Page 130 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
“Hmm.”
He does keep going. Thankfully. He fucks me and rubs my clit until my body is tense enough to shatter, and only once I’m riding my orgasm does he chase his own. Faster and harder. My headboard bangs against the wall, and my cheeks heat.
Until he jerks to a stop and comes.
He kisses my shoulder. “Perfect way to start the day.”
Bloody… and perfect.
FSU DAILY NEWS
FROM SNITCH TO SLUT
Big news today, Vipers! Our very own Hester Prynne (if you don’t understand that reference, ask the nearest English major), Sydney Windsor, was spotted yesterday looking cozy with hockey god and captain, Oliver Ruiz.
Some say the two kissed in the parking lot.
But isn’t Sydney dating Penn Walker? After all, she wears his sweatshirt and necklace. The two are frequently seen on campus together.
Sydney’s infamy, for those who are unaware, stems from her past as a snitch. She sold out FSU to St. James, costing our hockey team the glory and honor of competing in the playoffs.
Her unfortunate timing transferring to FSU notwithstanding, one must ask: is she opening her legs to stave off the indomitable loathing and vitriol of the Vipers?
After all, our bite is mighty, but our venom will kill.
And now it appears she’s transitioning from snitch to slut, moving up the ranks. From goalie to captain. Who’s next, the coach?
Oh, wait. That’s her father.
Talk about daddy issues!
Chime in with your thoughts, Vipers. How far will this girl go?
I. Am. Mortified.
There are pictures. Photos of Oliver and I on the back of his bike, of me and Penn walking together through campus. More of him and I running together—although luckily none from that day. There are shots of me on the front steps of my brownstone. A sneakily snapped pic of me in class, with Penn playing with my hair.
I hate it.
I hate everything.
Who the fuck has been taking creepy pictures of me?
I’m currently holed up in the library, seated at one of my regular desks on the second floor. There aren’t many people here mid-morning. I imagine the dining hall, by comparison, is packed with brunchers.
The guys have a game this afternoon, and when I emerged from my shower, I found Penn’s away jersey slung over my desk chair. He’d also gone to the trouble of changing my sheets, seeing as how there was a nice little blood smear on the ones we slept on.
My body aches, my breasts are sensitive, and the intermittent cramps are driving me crazy.
Sitting around doing nothing… Not today. It spurred me to head to the library instead. Fresh air is supposed to help. Exercise.
But now I wish I had just stayed in bed.
Is my father going to see that post? It’s written like a damn newspaper column, and it’s already getting attention. Likes and comments… shares. The more shares, the more viral it goes.
I trace the chain of Penn’s necklace. I don’t take it off, even to shower. I like to pretend that he went through with his threat of soldering the clasp. Since it hasn’t turned my skin green or tarnished in the slightest, I’ve come to the horrifying realization that this is real gold.
Which means it’s valuable.