'll be my date.”
“Really?” Ivanka said, her eyes lighting up with excitement and optimism. “When?”
“The day after I win the MVP award,” Colby said.
“The MVP?” Ivanka said. “What does that have to do with us?”
“It's just that I wanted it to be a really big celebration,” Colby said. “Everyone there will be people that have known me for a long time. I'd love to introduce you to them as my new girlfriend.”
Most of what he’d just said was true. But there was one part that he wasn't telling Ivanka, one part that he’d left out of his explanation, and that had to do with the MVP trophy itself. He’d been the front runner all year long. Lately, things that tightened up a bit. But he was still thought to be the favorite because he played in the massive New York market.
He had to win that award. It was something he’d dreamed about all his life. Of course, he’d dreamed about winning the Stanley Cup as well. But individually, he’d always wanted to prove himself as a great scorer. He'd always wanted to win the MVP trophy.
This was the best chance he had yet in his career. It may be years before he had a chance this good before he got this close to the trophy. He didn’t want to take any risks, didn't want to compromise himself in the voting. There was no way he could let this cat out of the bag before the results were made official.
The next day, Colby woke up bright and early, stretched his arms and yawned. His body ached. It would be another long hard day. No, it wouldn't. He smiled. This was the day. He would be crowned MVP. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table, checked his messages. Nothing from the league. Nothing from his agent.
What was going on? They were supposed to call. Wasn't that what happened when you won the MVP? He went into the living room, flicked on the television, turned to Sports Center.
Breaking News: George Simmons Named NHL MVP.
Colby gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. Then he slammed the remote on the floor. How the fuck did this happen?