nine

Hope everyone stayed safe in the storm!
____

In the quiet darkness of Erin’s bedroom, Jordan forgot to be nervous.  He forgot hockey and the lockout and his birth date and anything beyond the feel of her body.  They rolled across the mattress until he was on top, and Jordan forgot to hesitate.

“Mmmmm,” he whispered against the delicate skin of her neck, where he’d bitten down as he ground his lap into hers.  Soft skin was everywhere.  He pushed again and Erin wrapped her legs around his waist.  His stick shift slipped right into gear and nearly destroyed the two pieces of underwear between them.  They both reached down simultaneously, tugging and pushing.

Focus, Jordan told himself as he won the race, slipping her panties underneath her ass and peeling them down first.  He got an inch between them and watched as he stripped off her last scrap of clothing.  She was perfect, of course, and the site of her bared completely doubled his desire.

Erin knew Jordan wasn’t a virgin.  But he looked at her like she was made of goals and assists; like she was a trophy.  It wasn’t fair when he was the one they should be admiring.  His eyelashes fluttered as she pressed her hand to the obvious shape straining his boxer briefs.  She stroked his length, feeling him stiffen in her hand as he took deep, even breaths.  With a flick of her wrist, she was under his shorts.

“God,” he said so quietly she almost missed it.  Smooth and hard and hot against her palm, Erin thought the same thing herself.  She worked his waistband down, sliding one hand needlessly over his bare ass to make sure she got every last inch.  When his shorts were stretched between his thighs, she used her feet to push them away.

“Good thing I didn’t plan on waiting,” she said with a smirk.  “Never would have made it this far.”

Jordan let her guide his cock to the spot and gritted his teeth against the first brush of his raging skin against hers.  Completely lost in her touch, his inner monologue spoke right out loud.

“Fuck the lockout.”

Everything happened at once.  Jordan pushed, Erin gasped; he moaned, she twisted handfuls of bed sheet as he slowly drove between her legs.  She said something colorful, his laugh turned into a groan.  When he was in all the way, Jordan wasted no time hitching Erin’s legs around his waist again and going for another inch.  He got it, with a sexy little cry from her lips.  She hooked her ankles together and Jordan stroked.  It was like going over Niagra Falls in a barrel – lots of slow lead up and suddenly they were plummeting and spinning at terminal velocity.

“Jordan,” she said so breathily he almost came.

He’d forgotten how good it felt – that first time, that loss of control.  It had to be with someone special.  Random girls weren’t his style; they didn’t provide the same rush of having won something coveted.  Any idiot could take a penalty, not everyone could score goals.  He worked another slow pull and push, locking his mouth to hers to keep from saying crazy things.

Erin kissed him back fiercely.  His fingers dented her flesh, tilting her hips.  Her head fell back, breaking from his lips, but she couldn’t make a sound.  Jordan pressed down, curling his back and pushing harder through his thick legs.  Erin thought she might snap in half, her back arched and Jordan ramping up the pace.  He wouldn’t make it long – he was too sweet to go for hours.  He wanted her as badly as she wanted to be had.  Making a figure eight with her hips, Erin twisted his shaft as it plunged in and out of her core.

“Ohfuck,” he gasped.  Erin kept moving.  The pull was almost as good as the push, catching all the nerve endings on their flip sides and making them sing.  There was no time for any racy tricks or changing positions.  It would be all they could do to hold on for another moment of their first time.

Jordan was dizzy.  Blood and testosterone and brain power had rushed south, leaving him blinking away stars as Erin’s face swam before his eyes.  Feeling had taken over everything in his body.  Her strong thighs squeezed at his waist, her tight ass was in his hands.  She kept doing that swiveling thing.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he panted.

Erin was right at the cusp.  For lack of coherent thought, her brain just read raw data.  “God you feel so fucking good.”

“Erin,” he whispered, his own body still trying to cram itself inside her on every thrust.

Her body was humming so loud she couldn’t hear herself speak.  “Kiss me.”

Jordan did as he was told and crushed his mouth to hers.  At the force and insistence, the pleasure and the pain of it, Erin slipped right off the edge.  Her body clenched, then just as quickly it fell apart.  Waves of sensation shuddered through, her back arched so hard it lifted their hips clear off the bed.

It was like being wrung out to dry.  Grab, twist, release.  Jordan’s body snapped with tension then broke all over.  He cried out in near-pain as he came; hot, hard bursts, holding her up into his lap like he was afraid of putting her through the mattress.

His own voice sounded miles away, the cry unintelligible anyway.  Drained like a bank account, his body still tried to pay.  The last two pulses were dry heaves – Jordan had nothing left to give.
_____

When Jordan came to, he was still slumped over Erin’s prone body.  Her fingers twisted lazily in the hair at the back of his neck.  Judging by the rise and fall of their breathing, he’d only been out a minute.  “You made me faint,” he said.  Lifting his head, he saw that dazzling, dimpled smile.

“I hoped you weren’t the kind of guy to fall asleep right after.”

“That wasn’t sleep.  I think I died.”

“How’s the afterlife?”

He planted a kiss on her collarbone.  “Southern.”

Jordan rolled off and pulled Erin close to face him.  A few brown strands were stuck to her forehead and it was twenty degrees warmer in the room.  All he could do was kiss her and close his eyes.

This is different, he knew.  She was just a girl.  He was just a guy.  They were together and no one could find them or need them until they said so.  It was how normal people lived, he was sure of it.  Everywhere he put his hands was a new treasure.

They fell silent for a while, knowing the other wasn’t sleeping but each lost in separate thought.  Erin wondered if she’d changed things, though she had chosen wisely.  Sex with Jordan had been more than just physically satisfying.  It had been a tiny little storm, a force of nature.  And fun.  Erin felt like she’d gone running into a downpour for the wild energy as much as the water.

Jordan thought about nothing.  In truth, he’d forgotten about the game he’d just played.  That never happened at home.  Plus, he had broken if not a rule, then at least a guideline.  For what it was worth, Jordan hoped he’d get to do it again.

“You lied to me last night,” Erin finally said.

“I didn’t.”

“You said no sex on game nights.”

The laughter was weak, but it was the best they could do.  “If I suck tomorrow, everyone will know to blame you,” he pointed out.

“I’ll just tell them you already scored.”
____

Jordan half-woke to a face full of soft brown hair and his hand resting flat across a bare stomach.  He immediately tried to slip back into whatever dream seemed so real.   Only the scent of shampoo and the heat of soft skin brought him around - unless he was dreaming in 4D, there was more to be awake for today.

Erin lay on her side, Jordan cuddled against her back.  He’d tilted his face down into her hair to shy away from the weak light filling the room.  Staying close, he turned just his neck to have a look around.  It had been dark the night before, and he’d been less interested in what was on her walls than what was under her pants.

Her room was painted light blue.  Over his head was an old-fashioned iron rail headboard painted yellow, with two framed black and white photos framed hanging above.  She had a white desk pushed against one wall, topped by a hutch-style bookshelf that took up another four feet.  The shelves were filled with paperbacks and trinkets, the kind of stuff girls always collected.  On top of her dresser, a jewelry box spilled over into a low tray filled with bottles of lotion and perfume.  Next to the bed, a nightstand held a lamp with a yellow shade, a phone charger, iPod dock and and old fashioned silver alarm clock.  They were snuggled together underneath a dark blue duvet cover.  He couldn’t make out the photos on her shelves, but wondered if any of them were old boyfriends.  Maybe those could be replaced.

The clock said it was almost ten in the morning.  Jordan didn’t have a morning skate because the game was at five.  He could conceivably lay in bed with Erin for another few hours and just consider his pre-game nap accomplished.  Or just lay there and marvel.

He didn’t have anywhere to be, anything to do.  No one cared where he was - except hopefully Erin when she woke up.  Jordan got to sleep in some days but there was always life going on - a charity event, a photo shoot, travel.  Some days he would just see a movie or wash his car or grocery shop.  Even then, someone always recognized him.  Jordan was happy to meet any hockey fan but sometimes he just wanted a break.

Smiling to himself, Jordan wrapped tighter around Erin and went back to sleep.
____

"You’re still here.”

Erin’s voice was the kind of sleepy and quiet that made Jordan’s heart race.  He rarely got to experience something so intimate.  It used to be his favorite thing, laying in bed and talking to Julia.  He pushed the thought away - it was not fair to let her in here.

“I told you I would be,” he said as she rolled to face him.  Her hair was mussed and just a hint of leftover makeup was smeared at the corners of her eyes.  Jordan traced the spot lightly with his thumb.   “I’d much rather wake up to you than Ryan.”

“Aw,” she made a face.  “He’s so cute though!  Like a little fox face.”

“Oh don’t start, he’s already getting cocky ‘cause Darcy flirts with him!  He’ll turn into Taylor in a minute.”

Laughing and chatting in low voices, laying tangled together in a little cocoon of warmth, Jordan knew he’d made the right choice in spending the night with Erin.  He really wanted to make the right choice again immediately.  Erin saw the gleam in his eye and shook her head.

“I need my energy to cheer you on,” she said.  “And after, I might invite you over again.”

There it was - she was happy too.  No second guesses.  If Jordan could do anything about it, Erin would never regret being with him.  “Come with me, before the game.  Come see the locker room and stuff.  I can get you a jersey, if you want.”

Erin let her lips fall softly against his.  “Oh, I want it.”
____

Jordan sat on the counter, peeling an orange while Erin made omelets for breakfast.  In his expensive dress shirt and suit pants from the night before, he looked like a businessman ready to make a slightly-rumpled deal.  The momentary awkwardness they’d experienced after coming in last night was gone for good - he was telling a funny story about Taylor and carefully piling chunks of orange peel on a paper towel.  Erin slid the food onto two plates and added toast.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the plate without getting down.  “Come here.”  Erin stepped between his knees and Jordan gave her a long, lingering kiss.  

“On second thought, I have plenty of energy,” she reversed her decision from earlier.  “Stay right there.”  She made as if the climb up beside him on the counter, and Jordan gulped.  No way he’d turn that down.  The surprise on his face and the awe-filled look that she might actually do it made her giggle.  Instead she grabbed the plates and turned toward the table.

Jordan growled.  “Tease!”
____

He hadn’t brought a girl with him to the rink since Julia.  Jordan hated how she kept creeping in around the edges of his thoughts.  Of course, it had been a really big deal when she came to her first game as a kind of date, then when he made it official by introducing her to his teammates and coaches.  At the time, Jordan had felt like a grown man.  Now, pulling into the sectioned-off player parking at Cox Convention Center, he wasn’t sure how to feel.  It was still hockey, he was still a professional athlete.  It was just a smaller scale.  Erin had probably been in this building more times that he had.  She gave him a smile and swung out of the car like it was something she did every day.

But when she waited for him at the door and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, Erin said, “This is exciting!”

Jordan blushed, and not because he was wearing last night’s clothes.
____

Erin turned her face away so Jordan wouldn’t see her smile.  It wasn’t the ‘thanks for last night’ smile she’d worn all morning, though that one was still around.  It was a proud smile that said they were on the same page, and moving forward, and now they were walking the back hallways of the arena.  As much as Erin had come to know Jordan, she had no illusions that in a faraway city, a place like this was his life.  She would never make it to there, but it hadn’t stopped either of them from getting her here.

Inside the workings of the convention center looked as Erin would have guessed - institutional, functional, cluttered.  A Barons logo was painted on the dented locker room door.  Jordan motioned for her to stay outside and a minute later he was back.

“They’re all dressed,” he said, holding the door open.

“And none of us in yesterday’s suit,” said Justin Schultz with a big grin.  Erin had met him in the lounge the night before, and there was no question Jordan hadn’t been home since then.  Everyone in the room had some kind of smirk on his face - Jordan Eberle getting some from the local talent.  She rolled her eyes.

“Too bad you don’t have a game tomorrow,” Erin said cheerfully.  “You might have seen it again.”

Jordan introduced anyone she had missed after the first game and gave her a quick tour of the facility.  As they came back from the equipment room, Ryan was walking in.

“He... hey.  Hey guys,” he stuttered, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Those perfect, pointed eyebrows were halfway up his forehead like he’d been caught doing something wrong.  Jordan and Erin looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Oh God,” Erin wheezed, collapsing against Jordan.  “You’re... stop.  Oh my God.”

Jordan could not get a word out.  Ryan fidgeted, tugging at his tie as everyone stared at the three of them making a scene.  Finally Ryan cracked a smile, ducked his head to hide it and fled.  Jordan tugged Erin’s arm and they flew after him.  The lounge door down the hall was just slamming.

“What happened?” Jordan demanded, throwing it open.  Erin bounced off the wall, then him, turning wide eyes on Ryan.

“Nothing!” he cried, looking even younger than his nineteen years.  “Nothing happened.”

Jordan scratched at a spot on his neck, then glanced at Erin.  “You tell him.”

“No,” she said, “you tell him.”

“Did you do that to me?” Jordan asked.

“No!  Didn’t you even look in the....,” she protested as they momentarily forgot Ryan was standing there, shifting his weight nervously.

“WHAT?!” Ryan finally shouted.

Erin walked right up to him.  Ryan held perfectly, suspiciously still.  When she was almost pressed to his chest, way too close for anything but kissing, she looked up into his narrowed eyes.  Her chin was even with his shoulder.  The same height, in fact, as Darcy.  Erin lifted one arm like she was going to hug him; Ryan flinched.  Instead her thumb touched lightly to a spot at the side of his neck, perfectly even with her lips.

“You have a hickey,” she said.

Ryan yelped, clapped a hand to his neck, and nearly knocked Erin over as he ran from the room.
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