Chapter 23

“I didn’t want to put you in this position,” Sidney whispered as his hand wrapped around hers’ as they walked into the hotel foyer. “I didn’t want people to be whispering behind your back. I just thought, with that video...people will put two and two together and....”

“And get four, because it’s true,” Mya whispered back, keeping her chin high and her gaze straight ahead as the few well dressed guests milling around near the elevators turned to stare at the girl decorating Sidney Crosby’s arm. “I am the girl in the video. I am the girl flashing her tits at the game. I’m that girl and either I am or I’m not your girlfriend, but you’d better decide before we get up to your little soiree. Because yeah, people are going to stare and point and talk, but if I’m your girlfriend, then I will smile and I will bite my tongue and I will put up with it. If not, then let me go home and sulk by myself.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” Sidney replied firmly, giving her hand a squeeze as the doors slid open. “I’m going to hate this, but if you can do this, then...I can too.”

“You forget,” Mya whispered back, tilting her head so that her lips were nearly touching his ear, “I get naked in front of a crowd for a living. This...this won’t be anything for me.”

“You obviously don’t know hockey people,” Sidney replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of his full lips.

“Oh, I don’t know. After all, I’ve been naked in front of the best,” she whispered back, her tongue darting out to flick inside of his ear. She felt Sidney shiver.

“Keep that up and we’ll be going back downstairs, getting a room and forgetting all about the party,” Sidney growled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, thinking about the smell of Jordy’s shoulder pads, all the junk food wrappers in the back seat of Max’s car, the frunk of TK’s skates...anything but the soft, smooth feel of Mya’s skin, her sugar sweet lips, and the taste of her....

“You two keep this up and you Santa will definitely have to add you to the naughty list,” Nathalie chimed from behind them, and both she and Mya dissolved into a fit of giggles just as the elevator doors slid open right in front of the doors to the ballroom.

“They made it!” Max yelled as he stormed towards them, a Santa hat pulled low over his forehead, an overstuffed red velvet bag under one arm. “I’ve been saving your present mon capitain.”

“Let us get in the door Maximus,” Sidney sighed, giving Mya’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?” he asked, looking over at her. Mya gave him what she hoped was her best, on stage, happy smile. Shrugging, Sidney stuck his chin out and got that determined, don’t mess with me look, that he often wore facing an opponent across the face off dot. Then he squared his shoulders and lead the way into the noisy, festive party.

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They did talk, and point, and whispered behind her back, but Mya, as good as her promise, did her very best to ignore it. Once or twice she felt Sidney stiffen, bristling at some whispered comment but a firm squeeze from her hand and he would take a deep breath and ignore it.

But now, now he’d been swept away by Mario to meet someone or other and Mya had been left, standing near the punch bowl, alone.

She felt like a gazelle surrounded by tigers – or maybe it was the other way around. She watched the other wives and girlfriends making wide circles around her, as if they were maybe afraid of catching something, or maybe afraid of being bitten, Mya mused as she sipped at the punch that tasted more strongly of Rum than it did of fruit.

“He’s crazy about you. You know that don’t you?” Mya didn’t have to even look to know that it was the crazy Frenchman that was the one standing beside her. Sid had warned her about him. Not that she needed a warning. After all, she’d met Max long before she’d ever laid eyes on Sidney.

“Jealous?” Mya asked, hiding a grin behind the cup she was holding.

“Hugely, insanely jealous,” Max replied, leaning in so that his breath, warm and laced with the smooth taste of expensive Brandy, tickled across her bare shoulders.“I ask myself, what has that Irish gypsy got, that I don’t?” Mya’s grin grew as she tried to stop herself from laughing. Sidney was watching them from across the room, distracted from the conversation she guessed he ought to be engrossed in. She watched his mouth twist in an angry, frustrated line when Max raised his glass in salute as he slid his other arm around her waist.

“Well, for a start, he doesn’t have a habit of going to the rippers,” Mya replied coyly, peeling Max’s arm from around her waist and stepping just out of his reach. “And for another, he doesn’t seem much interested in anyone else, unlike someone I could mention.”

“What can I say? There’s enough of me to go around, and I like to share,” Max grinned at her, holding his arms out as if to plead for innocence, something he was far from as far as Mya was concerned.

“Max...,” she sighed, shaking her head as he grinned back at her, unrepentant.

“Okay, mon dieu! Just tell me one thing.” His shit eating, superstar grin disappeared, replaced by a look that was far more serious than Mya ever remembered seeing on the stocky Frenchman’s face. “Do you love him? Or is it like it was with Tanger? Because he says you haven’t told him so and....”

“And do you think I would tell you first before I tell him?” It was Mya’s turn to grin, assuming Max was going to break out in his caricature Cheshire Cat grin at any moment.

“Well I think it’s very serious, or neither of you would be here, but I think that if you loved him....”

“Is he bothering you?” Mya turned to find Tish, wrapped in a red and gold silk jacket holding one of the twins in her arms with her tall blonde husband close on her heels. “I haven’t tried it yet but I have this idea in my head that if you sprinkle salt on him, he’ll shrivel up and go away.”

“Ouch. Such nastiness! And at the Holidays too, I’m wounded,” Max complained loudly, to which all of them laughed.

“As for you,” Tish offered her free arm and Mya slid into it, hugging the new mother as close as she could. “I have to say, that move tonight, crazy, but brave.”

“And stupid. Don’t forget stupid,” Mya added, looking down into the bundle Tish held in her arms. The softly pink, red fuzz topped bundle that was sleeping soundly, despite the music and the general din of a couple of hundred people all talking at once.

“Are you kidding? Right now you’re more famous than Sid and Roethlisberger put together,” Tish pointed out, steering both Mya and her husband towards Santa. “Congrats on the new job by the way. You must be looking forward to it.”

“Well I was, before tonight. Now...now I’m just going to be the booby girl and no one is ever going to take me seriously.” Mya sighed, and narrowed her eyes at Jordan when he snorted.

“What? She said booby. That’s funny,” Jordan complained to his wife who only shook her head at him, obviously disappointed.

“Can you believe he’s a dad?” Tish asked.

“Can you believe you married him?” Mya countered to which Tish could only nod and shrug. “How’s the head by the way?”

“He’ll live, if I don’t cleave his skull with the baby monitor the next time he refuses to get up for at least one of the feeds,” Tish replied for her husband, as if he didn’t have an opinion on the state of his own health.

“Ouch,” Mya shuddered at the thought and absentmindedly reached up to touch the top of her own head and, just for a brief moment, wondered where her police hat had ended up.

“Have you had your picture taken with Santa yet?” Jordan asked as they reached the dais and got in line behind TK and his posse. Mya shook her head and glanced over her shoulder to where Sidney still seemed to be ensconced amongst a number of older men. He didn’t seem to actually be taking part in the conversation and she wondered if it was her duty, as a good girlfriend, to go over and drag him away.

“Mon ami, you do know Monsieur Claus is not real, oui?” Max asked, still sticking very close to Mya’s side, despite the fact that she was ignoring him, or doing her best to ignore him, despite the fact that he was practically velcro’d to her side it seemed. Jordan narrowed his eyes at his shorter friend and made a face but Max only laughed, not even bothering to move out of range of the taller forward’s formidable reach. “You, on the other hand, in that beautiful gown,” Max continued, pitching his voice low, so that only she could hear. “You look like you could be Santa’s hot mistress. Hot...dirty mistress.” Mya felt his lips on her bare shoulder and practically jumped out of her skin, turning and laying the flat of her hand across his face before she’d even had time to fully deliberate on the ramifications of slapping a Pittsburgh Penguin in public, and the hero of game seven at that.

Horrified, Mya hand flew up to her mouth to stifle a list of highly descriptive curse words. But before she could turn, hike her dress up and run out of the ballroom, which had been the very next thought that came to her, she felt a pair of strong arms pulling her back against the width of an equally strong chest and nearly fainted against him in relief.

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“You never know when to stop, do you Maxim?” Sidney did his best to make his voice sound light, non-threatening, but the look in his eyes, he knew by Max’s reaction, was murderous.

“You know me, le clown de classe à vôtre service.” Max smiled and made a show of a low courtly bow, but the look in his own eyes was far from apologetic. This wasn’t the first time, Sidney thought as he tightened his grip around Mya’s waist, almost without thinking of how much that was a declaration of territory. As much a way of saying ‘mine’ and ‘not yours’ as it was a protective gesture. Max’s eyes flicked from Sidney’s to Mya’s and his grin grew, but it was the grin of the sly fox near the chicken coup. Thwarted this time by the guard dog, but knowing there would be other times, other opportunities. That grin made Sidney’s blood boil.

“You have a very good right hand, mademoiselle. Je peux penser a d’autres utilisations pour lui, mais, peut-être une autre heure.” With that, Max bowed low over his hand and then turned on his heel and, whistling as if nothing untoward had happened, headed towards the dance floor. To look for more trouble, no doubt, Sidney thought darkly as he loosened his grip on Mya’s and let out his breath in a long whistle of his own.

“You two...I don’t get it. One minute best buds the next....” Sidney shot Jordan a look that shut the tall blonde up immediately and he was glad when Tish urged her husband towards Santa’s knee.

“I’m sorry about that. That you had to...that Max....” Mya turned in the circle of his arms and laid her head affectionately on his shoulder, despite the fact that the heels Nathalie had helped pick out made her as tall as him.

“It’s kind of nice to be fought over actually,” she chuckled and the reverberation against his neck sent a shudder down Sidney’s spine. “It does a girl’s ego good.” Sidney rubbed her back in a comforting sort of way, realizing that she was giving him the opportunity to be the comforting, protective boyfriend, that it was obvious from the large red welt on the side of Max’s face that she didn’t really need protecting. That too made Sidney’s blood pressure rise.

He looked over her shoulder at Jordan and the babies getting their picture with Santa and realized that he hadn’t gotten his time on the Jolly Old Elf’s knee, but the pounding of the blood in his veins was something he was no longer willing to ignore.

“Come. Now.” He managed, just about, to speak as he unwound her body from his and wrapped his hand around hers’ instead. Mya’s eyes got wide, but she didn’t question him, just stumbled after him as he dragged her through the crowd, out the doors and down the hall.

He tried to think of the fastest way to get to a secluded spot where he could administer his own brand of justice but everywhere he looked, there seemed to be people, down the hall, towards the bathrooms, even coming out of the elevator.

Jesus Christ, it was almost two in the fucking morning. Didn’t these people have homes to go to?

The car!

Sidney felt in his pocket for the keys that Mario had handed him about an hour ago after partaking in about his fifth glass of wine. He and Nat could take a taxi home, he reasoned, dragging Mya down the emergency stairs. He didn’t have the patience to wait for an elevator.

He could hear her heels clicking on the marble floors behind him as they practically ran through the lobby and he could see people staring, wondering why he was dragging her behind him like a dog on a leash, but he couldn’t care. All he could think about, the only thought in his head now was having her, taking her, being inside of her. Even if she didn’t want it, he knew he’d do it anyway. He had to. It was the driving force in his head now, to make her pay for what she’d done, how she’d humiliated him at the game and how he’d had to pander to the cops who’d loved every minute of making him beg for her.

Now it was her turn to beg, he decided as he pushed her ahead of him towards the car, unlocking it from the key fob. He watched her climb inside, her plump round ass wrapped in that red velvet making his cock stand to at attention.

“On your knees,” he growled, glancing around the dark, damp, parking lot. There was no one around, but still.... He pulled the door closed behind him and ducked his head as he yanked his cock free. This tux was going to be a write off.

He kneeled on the plush leather seat behind her, dragging her dress up over her ass and baring her lily white skin to his greedy eyes. No panties. The thought of her pussy, bare and inviting, had been driving him crazy all evening. Now it was convenient, almost too convenient. He almost missed the sight of lacy under things. But still....

His breath escaped in a ragged gasp as he shoved his way inside of her. He heard her whimper and it made him smile. She was going to do more than whimper if he had his way.

Leaning over her back, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, thrusting inside of her again as he did so and she moaned like a whore.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse, breathy, as he leaned into her, reaching around with his other hand to slide his hand inside the top of her dress, grabbing a handful of tit, pinching her nipple, hard. “Do you like my dick inside you?”

“Yessss,” she sighed, pushing back against him, trying to take him deeper. He laughed and withdrew, dragging her head back by her hair so that he could kiss her. He licked her lips, bit them, felt her pushing back against him, her pussy hunting his cock.

“Do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you with my dick?” he asked, massaging her breast with ungentle hands.

“Please,” she begged, her ass pushing against him so that his cock slid against her hot, wet folds. The head of his dick slid over her clit and she groaned, pushing against him urgently. “Please Sidney. Please,” she begged, pushing down and back, rubbing herself over him, making his dick slick with her juices.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, biting on her earlobe, her shoulder. “After what you’ve done tonight, you’ve been such a bad girl.” She whimpered again, pressing down on him and reaching back, her nails scratching at his thighs as she tried to pull him into her.

“Then show me who’s boss. Fuck me. Fuck me like the whore I am,” she begged, almost sobbing now as he teased her clit with the head of his cock, rubbing against it, over it, and then pulling back.

“My whore,” he corrected her, dragging her head back so that she was forced to look at him. “No more, do you hear me? No one else ever gets to see you like this but me. Say it!” She might be whimpering, might be begging he thought, but the dark fire in her eyes as she looked at him was far from acquiescent.

“I’m yours,” she promised, her gaze holding his for a long moment so he could see the truth there before she allowed her gaze to slide down, lingering on where their bodies where nearly joined before her gaze once again locked on his. “I love you and I don’t want to lose you,” she added, her gaze softening for a moment. “I don’t want to fuck up and lose you so if that means I have to be your bitch Sidney, then yeah, I’m yours.”

His heart stopped beating for long enough that he had to cough to breathe, and then he let go of her all at once and backed up until he was sitting as far away from her as he could. He was staring straight ahead, but he could hear the leather creak as she moved to sit beside him. He felt her hand on his cheek, and let her turn his face to look at her.

“You love me?” he asked before she could say any more.

“Yes, dummy,” she smiled, touching her lips to his briefly, the truth of it shining in her cats’ eyes. “I love you. I can’t think of anything but you, waking, sleeping, eating...all I do is think about you and...I keep hoping you still feel that way about me.” He nodded, feeling this enormous lump in his throat as he tried to swallow. She smiled, a sort of cat who got the cream sort of smile, and then she kissed him, hungrily, forcefully.

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He was surprised, which meant Max had been right. He’d needed to hear her say it. Under all that tough little boy stuff was an insecure young man who needed to hear her say that she loved him.

It made her feel tender towards him, maternal, protective.

It made her hot as hell to see him bite his lip and look over at her with tears in his eyes.

“You love me?” he asked, in an almost whisper, as if it were hard for him to say.
“Yes, dummy,” she replied, letting him see just how much as she gazed into his gold flecked orbs. “I love you. I can’t think of anything but you, waking, sleeping, eating...all I do is think about you and...I keep hoping you still feel that way about me.” He nodded and she felt triumphant.

It had been a stupid day. Maybe one of the worst days of her life, but this made up for it. Seeing him looking back at her, young and vulnerable, with his dick sticking out of his pants, saluting her...well maybe technically the day was already over but she intended to make this day end well anyway.

Hiking her dress up to her hips, Mya kissed him, softly, hungrily, as she straddled his hips and lowered herself over him. She had to tilt her head or hit it on the roof of the car, but with his lips locked on hers’ she was far from caring if she had a sore neck later.

She moaned into his mouth as he thrust up inside of her. By now she was so wet that she had to hold onto his shoulders or risk sliding off, so she dug her fingers into the shoulder pads of his jacket and pressed her forehead against his, holding his gaze as she moved over him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as his eyes closed and he uttered a low groan.

“It’s over,” he whispered, back, offering his soft lips up to hers’ and she kissed him, softly, gently. “I’ve already forgiven you,” he said softly, his lips still brushing hers, his hazel eyes now open, searching her face. “I love you. I think I have since that day in the bookstore. I just had all that other shit going on....”

“Shhhh,” she kissed him again, silencing him as his hands cupped her ass, slowing her movements until they were barely moving at all. Until they were just being, as one, joined together, their hearts beating in unison.

“No, I need to say it,” Sidney began earnestly. “I think...I’ve decided that maybe Randi...maybe it was like a dry run, a practice. Maybe it was just to let me know I could do this, be in a relationship, love someone unconditionally. Maybe it was to let me know what it felt like to lose someone so that I’d know how much I don’t want to lose you.”

Tears sprang from her eyes and Mya felt a sob bubbling up in her throat. She couldn’t remember anyone, not even her parents, ever saying anything so amazingly sweet in her entire life. She felt his hand slide up her side, up her arm, onto her cheek. His hand cupped her face and then he kissed her, so softly that his lips barely brushed hers’ but she couldn’t think of a single kiss that meant more than this one.

“I love you,” she sniffed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek to his. “I don’t deserve you. I’m such a fucking pain in the ass and you could have anyone and I don’t know why you’d even bother with someone like me and....” Sidney’s thick fingers dug into her shoulders and he pushed her back, holding her so that she had to look down at him.

“I love you...and sure you can be a pain,” he said, smiling up at her. “But I do love you Mya. So much it fucking hurts. Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at someone and not be able to breathe? To know that that person could rip your heart out and you wouldn’t even care? That’s the way I feel about you. So I don’t want to hear about why I wouldn’t love you. I do okay? I just fucking do.”

He kissed her fiercely then, his tongue demanding and forceful as it twined with hers and he pushed himself up into her so hard that she lost her breath and everything else just disappeared.