THE CAPTAIN'S SECRET GOALIE

THE CAPTAIN'S SECRET GOALIE

iyunadeadeniji · Ongoing · 124.6k Words

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Introduction

He was supposed to be a one-night stand. Not my roommate, my captain, and my biggest enemy.
I'm Elliot Cross, and I came to college on a hockey scholarship with one goal: prove everyone wrong about the "too small" goalie and make it to the NHL.
I wasn't supposed to hook up with a stranger at a frat party.
I definitely wasn't supposed to discover that stranger is Weston Pierce, my team captain, and new roommate, the guy everyone on the team hates.
West is 6'3" of cold, controlled perfection. He's strict, demanding, and treats me like I don't belong on his team. On the ice, he humiliates me. Off the ice, he ignores me.
But when we're alone? When no one's watching?
He can't keep his hands off me.
It starts as hate. It turns into heat. And then it becomes something neither of us can control.

Chapter 1

ELLIOT'S POV.

Heyyyy! Mom said to tell you that you're booked for group anger management therapy on Wednesday. Make sure you go, Eli, so we don't have another incident.’

I frowned down at my sister's message and shoved my phone back into my pocket. I was barely 24 hours into college and they wouldn’t get off my back.

“What’s wrong?!” Delia screamed next to me, I could barely hear her over the noise from the party.

“Nothing.” I yelled back, “Just my sister.”

I left it like that because I wasn’t about to start dumping all my issues on a girl I’ve known for only three hours.

“C'mon,” she pressed against my arm, “Let’s go get drunk.”

Technically, I wasn’t even allowed to drink yet, but as Delia had said, this was the college experience apparently, frat parties and underage drinking.

She dragged me through bodies and into the kitchen. It was crowded but not too much.

There was a big dude by the coolers who eyed us from head to toe as we approached.

“Oh hey freshmen!” he boomed, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I winced. “You interested in being a pledge? You’d get free lodging.”

“Eh...no thanks.” I shrugged him off.

“What about your girlfriend over here?” he nodded at Delia who’d returned with two red solo cups.

“Oh no, we just met.” She shook her head, “At the dorms. We’re athletes, he plays hockey.”

“Really?” he raised a brow, taking in my height and baggy clothes. “What position?”

“Goalie.” I grumbled.

“You’re kind of small for a goalie.”

“I know right!” Delia squealed, pressing even closer. “He’s our short king.”

She giggled and the contents of her cup spilled down the front of my hoodie. She gasped, stumbling back. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry. Lemme get a towel.”

“It’s fine.” I took a step back. I could feel my patience slowly wearing thin. “I’ll just wash it off in the bathroom.”

Before she could say anything else, I left the kitchen and squeezed past groping couples on the stairs, stepping into the first bathroom I could find without a line.

There was a boy already there.

More of a man actually, he looked like he was a senior. Tall with broad shoulders and strong, toned muscles. He had a fuzzy buzzcut, and a bump on the bridge of his nose.

Unable to help myself, my gaze was drawn to his biceps, bare in the sleeveless tank he had on.

He turned then, pinning me with sharp, ice cold eyes.

My cheeks flamed and I shuffled to the sink with my eyes downcast. He finished at the urinal and joined me seconds after, standing a few feet away to wash his hands.

“You’re a freshman?” His voice was deep but smooth, and I shivered all over.

“Y-yeah.” I couldn’t look him in the eye for some reason, and forced myself to focus on the hoodie I was scrubbing.

“If you spilled what I think you spilled on that, then it’s not going to come out anytime soon.”

I raised my gaze and he was suddenly closer, glancing down at me with a knowing look. I swallowed.

“It reeks though.”

“Yeah.” He looked like he was considering something. “I’ve got a spare hoodie in one of these rooms. Do you want to come get it?”

The way he was looking at me, heavy and loaded, like he knew. It seemed like he offering more than just a spare hoodie.

“Okay.” My voice was quiet, barely audible.

“Cool.” He said, and then I was following him out of the bathroom and into a small, dark room with only a lamp as light.

He locked the door behind him and I flinched.

Okay so this was really happening.

“Are you uh...” I swallowed, “In this fraternity?”

He pinned me with a look I couldn’t read. “No. Just crashing for a while. Here.”

He pushed the hoodie in my hand. It was soft, fleece lined, more expensive looking than any one I owned.

It felt almost wrong to accept it from him. I looked up to thank him, but he was suddenly closer, backing me up against the desk.

He was really tall, so I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

“What’s your name?” he asked, zipping down my hoodie.

My heart was pounding so fast I was sure he could hear it. “Elliot.” I gasped.

“Have you ever done this before, Elliot?”

“No.” His hands ran up my sides, cool on my overheated skin.

“I figured.” He smirked, and then he was leaning down to take my lips, swallowing whatever I was about to retort.

“Fuck.” I moaned, scrambling to hold on to something as he pressed close and pushed his tongue into my mouth.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Was I really about to hook-up with a random senior at a Frat party on my first night as a college freshman?

If this was the college experience, then I wasn’t complaining.

I opened my mouth for him, straining on my toes to meet him halfway. He pulled away to mouth down my neck, sucking bruises into the skin.

“Wow, you’re pretty short.”

I frowned. “I’m average height, you’re just stupidly tall.”

“Prickly too.” He chuckled against my skin.

He leaned back up to kiss me, successfully stopping my retort. I melted against him, a boneless heap of pleasure.

He swooped me up and placed me on the desk, bringing my hand to his fly. He was rock hard and tenting his jeans.

“Go on,” he purred, “Bring me out.”

I shuddered out a breath and did as he said. He was big in my hands, thick and girthy. His wasn’t the first cock I’ve touched, but for some reason, I was suddenly nervous.

“Have you ever given a blowjob before?” he asked, breath ragged.

I didn’t answer, choosing instead to sink down to my knees. I pumped the shaft, once twice, and then after a beat of silence, I was swallowing his cock down my throat.

He hissed and groaned, his hand coming down to fist my hair. He was too big to take down to the root, so I worked the rest with my hands, bobbing up and down, moaning when he pulled my hair just right.

“Fuck,” he moaned, voice quiet “You’re really good at this.”

I hummed around him, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard. He bent over me and shoved my head down.

I gagged, and then he was cumming down my throat, and I was cumming in my pants.

I swallowed shakily, licking his cock clean as I pulled off with a pop. His eyes were hazy, the blue not as harsh as it’d been earlier.

They widened when he saw the wet patch in my pants and I blushed, climbing shakily to my feet.

He tucked himself in, and it was suddenly very awkward.

“I should uh...leave.” I muttered quietly, “My friend’s probably looking for me.”

“Right yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t forget the hoodie.”

“Yeah.” I picked it back up and shrugged into it, holding mine in my hand. Thankfully his was large enough to cover the wet spot on my crotch.

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah sure.” But he wasn’t looking at me anymore.

I tried not to be too disappointed as I stepped back into the party. After all, I never even got his name, it wasn’t like I’d ever see him again.

Right?

Nope, absolutely fucking wrong.

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