Hayes (A Carolina Cyclones Story)

3.

Maggie

I've met my fair share of uptight types. Buttoned-up, high brow folks who just give off the aura of thinking they're better than you. The art world is full of them. Standing in the middle of Malcolm's bar as I dab paper towels on the crotch of quite possibly the most attractive man I've ever seen, who I just spilled alcohol all over, I'm mortified.

The man is ruggedly handsome. Perfect jaw structure, dark brown hair that's close kept on the sides but slightly longer on top. He's dressed in a perfectly white button up, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal his sun kissed skin tone and perfectly toned forearms.

Is it possible to be turned on by forearms?

I'm mid-ponder of that when he finally speaks. His voice is detached, sounding borderline bored. "You know I usually like to buy a woman dinner before I let her feel me up."

I go completely still. I can feel the blush creep up my neck and totally take over my face. It takes a moment for his comment to register. By the time it does, any amusement that had been held by his slate blue, almost gray, eyes is gone. Instead, his face is stoic. Indifferent. I can hear myself apologizing but my brain doesn't even register the words. Not that he seems to accept them. His face reads only of affronting and annoyance.

He turns then, my gaze following his attention until I see a few men sitting at one of the large tables in our more secluded area. The area I know some of the Carolina Cyclones hockey team are currently occupying. Is he with them? Professional hockey player would definitely explain his athletic build, not to mention make sense with his stature, he's huge. In a different world I'd be begging to climb him like a tree. In this world however, he merely turns and walks towards the door, escaping from my life just as quickly as he'd crashed into it.

I don't have long to daydream about him, there are drinks to be made and tables to bus. By the time last call finally rolls around I'm exhausted both physically and mentally. I help Rachel out a few days a month and each time I'm reminded how grateful I am that things have worked out for me so that I am not forced to do this nightly. It's no wonder Rachel can be a bit grouchy, she's overworked and underappreciated.

Almost as if she read my mind Rachel appears from out of the back store room and groans, "I'm fucking exhausted."

"I don't know how you do this nearly every night. Every time I help out it's a reminder that I am not truly cut out for the service industry. Especially when your regulars start in on me."

Rachel lets loose a tinkling laugh. "Yeah, Jerry can be a handful."

"He told me multiple times what he'd like a handful of." I joke. The old man had spent at least an hour tonight talking about my tits. The only reason I didn't deck him is because he's one of Rachel's best customers. He practically lives at Malcolm's and the old fart at least tips well.

I slide into a stool at the bar and play on my phone while I wait for Rachel to finish up closing down for the night. It doesn't take long and soon we pile into an Uber and head home to our apartment.

"So, Rebecca told me you had a little run in with Hayes Hansen tonight." She says, the side of her mouth in a slight uptick as she relocks the front door behind her as I grab us each a beer from the fridge and we settle into the couch in our living room.

"Who?"

Rachel stares at me in disbelief as she pops the top on her beer and takes a swig. "Tall. Dark. Perfect face. Body of a God. The Captain of the Carolina Cyclones. Does any of this ring a bell?"

I cringe. "Is that who I spilled a drink all over tonight?"

Rachel only laughs.

"I think I offended him. Or at least I should have." I shake my head. "I practically groped him."

"Oh, to be so lucky." Rachel says, clearly amused.

"What else do you know about him?" I ask, trying to downplay my curiosity. I mean, the man was indeed gorgeous but it's not like I'll ever see him again.

"Not that much honestly. A lot of the guys from the team come in several nights a week but he's rarely with them. Usually only after a win and he's kind of particular. He comes in, nurses one Heineken and then hits the road. A lot of the guys will let the puck bunnies fawn over them and all but I don't know that I've ever even seen him with a woman. Hell, I don't know that I've ever even heard rumors about him being with someone and Rebecca would tell me. She's been around the block a time or two with several guys from the team. From the little interaction I've had with him he seems friendly enough and I know he's been good for the team on the ice. They were a bit unfocused before he took over the captaincy but I think he just likes to keep to himself."

"Yeah, he was pretty short with me. Told me he likes to take a woman out before he lets them feel him up. I guess I deserved that though since I was practically giving him a handy with napkins trying to clean him up."

Rachel laughs so hard she snorts and she carries on so long that I can't help but join in. "Might be what he needs. Wouldn't hurt for him to loosen up a little."

"Yeah, well I don't think he'll be loosening up with me anytime soon."

Hayes

Soft, velvety hands work expertly at my fly. Flicking open the button and sliding down my zipper, shoving down my briefs until my manhood is released. I'm in a bathroom. Only God knows where. The tile is beige and the walls a golden yellow. Down at my feet there's a goddess on her knees. Golden hair, peppered with natural brown streaks falls around the woman's face until her lush mouth invites me in. My hands go to her hair, gripping onto the strands as I use the grip to move her on my shaft, her teeth graze my sensitive skin while her tongue laps around me.

My breathing grows labored as I fuck her mouth. She sucks at just the right pace to draw me to the edge in just minutes. Her hands reach out to grab my ass, her perfectly kemp nails biting into my glutes as she continues her perfect assault. I stare down at her and she leans back slightly, opening her eyes to look up at me and I'm surprised to see the woman from the bar.

Confusion takes over as I'm thrown from my dream just as I neared my climax. I blink my eyes open and find myself in my own bedroom. The pale blue walls are a shock to my system as I realize I was asleep.

I let loose a huff of annoyance at the heavy feeling of my balls and the morning wood I'm sporting. My dick's so hard it feels like it could fall off.

I'm fucking pathetic.

A horny, teenage type wet dream because a woman spilled a drink on me.

Have I really sunken that low?