Captain, My Nemesis

TRISTAN

The second the door closed behind me, a fist crashed into my face.

I was sent sprawling against the wall as pain exploded across my cheekbone.

"Fuck," I groaned, swallowing the blood that filled my mouth.

"I can tell you love games, kid." The hefty guy who just punched me laughed, yanking me close by my jersey. "Unfortunately Boss is done playing. Where is the money?"

"I already--"

Slam!

Another punch drove into my gut and I doubled over gasping.

"There's only three words I'd like to hear. Try again."

Fuck. I didn't have the fucking money and these bastards...

Struggling to breathe, I glanced at the other goon who stood with a goofy grin on his pimple ridden face.

When our eyes met, he made a gun sign at me with his fingers.

Stupid fuck.

I kissed my teeth and straightened, holding the fist around my jersey.

"Listen." I started, clearing my throat when my voice came out croaky. "I got busy with practice for the past week. The boss fucking knows me, okay. I'd never fuck around with his money."

"Well if he knew that he wouldn't send me here, would he?" Hefty guy snarled, yanking my hand off his. He gripped my wrist tightly and began bending it backwards until the pain nearly had me shouting out loud.

Finally, when he was about to snap the thing, he relented. "It'll be a shame to break your money maker, no? End of the week."

That said, he shoved me hard and walked off with his second, their laughter fading down the hallway like nothing had happened.

I stayed slumped against the wall for a few seconds, fighting against my every instinct to go after him and punch him in the back of the head.

I couldn't believe I let it get this bad.

They came to my fucking school man.

My school. The one place I was supposed to be safe.

Shit!

Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up and stumbled towards the guest locker room.

Blood was still dripping down my chin and I couldn't return to the ice like that.

But when I shoved the door open, my feet stopped cold at the doorway.

Shit. Wasn't everyone supposed to be on the ice?

How much of that did he hear?

The last person I needed to know my business was definitely NOT this asshole.

However, as I tracked my eyes down, my spiralling thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

Oh.

Out of all the ways I’d imagined catching my arch rival off guard, this wasn’t one of them.

He was leaning back against the lockers, lips parted in obvious pleasure as the girl kneeling before him worked him over with her mouth.

The sight sent a ripple of unbidden shock waves through me.

All the blood in my body began heating and rushing south. My gut tightened in disgust.

This couldn't be fucking happening.

Not only was it gross and unnatural, my dick shouldn’t be reacting to Hunter Fucking Beaumont — the one person I hated more than anyone else on this planet.

Suddenly, his eyes dragged open and, after a brief second, locked onto mine.

Shit!

My heart slammed hard against my ribcage.

I should look away.

Get your fucking eyes off him, Reeves.

Heat crawled up to my neck as I remained still, unable to tear my eyes from the obscene sight of Hunter Beaumont getting his cock sucked.

The devil’s mouth curved into a slow, mocking smirk, like he could read every filthy thought racing through my head.

He buried his fingers deeper into the girl’s hair, guiding her rhythm without breaking eye contact with me.

"Didn't expect an audience today, Reeves," he drawled, voice thick and lazy with satisfaction.

The girl startled at his words and she jerked back, pulling off him with a wet pop.

"Oh God." she exclaimed, embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she turned and saw me.

But I wasn't even looking at her.

My eyes were on Hunter Beaumont’s fucking dick.

If there's truly a God looking down at us from the skies, he's one funny bastard with an annoying sense of humor.

Because a fuckwad like Beaumont doesn't deserve to have such a big, girthy cock. It was like filling an already over-inflated balloon with more air.

The thing just stood there, bobbing up and down while glistening with the saliva from her mouth.

It looked absolutely magn—Christ! What the fuck are you thinking, Reeves?

I sunk my teeth into the insides of my cheeks. “Maybe if you didn't do shit like this in a public locker room, you wouldn't be interrupted.”

The bastard only shrugged, amusement dancing in his eyes.

As his girl grew more embarrassed, he wrapped a fist around his disgustingly fat cock and gave it one long, slow stroke.

A bead of precum leaked from the swollen tip, glistening under the locker room lights. My mouth fucking watered before I could stop myself.

“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I gritted through clenched teeth.

His smirk only deepened, completely unbothered.

“Just trying to get my dick sucked Reeves. Preferably without a creep gawking at me.”

Despite calling me the creep, the asshole maintained eye contact with me while continuing to jerk himself off.

His first moved over his rod and on the third upstroke, he swiped his thumb over the slit to scoop up his precum, which he then proceeded to slide into the girl's mouth.

A hot, unwelcome jolt of arousal shot straight through me, stopped short by a violent wave of disgust and self-loathing that made my stomach churn.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

My teeth sunk even deeper into the meat of my cheek, filling my mouth with the taste of copper.

That filthy smirk stayed plastered on his face as he turned her head back towards him with the other hand.

"Keep going, baby," he rumbled. "Don't stop on his account."

The girl hesitated and her cheeks burned bright red.

But then she leaned forward again and took him back into her mouth.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

Shock ripped through me. This shameless bastard was seriously making her continue right in front of me?

My heart pounded so hard it hurt. That heat flooded my entire face as I stood there, unable to process his sheer audacity.

"You look a little... flushed. Wanna take notes from her?"

That finally snapped me out of my stupor.

I flushed even harder, white-hot anger mixing with something I refused to name.

"Fuck you, Beaumont." I snarled.

He only chuckled, thrusting his hips forward to push deeper into the girl’s mouth while keeping his eyes locked on mine..

Fuck.

Panic clawed up my throat and I quickly tore my eyes away.

My first instinct was to turn around and bolt. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

If he could be so blase about this, then so could I.

Forcing my legs to move, I walked straight to the sink, turned the cold water on full blast and splashed it over my face.

Pink streaks of blood swirled down the drain.

In the mirror, I could see him watching me the entire time, that arrogant smirk never leaving his face.

Suddenly, his lips parted and he let out the most sinful---no disgusting groan I'd ever heard.

Christ.

Was the bastard having an orgasm?

Ignoring the tightness in my gut, I wiped my face roughly and quickly headed for the door.

As I passed, Beaumont murmured low in his throat. "See you on the ice, captain."

I didn't even glance at him.

I just raised my middle finger and slammed the door shut behind me.

As I stormed out of the locker room, blood was still roaring in my ears.

My mind was completely fucked, and the last thing I wanted was to play a fucking championship game.

But I had no choice.

By the time I got back on the ice, warmups were over. Coach shot me a sharp glare, but didn't say anything.

"Hey man. Where'd you go?" Carter, my best friend and goalie whispered as I pulled my helmet on.

A lump formed in my throat, thinking of a lie I could tell him, but I was saved from answering by the sharp whistle that tore through the loud arena.

Beaumont skated onto the ice at that moment.

Our eyes met.

…And he fucking winked at me.

That arrogant bastard.

My teeth ground as I skated onto the first line for the face-off.

Beaumont was right there and he gave me a knowing smirk.

“Reeves, you–”

The puck dropped and I didn't catch the end of his words, thank FUCK.

However ten minutes later I actually wished I had heard what he said.

Maybe it was a warning that he was going to drag my team across the fucking ice.

“Take five, Reeves. We need you back on the ice ASAP.”

Coach Morrison growled as I skated toward the bench, my lungs burning from the line I’d just played.

Taking off my helmet, I avoided looking at the scoreboard hanging above the rink.

Coach was barking instructions to someone beside me, but the deafening arena drowned him out. Most of the noises were coming from my school’s section.

I still didn’t understand how they had so much hope considering the pitiful scores on the board.

Grabbing my water bottle, I squirted some into my mouth.

But the second I lowered it, a shadow fell over me.

Oh for fucks sake.

“You know,” My worst nightmare drawled from the other side of the board. “There’s a way to make this more interesting.”