Home > Garrett (Cold Fury Hockey #2)

Garrett (Cold Fury Hockey #2)
Author: Sawyer Bennett

Prologue

Garrett

The music penetrates the deepest, most satisfying sleep I’ve had in a while. I had set the alarm on my iPhone to go off at six A.M. and the bone-jarring tunes of White Zombie’s “Thunder Kiss ’65” blares at me, a song that never fails to get me motivated. Which I need if I’m going to tear myself away from the tangle of arms and legs that surround me.

I dislodge the woman’s head that’s resting on one of my shoulders, and rather than hit “snooze” or turn off the music, I hit the volume button and turn it up even more. Rob Zombie’s razor-wire voice and thumping bass vibrate within me, and the other woman, whose head is resting on my chest with one arm wrapped around my waist, jerks in her sleep.

“Turn that down,” she mutters as she pushes up off my body and looks at me with bleary eyes. Golden blond hair that comes down almost to her ass floats all around her body, and she is quite the vision. I think her name is Donna.

Shoulder-resting woman gives a loud yawn and also pushes up off me, swiping her equally golden blond hair from her face. “What time is it?”

Bringing one hand to her hip, I stroke her skin and give her my most charming smile. “It’s time for me to get on the road. I have to be at the arena in a few hours.”

She smiles back at me, but it’s filled with mischief and hunger. I think her name is Debbie, but I can’t be sure. Both women look eerily similar and could definitely pass as sisters, and hell…maybe they are, for all I know. What I do know is that they brought me home with them last night after we all posed in a photo shoot for a men’s fashion magazine. It was a cheesy spread, in my opinion, where they had me in a tuxedo and the women wearing nothing but thong underwear as they undressed me. As the photographer snapped photo after photo while saying things like “Oh, that is hot. You are scorching my lens” and “More lust…I must feel a little more lust,” I let my mind drift away to the upcoming training camp that would be starting tomorrow.

I was so ready to get back to playing hockey. This summer has been great and I’ve been spending my time burning up the golf course with Alex, my best friend on the Cold Fury team, and hitting the beautiful beaches on the coast of North Carolina. But that can sustain an athlete like me for only so long. Especially when I eat, breathe, and dream hockey.

“How about we give you a nice send-off?” Donna says.

Or is that Debbie?

No clue.

She lays her hand on my chest and scrapes her nails down to my abdomen. The other woman—shit if I know which one is which—leans down to swirl her tongue around one of my nipples.

And, damn…that feels good, and my cock perks up in slight interest. I know what both of these women can do to me, as we did it quite well last night.

But I work my way past the threat of a lust-induced haze and push myself up out of their ministrations to crawl off the bed.

“Sorry, sweet girls,” I tell them with a grin as they both flop down to the bed in a huff. “I have too much to do today. But last night was amazing. Best I’ve ever had.”

That’s true enough. That was my first time with two women at once, and it’s definitely something I’m interested in trying again.

“How about an encore performance tonight, then?” one of them says as she dips a perfectly manicured finger into her mouth and sucks on it.

Yeah…interested in trying that again, just not with these two. They were fucking fantastic last night, but I rarely do repeats because it smacks too much of commitment.

“Can’t tonight,” I say as I lean down and pick through some of the clothing on the floor. I toss a couple pairs of panties at them and then reach for my jeans that had been discarded. Not bothering to look for my own underwear because I wasn’t wearing any to start, I pull my pants on, giving a little hop to get them up around my waist, and quickly zip my fly. “I have plans.”

“Maybe some other night?” the other one asks as she rolls off the bed and starts to get dressed.

“Sure,” I lie through my teeth as I pull my T-shirt over my head. “Leave me your number and I’ll give you a call.”

And then they are both forgotten. I leave the little apartment that belonged to Debbie—or was it Donna?—then mentally start thinking about all the things I need to do today. Eat, shower, and then head to the arena for the team photos. I’m stoked to see all my teammates after a long break over the summer. Most of them have been traveling and spending as much time with their families as possible, because, let’s face it…our game schedule is grueling and we are gone from home just as much as we are here.

After the photos this morning, Alex and I plan to get a good workout in, then tonight we’re having an end-of-summer team party at Coach Pretore’s house, where Alex and I will probably tie a good one on in celebration.

Alex Crossman, my best mate and lineman, who just got engaged a few months ago to one of the coolest chicks I know, is about the coolest dude I know. We’ve become super-tight over the summer, which was made easier by the fact that he gave up his assholeish ways after finding true love with his fiancée, Sutton. We work out together several times a week and golf just about as much. I hang out at their house a lot, and even pal around sometimes with Sutton’s kid brother, Glenn.

Yup…settling in to my life here with the Cold Fury team quite nicely. I had spent two years with the Los Angeles Dragons, three years with the Chicago Vortex where we won back-to-back Stanley Cups, one year on injured reserve with a concussion, and then a few months with the New York Vipers before being traded here. At age twenty-six, I was glad to finally be a part of a team where I not only fit in to their offense like a glove, but have made such a tight friendship with another player. I’m hoping I can live out the rest of my career here—which is probably a long shot in this business—but a man can dream, right?

   
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