Learn Your Lesson: A Single Dad Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Chloe

“Well, I have to say, it’s an honor to finally meet you,” I said a few nights later, greeting Mitch Perry in a hug that he seemed much better equipped to handle than his nephew. “Ava has talked nonstop about you since the beginning of the school year.”

“She gives this old man too much credit,” he said, flashing a warm smile when he released me. Mitch was at least twenty years Will’s senior. He possessed so many of his nephew’s features — the sharp jaw, wide shoulders, crinkles at the edge of his eyes. But his expression was warmer, his smile easy and natural where Will stood behind him with his usual scowl.

“Thanks again, Unc,” he said, handing over the large purple backpack with all of Ava’s belongings for the night. “She’s really excited.”

“Are you kidding? I’d never pass up the opportunity to spend a night with my girl. I hate how busy work has been lately. It should ease up for a while now. Then again, I guess if I had been more available, we might not have you around,” he added with a wink my way. “Also, is it you we have to thank for how smiley my great niece is? Because the sight about knocked me on my ass.”

“Yes,” Will said at the same time I said, “Oh, no.”

Will’s eyes caught mine, a warning glare like he’d fight me if I tried to hide from the compliment.

“Ava is like a new person, thanks to Chloe. She’s really come out of her shell,” Will said. “Still loves hockey, though. So I hope you’re prepared to watch a game tonight.”

Uncle Mitch sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I would rather take her to the arcade and suffer the stickiness and noise that comes with that than sit through another fucking hockey game.”

Will smirked. “I’ll pray for your eardrums, then.”

Mitch eased his hands into his pockets, rocking up on his toes and peeking into the house a bit more. “So, uh, is Arushi here? I swore I could smell her amazing cooking from outside.”

“She just left about an hour ago,” I said, and I didn’t miss the disappointment on his face. Will and I shared a curious glance, but before either of us could remark on anything, Ava bounded down the stairs.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

She had the hockey uniform I made her clutched in her arms, and she beamed up at the three of us in a way that made it hard to remember the kid she’d been at the beginning of this semester.

“Pumpkin, I’m not sure you need that,” Will tried, ruffling her hair and nodding to the jersey. “Sure you don’t want to leave it here so I can wash it and have it clean for you when you get home?”

“It’s not smelly,” she defended, sniffing it for good measure. “And I gotta show Uncle Mitch!”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Mitch said, bending to her level and offering to carry it for her. She reluctantly handed it over, and then he told her to go get herself situated in the car and he’d be right out.

Ava shot out like a bullet, belting a Mia Love song at the top of her lungs as she swung the back door of Mitch’s truck open and climbed up. She was big enough to know how to get herself into the booster seat and buckle up, but I watched her from the doorway just in case — and I knew Mitch would double check when he got out there, too.

“Hey, have you, uh… have you called your old man lately?”

I stiffened at the mention of Will’s father, but kept my eyes on Ava so as not to pry into a conversation not meant for me.

“Not lately,” Will admitted. “He okay?”

“Sure, yeah. Just misses you.”

“Phone works both ways.”

Mitch sighed. “I’m not arguing that, just… you know him. He does his best. Like the rest of us.”

There was a long, understanding silence between uncle and nephew, and I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see them embrace in a hug that spoke of years and years of history.

Interesting, how Will never really spoke about his dad, but I knew he watched Jeopardy every night he was home because it was something he and his father used to do together. There was clearly some fondness there — but, maybe some pain, too.

I longed to know more, but knew I couldn’t ask.

Mitch squeezed his shoulder. “Alright. I’ll drop her off at school in the morning.”

With a smile and nod of his head as he passed me, Mitch let himself out. Just as I expected, he double checked that Ava was safely buckled before climbing into the driver seat. Ava waved excitedly as they pulled out of the drive.

And then it was just the two of us.

It wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable quiet that fell over the house once that truck was gone, but it was… heavy. Charged. Like if I touched a blanket I’d get an electric shock.

Will shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers, but he didn’t move his large frame out of my way. I shut the front door behind me, my back against it, but still, he stayed put.

He was still the same man who dropped his daughter off on the first day of school, and yet, so much about him had changed. His hair was a little longer now, the stubble on his jaw a little more coarse. He didn’t look as tired as he had when I’d taken this job. His eyes were brighter now, his skin glowing a rich bronze, his cheeks full instead of hollow.

But his golden eyes were still as sad as ever.

I wondered if that would ever change.

“Tuesday night,” he said — as if I wasn’t aware.

I smiled. “Yep.”

“Plans?”

I snorted at that. “Oh, of course. A five-course meal with a guy I met on Tinder, and then hitting the club with my girls.”

Will frowned a bit, like he wasn’t sure if I was joking or not. I rolled my eyes.

“I have a half-finished puzzle and a true crime podcast cued up,” I said. “You?”

“Nothing.”

I nodded, heart spiking a bit at the implication behind that one word. Chef had already gone for the day.

We really would be alone — just the two of us.

The last time that was the case, I’d dry humped his thigh.

“Um… did you want to talk anymore about the plans for Disney?” I asked when he didn’t budge from where he stood. “Before I go over to the pool house?”

“I think the plans for Disney are pretty set.”

I nodded again.

He still didn’t move.

Scratch that — he did move, but not out of the way. He stepped toward me, his eyes flicking between mine as the space between us slowly evaporated.

“Think your puzzle can wait another night?”

“Uh…”

“Because I find myself in quite the teaching mood.”

He punctuated that last word with a final step in front of me, his body towering over mine, eyes alight with a tease and a dare and a promise.

The scent of him was intoxicating, the warm spice of his body wash mixed with faint hints of leather and rope. I wondered if that was from his hobbies in the home gym or if there were more exciting lessons than I anticipated waiting for me.

My heart had gone from a steady beat in my chest to an erratic, wild animal thrashing against the cage made by my ribs. I wondered if he could see my quickened pulse when his eyes dipped to my throat, if he could sense my excitement the way a lion might sense its prey.

It had been over a week since we’d had sex. Honestly, it had been over a week since we’d looked at each other for longer than two seconds without one of us breaking the gaze. I’d felt a bit like walking on eggshells, unsure of if I was welcome inside any more for fear of crossing one of his boundaries.

I’d agreed not to divulge our little secret to anyone, and so I’d made sure not to speak of it to the girls — even though I desperately wanted to. I debated using the whole “Noah from school” storyline to work around the rule, but I was a bit worried one of them would see right through me.

Maven was wicked smart. Livia was observant as hell. Grace, though she was on the go, seemed to be the kind of girl who could sniff out the truth without trying.

And I was pretty sure Arushi was already onto us, so I really needed to keep it together around her.

Fortunately, my Reddit fans were all too eager to share their advice. They were now immensely invested in my story, and while there was still a good portion of them rooting for us to fall in love — a laughable impossibility — the vast majority of them were rooting more for me to get my back blown out.

And they had fantastic advice for how not to catch feelings, starting with the number one rule Will had already put into place. No kissing.

Still, I’d had a hard time acting normal around him ever since I’d had his tongue between my legs. Any time we were in the same room without anyone else present, I’d find an excuse to leave. I didn’t want to impose on his boundaries, and I also didn’t know how to just go back to casual conversation. Besides, he’d made it clear he couldn’t be my friend… so what was there to even talk about?

But now, we were alone again — and every nerve-ending sparked at the thought of what that might mean.

“Is that so?” I asked, trying to tease him but failing when the words came out all breathy and desperate.

The corner of his lips tilted up just a fraction of an inch as he stepped even closer. My chest brushed the top of his abdomen, and when he removed his hands from his pockets, one reached for my hip and tugged me into him as the other confidently traced the slope of my neck.

God.

How did he do that? How did he turn it on so fast, so effortlessly?

One moment he’s Mr. Dad, all professional and hands to himself.

And then the second we’re alone, he’s touching me like I’m his, like I always have been, like those massive, calloused hands don’t belong anywhere else.

“What do you want to learn?” he mused, skating the back of his knuckles along my neck before tracing them across my collarbone.

Goosebumps raised in his wake, and the rest of my body reacted to that touch and his words like he was a music conductor, and I was the waiting orchestra. My eyelids fluttered, breath catching in my throat, nipples hardening to a point beneath my sweater.

“Everything,” I breathed.

His eyes lit up with humor and hunger in equal measure, and I didn’t know which sensation pulled more of my attention — the strong, warm hand covering my backside with a gentle squeeze, pulling me flush against him, or the thumb of the opposite hand running a slow, gentle line along my bottom lip.

“Starting where?”

My brain tried to fire, to send the signal for syllables, consonants, and verbs that would form words and allow me to speak. But when Will slid both hands up to frame my neck, his fingertips sliding back into my hair and curling there until he tilted my head up toward his, it was all I could do to remain standing.

It felt so fucking good to be touched by this man. To have him grip me and move me and look at me the way he was now.

“I… well, I guess…”

“Come on, Chloe,” he encouraged, thumbs gliding along my jaw. “Open those pretty eyes and tell me what you want.”

I felt drugged as I did what he said, my lids heavy, pulse beating against his palms.

“I want your mouth on me again,” I whispered, my eyes falling to that magical mouth as my neck burned with the admission. When I dragged my eyes back to his, I swallowed. “And I want you to teach me how to do the same to you.”

His nostrils flared, grip tightening where his hands curled in my hair.

“You said you liked it,” he commented. “Last time, when I told you what to do.” He kept one hand in my hair and slid the other to the front of my throat, forming a collar but resting it gently, without any pressure. “When I called you filthy and praised you for every dirty thing you did.”

I shuddered out my next breath, light-headed and leaning into his touch. “Yes.”

“You have to tell me if you change your mind,” he said. “If I go too far, if I do anything you don’t like. Understand?”

I nodded, anticipation buzzing through me like a live wire.

“Verbally, please.”

“Yes,” I said instantly, swallowing and feeling his hand tighten as I did.

“That’s a good girl.”

The words washed over me in an exotic, pleasure-soaked wave.

I pressed up onto my toes, mouth on track for his. I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking badly I couldn’t think straight.

I forgot about the no kissing rule until our lips were centimeters apart and he squeezed my throat hard, pushing me back until I was pinned against the door.

His breath was hot on my lips, his eyes flicking between mine beneath furrowed brows before that gaze dipped to my mouth. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was tempted to kiss me, too.

But he pushed himself away, putting distance between us, his hand still clamped around my neck.

“Sorry,” I murmured, skin heating with how horrified I was at my slip.

“You can show me just how sorry you are when I let you suck my cock.”

Fuck.

“Get undressed,” he demanded, stepping back and taking all his heat with him. “Then go to the kitchen. I’ll be there in five minutes, and I want you on your knees waiting for me. Tie your hair up and sit on your hands.”

He left with me gaping and blinking and trying to log everything he’d said.

I stood frozen for a breath before I launched into action, hastily shedding my sweater and slacks. I’d sewn those slacks, and right now I was cursing myself for the marks they left on my stomach and thighs when I took them off. No one ever had to see that but me, so I’d never thought anything of it. But now, I was all too aware of every inch of my body as I left my bra and panties behind, too, and tiptoed to the kitchen.

It was warm outside, but the air conditioner blew relentlessly, and a chill swept over me as I looked around the kitchen. I didn’t know where he wanted me, so I walked to the middle and carefully sank down onto the cold, hard floor.

My knees stung a bit as I tried to get comfortable. I nearly forgot about my hair, and I cursed before tying it up in the best ponytail I could manage for how short it was.

Sit on your hands.

I frowned, trying to figure out what that meant. I was on my knees. But when I heard footsteps coming from the hallway, I shoved my hands between my thighs and my calves, sandwiching them there and trying not to have a fucking heart attack at what was about to happen.

I looked up just in time to see Will prowl into the kitchen, slowly and confidently without any sort of rush. He paused at the island and let his eyes roam over me.

My mouth instantly watered.

I’d seen Will in many outfits that conjured a tingle in my belly. I’d watched him warm up in his full hockey gear, seen him freshly showered in a tailored suit after a game, ogled him while he jump-roped in nothing but basketball shorts, admired the muscles of his back as he swam laps in the pool.

But I’d never seen him look more delectable than he did right now.

He still had on the light wash jeans he’d been wearing all afternoon, but the Henley t-shirt he’d paired with it was gone now. It was just those damn jeans, not even the band of his briefs peeking out from beneath them.

Is he even wearing briefs?

It didn’t look like it — not with how a hard, long outline of a bulge was pushing against his zipper.

I took my time appreciating every valley and mountain of muscles that lined his abdomen, chest, and arms as my eyes drank him in. He was breathing just as heavy as I was, his eyes dark and focused on where I was knelt in the middle of the kitchen and waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

I realized he’d pulled his hair back, too.

It was in a low bun at the nape of his neck, a few strands loose and framing his jaw.

He looked like he meant business, like he was showing up for game five of a playoff series and his team was one win away from clutching the Cup.

There was a low, appreciative groan in his throat before he started walking toward me. He didn’t stop until his bare feet were at my knees, and my neck burned with the effort to arch and meet his gaze.

Why was seeing this man in nothing but jeans so fucking hot?

Since when did a man’s bare feet make me clench my thighs together?

I was convinced Will Perry could have made anything sexy. Playing chess, hopping on a pogo stick while naked, taking out the garbage. It didn’t matter.

He just oozed sex appeal. He didn’t even have to try.

“Now this is a pretty sight,” he mused, running his thumb along my jaw before tilting my head up even more. “This is how I want you when I teach you how to make me come.”

A shiver rocked through me, and Will smirked at the evidence when my nipples pebbled into hard peaks.

“But I want you dripping first.”

I would have grimaced at the foul word if it wasn’t so fucking hot coming off his lips, and he offered me a hand, helping me stand as the blood slowly rushed back to my legs.

Will held my arm above my head then, having me twirl slowly with his eyes raking over every inch of my naked body. He inhaled slow, exhaled even slower, and shook his head.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed.

And I felt it. I felt beautiful beneath his gaze.

“Put your hands on the island,” he said when he released me. “And bend over.”

Nerves sparked in my belly as I did what he said. My hands splayed the cool countertop, and I bent just an inch, looking over my shoulder to where Will was…

Reaching into the freezer?

I frowned, even more confused when he pulled a white-plastic wrapped Popsicle from a box. He shut the freezer door and turned toward me, taking in the view of me waiting for him.

“Slide those hands out,” he said, ripping the package open to reveal a bright orange Popsicle. “And bend so I can see more of that sweet ass of yours.”

I followed the command, and though I felt exposed and vulnerable, I also felt the distinct rush of power coursing through my veins.

Will Perry could have any woman he wanted, but he was weak for me.

He walked around to the opposite side of the island first, leaning on his elbows with a wicked gleam in his eye and a perfect view of my cleavage. He waved the Popsicle side to side before sucking it between his lips.

And I knew I was insane then, because my pussy fluttered at the sight of this man eating a fucking frozen treat.

“Mm,” he mused, and then he withdrew the Popsicle and offered it to my lips. “Taste.”

I opened my mouth, keeping my hands in place and letting Will control the depth. He let me taste just as much as he had, just the tip. The popsicle was sweet and citrusy, and when he pulled it away, I licked my lips to taste the remnants of it.

Will smirked, circling the island until he was standing behind me. He pressed the top of his foot against the inside of my right ankle until I opened my stance, and then he did the same with the left. I had no choice but to spread, and when his erection pressed through his denim against the swells of my ass, my eyes fluttered shut on a moan.

And then, shot wide open — because an icy burning sensation ran along the back of my neck.

I gasped, pulling away, but Will pinned me against the counter with his hips until the Popsicle was pressed against my skin once more. It was wet and sticky and cold, and violent chills raced from where he touched me all the way down to my toes.

I bit my lip and squirmed, both hating the way it felt and yet curious about what it was doing to my body, too. I was ready to cry out and beg for relief when suddenly the cold was gone.

And was replaced by a hot, wet mouth.

Will licked and sucked along the same trail he’d made with the Popsicle, moaning as he lapped up the sticky sweetness and sent yet another wave of chills washing over me. The sensation of his warmth covering the bite of the cold was too much. I arched into him, moaning when he tongued his way up to my earlobe and sucked it between his teeth.

“More?” he mused.

“More.”

My answer was a breathy plea, and Will removed all his warmth before I felt that Popsicle along the back of my neck again. This time, he dragged it up to the top of my jaw and brought it all the way down to my chin.

Which meant when he chased that line with his mouth, he was kissing all along my neck and jaw until his lips hovered just below mine.

I whimpered at the tease, at how close and yet how far he was from taking my mouth for his own. But the noise died in my throat and was replaced by a yelp when suddenly, a shock of cold circled my nipple.

I yanked away from the touch, but again, Will chased me, pressing that wet, icy Popsicle against my pebbled flesh. He’d wet it with his mouth again, which made it glide like butter as he circled my nipple and smiled against my neck as my peak grew harder beneath his torturous touch.

“Will, please,” I whined, the pleasure bordering a little too close to pain.

Instantly, the Popsicle was gone, and he lifted one hand up and out of the way so he could turn me just enough to suck my breast into his mouth.

I gasped and groaned and let my knees go weak, let him hold the weight of me as I surrendered to how it felt to have him massaging my breast with his tongue and that lingering coldness still present.

Just as soon as relief came, it was gone again.

He repeated the sensuous torture on the other breast, like he was afraid one might be jealous of the other. I was ready to scream and kick and thrash when he finally relented and rewarded me with the warmth of his mouth, and then my legs were trembling, and I was melting into him.

Over and over, again and again, he dragged that melting Popsicle across my skin and brought me the most curious mix of pain and pleasure. Only when it was a mess did he haphazardly toss the Popsicle into the sink, and then he whipped me around to face him and held out his sticky fingers.

“Suck me clean.”

A hot shot of electricity zipped down between my legs, and I squeezed my thighs together as I opened my mouth and let him stick his fingers in one by one. I sucked the orange sweetness from each one while his eyes flared and drank in the sight.

“Let’s see if I’ve got you where I want you,” he mused, and he ran his clean hand down the front of my body roughly until he could slip it between my thighs.

I had no choice but to open for him again, and we both moaned in unison when his fingers skated easily through where I was wet and turned on.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praised.

He held my eyes and lifted those fingers to his lips, licking each one while I watched.

Fuck.

“And I thought the Popsicle was sweet,” he said. “Are you ready to ride my tongue, Chloe?”

“God, yes.”

The closest thing I’d ever seen to a smile washed across that man’s face, and he carefully sank down onto the kitchen floor before pulling me with him.

I waited for my cheeks to burn, for embarrassment to make me murmur and hesitate and ask him if he was sure. But after that whole scene with the Popsicle, after the way he looked at me and licked me and tasted me on his fingers — I couldn’t find anything but pure fucking want inside me.

Will helped me straddle his face, his hands on my ass and adjusting me until he had me right where he wanted me. He kissed the inside of each of my thighs, moaning when I stretched my hands out to brace myself on the drawers above his head.

“You just keep giving me the best views,” he groaned, biting the tender flesh of my inner thigh with his eyes cast up at my breasts hanging above him. “You ready to talk me through what you like?”

“No,” I answered honestly, because talking at this point seemed like the most difficult thing in the world.

He smirked and ran his tongue along the crease of my thigh, just inches from where I really wanted him.

“You’ve got to tell me what you like, what you need,” he said. “Part of having great sex is being confident. It’s knowing what works and asking for it. It’s knowing what doesn’t work and steering me away. Everyone is different. Help me discover you.”

I nodded, panting, unsure if I could do what he was asking but absolutely sure I wanted to try.

Will nosed my clit, his scruff rubbing against my vagina as he settled in. He started with slow, lingering strokes of his tongue from my opening up to my clit. There was little pressure there, but fuck was it hot to feel his wetness covering me, to feel him breathing against my skin. My legs shook as I dropped down, spreading my legs wider and silently asking for more.

Will arched one brow, continuing the same slow assault.

He wanted me to say it.

“That feels good,” I admitted, biting my lip when he squeezed my ass and rocked me against his flat tongue. “But I want more.”

“More,” he breathed, the vibration teasing my core. “Where?”

“My clit.”

Will answered with a satisfied grin against my pussy before he was sucking my clit between his teeth. I gasped, gripping onto the drawers harder and trying not to give in to my urge to rock against his face.

But he pulled me down onto him, eagerly devouring me, his hands kneading my ass as he began sucking my clit in tiny little pulses.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathed, and I couldn’t help it now. I met his tongue with a thrust of my hips. “Yes. Fuck, yes, like that.”

Will moaned, and again the vibration of it made me see stars. My climax was already tickling the edges of my vision after the teasing, the cold and the hot, the words, and this fucking man beneath me.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he said, breaking his touch to a sad whimper from me. He kissed my clit and smiled at how I shivered when he did. “Fuck my face, Chloe. Because I promise — I plan to thoroughly fuck yours.”

“Oh, God.”

He sucked my clit into his mouth again, and I let go. My hands flew into my hair as I sat upright and gave into my need to rock against his touch. I bucked like a wild bull, savoring the little groans Will rewarded me with.

But I needed more.

I played with my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers and thumbs and moaning when I remembered Will’s mouth there.

More.

I still needed more.

“Finger me,” I breathed, and this time, embarrassment did shade my cheeks. I couldn’t even open my eyes to look down at Will when I said the words. I just kept writhing against him, seeking the last little bit of whatever it was I needed for the flame to catch.

Will maneuvered me until he could snake one hand between us, and without a tease, he plunged one thick finger deep inside me and curled it against that magical spot.

“Fuck!”

I was unhinged now, rolling against him and savoring every sensation. He sucked my clit in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, his finger pumping in and out of me once, twice, before he’d leave it submerged and wiggle it in just the right way to coax my orgasm to the surface.

I sat down more, wanting him deeper, needing more, more, more. And Will answered in every way. He filled me with another finger. He sucked my clit and held it there, rewarding me with pulse after pulse of pleasure. And when I creaked one eye open and then the next, my gaze traveling down, that was all I needed.

He was ravenous.

I watched his fingers working, his mouth latched onto me, his golden eyes dark and searing and fixed on me.

And I combusted.

“God, Will, yes!”

I cried out those words over and over, in various order and at every decibel that existed. When I could no longer rock myself against him, Will took over, working me with his tongue and his fingers as I shook and screamed and moaned out every last second of my release.

Panting filled the air as the last of the climax left me, my chest heaving, hair wild where I’d run my hands through it and destroyed the ponytail I’d fixed it into. I trembled violently when Will withdrew his fingers, and then I was laughing, rolling off him until the cold tile was against my hot, slick back.

“Wow,” I breathed, body tingling, mind numb and lagging. “Wow.”

Will rolled over, wiping his mouth before the edges of it curled up just a bit. His eyes roamed over me, and then that same dangerous heat slid into his gaze.

“Fix your hair,” he said, standing. “And get back into position.”

I swallowed, both exhausted from coming and enlivened by the thought of bringing him the same pleasure.

I scrambled up as quickly as I could, ignoring my body’s protest. I pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail again, sat on my knees, and wedged my hands between my thighs.

Will was at the freezer again, and he plucked another Popsicle from its wrapping.

This one was red.

The outline of his erection was even thicker against his jeans now, and I felt the nerves slide into my stomach when I remembered just how big he was.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

But I wanted it. I wanted to unravel him. I wanted to watch him come, to know I was the one who made him feel good.

I felt like I was back in college as I straightened my back, angled my chin up at him, and let determination slide into any cracks fear had produced.

Will bent into a deep squat right in front of me, his eyes on mine as he held the Popsicle with one hand and slid the other between my legs. He had to dig between my thighs to find what he wanted, and when he felt how slick I was, he bit his lip on a groan.

“Dripping,” he confirmed. “Just what I wanted.”

He stood, his denim-restrained cock right in my face as he stared down at me over the ridges of muscles lining his abdomen.

“Open your mouth. Wide. Tongue out.”

And the real lesson began.