The Fake Hockey Deal With My Ice Captain

Aurelia's pov I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling of my tiny off-campus apartment while he finished. I felt absolutely nothing. Two minutes and forty seconds. “f**k,” he groaned, pulling out and tapping the last of his c*m against my stomach like he’d just scored a game-winning goal. “I can’t ever get enough of this pussy.” I forced a soft laugh, the kind that sounded almost real if you weren't an overthinker and probably didn’t listen too hard. My body was still sensitive and unsatisfied, the way it always was whenever we f****d. Mason had never lasted longer than three minutes. Not once in the year and a half we’d been together. For a hockey player who spent hours training his endurance, it was almost impressive how quickly he burned out in bed. He sat up, already reaching for his pants. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, his eyebrows raising softly. “Yes,” I said automatically, the lie sliding out easier than breathing was. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, the same affectionate little stamp he always gave me after. Then he was up, tugging his shirt over his head, hunting for his keys. “I’ve got to go to training now.” He said softly. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost ten. “Isn’t it too late for that?” I asked. He shrugged, already halfway to the door. “Tell that to Zayden. He wants us in top shape for the final. You know how he is.” Zayden Fisher. Captain of the hockey team and NHL’s Golden boy. The one Mason both admired and quietly resented. I nodded, pulling the sheet up over myself. “Okay, baby.” He came back for one more forehead kiss, car keys jingling in his hand. The keys to the black Mercedes I’d given him last week on his birthday and our anniversary, rolled into one. A full year of skipping meals, taking every extra shift at the campus coffee shop, selling textbooks I still needed, and borrowing money I had no business borrowing from dangerous people just so I could get that car for my sweet boy. He had always wanted one and I had wanted him to have it. “I’ll wait up for you,” I offered. “No, just go to sleep.” He said, already turning towards the door. “I love you.” The door shut. I listened to the engine start, the soft purr of the car I’d bled for, and then the silence that followed after he pulled out. I rolled onto my side and reached under the bed for the small box I kept hidden there. I picked up my vibrator, admiring it far more than I admired Mason’s d**k. I unlocked my phone, opened a porn site, and found something loud and filthy. Something that lasted longer than three minutes…longer than my boyfriend actually. I pressed the toy against my p***y and closed my eyes, chasing the release Mason never gave me. My breathing turned ragged but I didn’t hold back the sounds since there was no to hear them. A notification slid across the top of the screen, muting the audio for a second. Zayden Fisher uploaded a new post. I swiped it away with a muttered, “Cheeky ass dude,” and kept going, hips moving, chasing the pleasure. I was so close— The door swung open without warning and Lucy stood there, eyes wide, mouth already open. “The f**k, girl?” I yanked the covers up and scrambled to shut everything down, cheeks burning. “Don’t you know how to knock?” I screamed, eyes wide open. “b***h, we don’t do that and you know it.” She kicked the door shut behind her and dropped onto the edge of the bed like she owned the place. Her curly hair was half-up, makeup already done, crop top and jeans that said she was going out whether I liked it or not. “There’s a huge-ass party downtown. Half the campus is already there. They've got hot guys and free drinks and you’re definitely coming.” “You do know that I’m in a relationship, right?” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. “Yeah. With a guy who doesn’t f**k you good.” “Shut the f**k up. I love him.” Lucy raised both hands in surrender, but the smirk didn’t leave her face. “Fine, love him all you want but just come to the party.” I rolled my eyes and a small mischievous smirk tugged at her lips. “Guess who’s there?” She asked. I didn’t answer. “Zayden. Zayden Fisher.” She dragged the name out like i was supposed to give a f**k. “Looking fine as hell, according to his i********: stories already circulating.” I sat up straighter, my eyes widening. “Mason said they had practice.” Lucy snorted. “Half the hockey team is already at that party. What practice?” A cold..hell freezing chill settled in my stomach. I grabbed my phone, opened i********:, and went straight to Zayden’s profile. Two minutes ago. I clicked on his story and it showed videos of packed rooms, red cups, loud music and people grinding on each other. Zayden was laughing out loud, arm around some guy from the team. My thumb moved on its own, going almost immediately to Snapchat to check Mason’s actual location. Not like I had trust issues or anything but— The blue dot wasn’t anywhere near the hockey facility. It was pinned to a cheap motel three blocks from campus. I stood up so fast the sheet fell. I grabbed a jean, a hoodie and my sneakers. My hands were shaking as I dressed. Lucy watched me, the sass finally gone from her voice. “Where are you going?” she asked, eyebrows raising. “I’ll be back.” I answered hurriedly. I didn’t wait for her answer. Outside, the night air hit my face like a slap. I hailed the first cab I saw and gave the driver the address, voice steadier than I felt. The ride took just four minutes, four minutes of my heart slamming against my ribs hard enough to bruise. The motel looked exactly like I expected with its faded paint, flickering neon sign, a parking lot that smelled like cigarettes and used condoms. Mason’s Mercedes sat under a streetlight, looking too expensive for the place. I climbed the metal stairs to the second floor, tracing his exact location with the snap map. I stopped in front of one of the doors and swallowed. My heart slammed heavily against my ribs as I heard the sounds. “Oh daddy..just like that.” The voice trailed out, skin slapping skin and a moan sound that made my stomach twist. The way she moaned, it was the kind of sound females make only make when they’re being f****d properly. I pushed the door open, tears already blurring my vision. Mason had her bent over the edge of the bed, one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. He was driving into her like he had something to prove, deep and relentless, the way he never did with me. “I'm about to cum.” She shouted, squirting across the sheets in a way that left no room for doubt. The sound was so loud it filled the entire room. The girl turned her head, dark hair stuck to her face, mouth open on a moan that died the second her eyes locked on mine. My eyes widened. It was the hottest girl on campus. The one everyone swore was into girls. The one who had never once looked in my direction until this exact second. Mason finally registered the cold air from the open door. He looked over his shoulder, still buried inside her, and for one frozen heartbeat we just stared at each other. I had given him a car. I had gone hungry for months. I had told myself every short, unsatisfying night was okay because he loved me. And he was f*****g Iris so well she couldn’t even keep the sounds inside her body. I stood there in the doorway of a cheap motel room, staring at the boy I had built my entire world around, and felt the last piece of that world slip through my fingers.