Breathless 4 (Breathless #4) (4 page)

It was so hard for me to focus as I watched the game,
staring at Johnny. He had no idea I was there, which almost made it harder for
me to decide how I felt about him; he was totally unguarded, completely
himself. I could see that he was the same way with his teammates as he had been
with me from the very beginning, but I also saw that he definitely had an
aggressive side. He pushed and shoved, he crashed into other players with his
shoulder; I saw him send one of the other team’s players sliding sprawled on
the ice in a quick sideswipe movement that was all too reminiscent of my
near-miss in the car ride up to the college and felt sick to my stomach. But
just because someone was capable of being aggressive in an aggressive sport
didn’t mean that they were capable of abusing their girlfriend, did it?

Our team once more increased their lead, Johnny
getting in a rapid-fire goal. I realized watching them play that I had started,
almost without realizing it, to learn the game, to understand what was going on
around me. I cheered with the people in the section, though I didn’t call
Johnny’s name. No one seemed to know who I was, and at least at an away game
like this, I didn’t see the stupid redhead from the dining hall screaming for
my boyfriend or flashing him. It was obvious that Johnny was a big fan favorite
everywhere — there were plenty of girls shouting for him, but he seemed to
ignore them all. I didn’t know whether I should be flattered by that or not. I
didn’t know at all how I felt about what I was seeing. I didn’t know what to
think.

The game began to wind down, and our team settled for
playing defense, holding the other team, already exhausted, but still desperate
to even the score and take it into overtime, at bay. As long as they could
manage to keep the other team from scoring more than one point, they would win.
It seemed almost like a foregone conclusion to me, and I nearly got out of my
seat, impatient for the game to be over. I remembered Johnny telling me — about
the team he was watching on TV — that his team always won. I hadn’t thought
about it much since that night, but there was something almost sinister about
that comment. I made myself hold still and just stare straight in front of me,
cheering when everyone around me did, not really paying attention to the
commentary or even what was going on. If it was true that Johnny had done
something to torture his own girlfriend, then I wouldn’t have to know anything
at all about hockey anymore. I was not going to stay with a man who could do
that.
Do you know he did that? Are you
even going to give him an opportunity to explain what happened? Or are you just
here to shove what you’ve already decided in his face?
I took a deep
breath. I was going to let him explain, but I was going to make sure that I
didn’t give him an opportunity to charm me out of it or brush aside the need to
explain anything. My need to know for sure was more important than the desire
to not believe that Johnny was capable of what he was being accused of. I had
to know the truth.

Chapter
Five

The game finally ended and I waited for everyone to
file out of the stands, watching as Johnny and his teammates celebrated on the
sidelines, laughing and cheering and jostling each other like the boys they
were. I sighed, wondering just how I was going to manage to get a chance to
talk to him. I waited until everyone had left the bleachers except for me and
then I wandered out, clenching my ticket in my hands. There had to be a locker
room area I could get to; the stadium wasn’t that big.

I wandered around and around, wondering if I had lost
my mind or if I was going around in circles, until I found what I wanted. The
stadium was next to deserted, and I felt my fear creeping back up inside of me.
It had to take a lot of time for a whole team of guys to get showered and
changed, didn’t it? But I couldn’t tell how long I had been wandering in order
to find the visitor locker room. I wasn’t even entirely sure if I had found the
right one. I fidgeted as I waited, wondering just how long I could make myself
stand there, looking like an idiot. No one, apparently, had waited to talk to
the guys after the game. Their smaller group of fans this far away from the
college probably just wanted to get home. It wasn’t super late in the evening,
but late enough that I was starting to wonder if I had been an idiot to drive
so far just to watch the last part of a winning game and not even accomplish
what I had come for.

Just as I was beginning to lose hope, players started
to come out of the locker room; one or two of them leered at me but kept
walking, and I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to deal with them, too.
I kept looking for Johnny to come out as more and more of the players emerged. I
knew he had to be there — I had seen him on the ice, hadn’t I?
What if he showered fast and just went back
to the bus?
I pushed the thought aside.

A small group of players came out, walking a little
more slowly than the other guys I’d seen, and I recognized them as friends of
Johnny’s, and I thought I remembered seeing them at the Phi Kappa party. “Hey,
Becky! Johnny didn’t say you were coming out to support us,” one of them said,
spotting me. I smiled nervously.

“I didn’t know I was coming out until I did,” I said,
trying to keep my voice level. “He hasn’t already gone back to the bus, has he?
I kind of wanted to talk to him.” Johnny’s teammate flashed me a grin.

“Nah, he’s being a prima donna in there. You can go on
in; we’re the last ones out besides him. It’s a good thing you’re here. If he
isn’t out in five, he’s going to miss the bus. At least he’ll have a ride
home.” I tried to laugh, but my heart was already beating faster. Johnny was
alone in the locker room. I tried to think of why he would still be in there.
Maybe he’d finally gotten my texts. He had no idea I was only a few yards away
from him.

“Thanks,” I told the player. I let him give me a quick
hug before he and the others went on their way towards the parking lot and the
waiting bus there, and then took a deep breath. I was going to go in there, and
I was going to ask the questions that had been weighing on me all this time.

It felt weird walking into a men’s locker room, even
though I could see as soon as I came to the end of the hallway leading into it
that the other guys on the team hadn’t been lying — there was no one else in
there. I wandered past the lockers, looking around, feeling almost
pervy
. The smell of sweat and male funk was so strong I
almost didn’t want to breathe through my nose. I heard the sound of a shower
running and started off in that direction.

I found the line of showers — open, not even a single
curtain to give any privacy — just in time to watch Johnny hang his towel on a
hook, safely out of the range of the shower heads. As firmly as I’d told myself
that I wasn’t going to get distracted, I found myself staring at him. I had
seen him naked so many times already that it should have been easy to just call
his name and start talking to him, but I had somehow managed to forget just how
gorgeous he was.
God. It’s not even fair.
My gaze moved down from Johnny’s sweat-darkened hair, along his broad, strong
shoulders and muscular back. His legs were built up from hours upon hours of
skating, and I could make out every ridge and valley where the muscles had
built up. My legs felt weak and in spite of my determination to talk to him, I
felt myself getting hot all over, my pussy starting to get wet.

I bit my lip as Johnny stepped into the steaming
water, tilting his head back to let it pour over his face and through his short
hair. I watched it sluice down his body and leaned against the wall, staring
without even caring that I had come there for a specific purpose. Johnny bent
over and I watched his muscles flex and move as he picked up a bottle of shower
gel. He lathered up a washcloth and stepped slightly out of the shower’s flow
and my mouth watered as I watched him soap himself up everywhere, spreading
foamy white suds over his muscled body. I shook my head. There was no way my mom
was right. Johnny couldn’t have lied to me; Mom was just being ridiculous.
Who hires a private investigator to check
out their daughter’s boyfriend, anyway?
It was crazy. It was just the sort
of thing that my mom would do to try to keep me from dating someone she had
already decided was not rich enough to matter.

But there wasn’t just my mom; there were people
online, there was what the PI had found — why would there be a sealed police
file on Johnny if he wasn’t somehow involved in the whole crazy mess? I was
worrying at my bottom lip, trying to decide how I felt. My arousal at the sight
of Johnny naked, soaping himself up, his strong hands moving over his body
quickly, was at odds with my deep panic and despair. Just as I was struggling
to decide which feeling was stronger, Johnny’s head turned, and then the rest
of his body. He was staring straight at me, his eyes wide. “Becky!”

He stepped out of the shower’s flow in an instant and
came towards me, an instant smile on his face. “I had no idea you were coming. What
are you doing here?” He looked so pleased, so happy to see me, so oblivious of
everything that was going on in my mind. His innocent question brought back
everything in a rush. I remembered exactly what I was doing in that locker
room, exactly why I had driven two hours to come and confront him. My eyes
tingled and I felt my breath hitching.

In between one heartbeat and the next, I started to
cry. I couldn’t imagine confronting this man, who was clearly so delighted to
see me, who didn’t have any idea that anything was wrong, but I had to. Johnny
was in front of me in an instant, reaching out to me with wet hands, holding my
shoulders in a firm-but-gentle grip. “Becky, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked me.
I shook my head, crying too much to talk.

“I—I—I—you—I can’t…my—and y-you—talk…” I couldn’t make
my mouth work properly; I stuttered, sobs tearing through me, and tried to get
a hold of myself, but couldn’t seem to even form the words properly in my own
mind. Johnny pulled me into his arms, stroking my back gently, murmuring that
it was okay, that everything was all right and he was right there; all I had to
do was tell him what was on my mind. I still couldn’t make myself form the
words.

He turned my face up and before I could even finish
trying to find a way to speak properly, his lips were on mine. I melted into
him, pressing along his hard, wet body. I felt ashamed that I didn’t stop him. I
couldn’t even stop myself responding to the kiss, meeting his tongue with my own,
letting my hands wander over his naked body. It was such a relief to be in his
arms, it felt so good and so right to be kissing him, to be alone with him. I
felt the ache in my side starting to dissolve, the tension in my back that I
hadn’t even felt going away as I pressed against him all over. “Are you okay?”
Johnny asked, barely breaking away from my lips.

I made a decision; I started to unbutton my blouse. “I
need you,” I said. “I need…I need to be with you.” Johnny smiled, and his hands
moved over my body, helping me every step of the way as I stripped every piece
of clothing off, letting it fall to the floor. Johnny smiled, kissing me again
for just a moment before he led me back towards the running shower.

He reached up to the back of my head and gently pulled
the elastic out, freeing my hair to tumble down around my shoulders. I gasped
as the hot water hit me, rushing down along my skin and unknotting muscles I
hadn’t even known were tense. Johnny’s hands wandered all over me, touching and
teasing, and I started to caress him, too, exploring every ridge and line of
his body. Whatever else was happening, whatever else I should be thinking about,
was unimportant. The only thing I needed then was to touch Johnny, to feel him,
to kiss him. Johnny pulled me close, holding us both under the shower’s flow,
and I kissed him hungrily, desperately. He was still slick with soap and water,
and I felt his cock pressing against me, already hard.

I pushed him away slightly and sank down onto my knees
in front of him. “You were amazing out there,” I said, for the moment, at
least, not thinking of what his aggression might mean. I wrapped my hand around
the base of his cock and began to stroke him; Johnny groaned, head falling back
against his shoulders as his hips began to move in reaction. I brought my lips
up to his erection and licked the tip as I stroked the base, working him with
my fingers. I wrapped my mouth around him and the salty-sharp taste of his
precum
, already starting to flow, coated my tongue. He
tasted so good — even with the lingering taste of the soap that was still on
his skin. I closed my eyes and worshipped Johnny with my mouth, sucking and
licking, taking more and more of him in. His fingers tangled in my hair, and
his hips moved to the movements of my lips, but he never tried to force me,
never pulled or pushed; he let me go at my own pace and as I heard his moans
filling the air, I found myself getting more and more turned on.

He pushed me away gently; his cock had begun to
twitch, little spasms that made me sure he was on the verge of orgasm. Johnny
lifted me up onto my feet gently and kissed me on the lips, his hands moving to
cup my breasts and tease my nipples into firm little nubs before drifting down
between my legs. “I’m so glad you came out,” he murmured against my lips. “I’ve
been thinking about you all day, all night.” Johnny chuckled lowly, his fingers
slipping and sliding along the folds of my labia. “I was going to sneak into
your room and surprise you again as soon as we got back to campus.” His fingers
pressed against me and I moaned, pushing myself down to meet his touch as I
became wetter and wetter by the moment. He found my clit and began to stroke
me, his other hand moving all over my body, tickling and caressing, cupping my
breast.