Episode 2
1649 Words
Alex
The view from where I am laying in my penthouse is pretty amazing as I watch the redhead riding my d**k throw her head back and call out my name. Her perfect breasts bob up and down and I think I am in some kind of heaven. Girls, I love them. Blonde, brunette, redheads, I am not a picky man and don’t have a type. She calls my name out again and then collapses on me as I finish off.
So why then am I imagining Madison Lane with her long hair straddling me instead? I try to focus on Red but dammit, Madison is all over my mind.
“That was so good, Alex,” I help roll her off me. Now it’s time to get her the hell out of here. I have rules. Number one is to never let them stay.
“Shall we swap numbers?” she asks. And in force comes rule number two.
“You know the score, Red. No numbers and no staying the night. Come on now, get your fine ass out of here.”
She obliges thankfully. Trust me I have had some women throwing hissy fits when it’s time to leave.
My phone rings as she is getting dressed. It’s my coach, I furrow my brow. It’s getting late. What is he calling for?
“Coach,” I say.
“Stone, you need to come to the office at the rink. Don’t dilly dally get your ass down here.”
Fuck sounds serious. “Red hurry it up, I gotta get out of here.” She slips on her shoes and blows me a kiss goodbye.
“See you next time you’re in town, Alex.” I smile politely and exhale when she finally exits the door as I get up and slip on my boxers, joggers and a T-shirt. I grab my keys and haul ass in the elevator down to the private parking lot.
I park up in front of the rink. The New York Islanders sure do have an impressive outfit. The large domed building is all glass frontage and it’s had a rehaul recently thanks to some new sponsors. Speaking of which, I have a shoot in a few days with CCM who were rebranded from Reebok. I don’t particularly like photoshoot days because they end up being long and arduous, still they pay me a fortune to be their brand ambassador for their hockey apparel and my manager forced me to take it.
It's dark but the lights are all on inside, there will be some of the guys still doing practice or at the bar. I make my way through the large sliding entrance doors and through the foyer with its high gloss floor tiles. I head straight to the door on the left which takes me through to the locker rooms and coach’s temporary on-site office.
Coach Burns is a man in his forties, he used to play for our team and also for Vegas and for Vancouver in his lifetime. He’s got so many cups and wins under his belt but not the Stanley Cup. That is one I definitely want to bring home for our team.
I find him sitting at his desk peering at something on his laptop. “Good you could make it.” He says with his no-nonsense tone of voice. Now I’m wondering wtf I could possibly have done for this attitude.
“No problem,” I say. He nods to indicate I should take a seat then looks up from whatever he is doing on the laptop.
“Good night?” he asks.
“Nothing special,” I say, wanting him to just spit out whatever it is I’m doing here at half nine at night. I’ve got a club to go to with some of the guys although now I’m thinking I could just go back and crawl into bed. I’m knackered, he’s been drilling us so hard the last couple of practices to prep for the Stanley Cup playoffs coming up in a week’s time.
Are we ready for it? You bet we are. Our team has got winning odds and I sure as hell hope I’m able to deliver. Being the captain and the center player is no walk in the park.
I glance up as I see the door to the office open and my manager Levi comes walking in. What is he doing here? Seriously, I hope they’re not about to draft me or let me go. I run through my latest outbursts on the ice. Yes there have been a few and then some. What can I say? I’m a bit happy-go-lucky with my fists when I get going. I’ve been in the sin-bin more times than I can count. And yeah, I do know I need to get a grip on that. It’s not the best when you’re the captain.
“Evening, Stone,” Levi says and pulls out a seat next to the coach.
“Evening, Levi.” I lean back in my chair and stretch my long legs out in front of me and fold my arms in front of my chest.
“We need to have a word with you about your image,” Levi says, opening the conversation. My f*****g what?
“What’s up with my image?” As far as I’m concerned, it’s not worse or better than anyone else’s on the ice.
“Let’s start with the other night.” Levi holds up his phone screen facing me. Mm, he may have a point on that one. I’m coming out of a club with my shirt hanging open, a girl on my right with her hands down my pants and another girl on my back. It was a good night, what can I say? It got even better when I took the twins home, and we had a fantastic, hot and dirty threesome.
“Then there’s this.” He flicks through some images and stops. Ah, yes that night. Okay, so some dude was picking on one of the girls in a bar, the waitress who was only doing her job and I confronted the asshole in question. Needless to say, we got into a brawl, and I kicked his ass. The guy in the picture is nursing a bloody nose and I’m standing there with my hair all ruffled up, no shirt on and giving him the finger. Levi scrolls to another picture and it shows my fist in contact with the asshole’s face.
“I could go on and on. I’ve got a whole stock of photos here, Stone with you disgracing yourself.” I clench my jaw and feel my teeth grinding at the back.
“We have a sports journalist coming in the day after tomorrow. Madison Lane. You may have heard of her.” Hell, who did he just say? Madison Lane, the girl who I can’t stop thinking about? She’s been making a name for herself with her sports coverage and she’s f*****g hot. H.O.T. Now I’ve seen her up close and personal, she is definitely a 10 only she’s a journalist.
I nod, he carries on. “Not only is she coming in to cover our games, but she is going to be covering your ass 24/7.” My jaw opens and I feel like my chin has decked out on the ground.
“What?” Am I squeaking?
“You heard me. 24/7 coverage. She’ll be staying at your house and covering basically everything you do.”
“No way, I don’t need some jumped up journalist on my ass. What about my privacy rights?” f**k me, no way. I’m not having this.
“There’s more,” coach pipes up. More? What more could there possibly be? This is already bad enough.
“You and Madison are going to clean up your image and present a front for the world to see.” Levi places his phone on the grey table we’re all seated at.
“What exactly are you saying, Levi? You want me to stop going out and having a life? Sure, smacking some guy in the face wasn’t called for but the rest of that s**t, is me having a good time, letting off steam. You know - living. I’m only twenty-four, what do you expect?”
“The point is, Stone, you are letting the team down. Our image is at risk and we can’t afford to lose sponsors because of your behaviour. You may be a God on the ice, you may be the best that NHL has seen for a long time, but that doesn’t mean you can abuse it when you’re off the rink. Stop being this man w***e, fighting d**k that you’re portraying.” Wow, that stings.
“Here’s the thing, Stone. You and Madison are going to pretend for the world that you’re a couple.” s**t. I almost choke and start coughing. I swear my eyes are bugging right out of my head.
“Are you serious? You expect me to fake date some girl that I can’t even stand? She’s a journalist.” Naturally, I try to forget exactly how stunning and gorgeous she is. I don’t need a mental distraction right now.
“We don’t really care; this is the deal. If you do not clean up your image, we are going to have to think very seriously about whether you are on the team after the season and the Cup.”
“And if I don’t agree to it?”
“We’ll kick you off the team. Trust me, Stone, there are other players out there,” Levi says, his grey eyes glaring into mine.
“Are you being f*****g serious?” I bite my bottom lip.
“Like a f*****g heart attack.”
I’m a dead man.
- Writer
