puck you

volume two

Grayson threw his shirt back in his locker and went for his shorts instead, reaching down to place them on, and you had to tighten your thighs at seeing his bulge in those boxer briefs. "I'm listening," he said with that deep, sexy voice of his. His bright loopy eyes seemed a little darker, and he did that soft angelic look he so often did that honestly drove you crazy. The one where he slightly tilted his head down and stared through his long lashes, his brows etched a bit together, reminding you of the scar in between.

That time, you couldn't quite speak. The other boys had gone back to doing their own thing while stealing glances at you - and then Grayson's eyes went to rake over your body. His black jersey on you was tied at the front, showcasing your belly button, and then you had tight shorts on with vans and white knee socks that just drove Grayson insane. The thought of gripping your thighs and eating you out until he was full... it was too much for him, and he was lucky his coach came over before his dick started straining his obvious shorts.

"Y/N..." Coach sighed next to you, rounding the corner of the aisle, not even surprised to see you there. "Again with this. You can congratulate Mister Dolan afterwards, please step out of the boys locker room."

Nodding once, you put your head high and started walking back from where you came from. However, you gave Gray a side-eye, making sure you sent him the message that you needed to speak with him asap.

When you managed to get out of the locker room in one piece, you received a text from Gray himself not even a minute later.

The Worst Dolan🏒: Don't leave. Wait around fifteen and come back inside.

The Worst Dolan🏒: We'll be alone.

For some reason, you felt tingles at that second message. You'd been alone with Grayson before, so you didn't know why the sudden change happened.

Making your decision, you slowly walked back fifteen minutes later, trying to check and see if the coast was clear. You didn't know why you didn't leave, instead thinking about telling Grayson to speak with you later since you lived next to each other, but at the same time; he'd probably go off to celebrate with his team the whole night - and you just wanted to know what the hell had been going on down in that rink.

This time, when you got to the locker room, you felt like no one was even there. But you heard rattling, and once you reached Grayson Dolan's locker once again, he was sadly fully clothed. However, that tight white shirt hugged his torso too well. His pecks were in full show, along with his abs, and this wasn't in his shirt but his bulge that was tucked in silky grey gym shorts– God...

And then he was spreading cream all over his big hands, the sweet vanilla scent  touching his skin when he rubbed it across his arms. It was almost like he didn't know what he was doing. Then again, these were everyday normal things to a human being.

"Congrats," you said, clearing your throat when you sounded a little off.

"What were you really here for?" he asked smoothly, sitting down on the bench and brushing his short hair upwards.

Right to the point. "What happened back there?" you gently asked, leaning back against the baby blue lockers.

He didn't answer, instead kept his eyes down to reach for his socks and shoes.

"Gray..."

Nothing.

"Grayson–"

"He was just pissing me off, Y/N," he snapped  throughgritted teeth, pausing his actions.

"Why? I get it if he's from the opposing team and you both wanted to win, but there's gotta be something else the guy did. You're usually very civil with the others, no matter what."

Grayson was quiet, going for his large, cold bottle that often held his ice water in it that he had sitting on the bench. Watching him bring it up, with his bulging bicep, made you gulp at the sight. And he was sticking his tongue out to throw the liquid inside of his mouth, his neck stretching out, and Adam's apple moving when he closed his mouth to start sucking in the icy liquid. You wanted to pepper that spot with kisses.

You inhaled to speak again, when he finished drinking.

"He posted some shit online about you, okay. It was before the game, and it was some picture you probably sent him at one point," Grayson tried not to grimace, but failed to do so, and he only got angrier again with the thought of a picture of you in front of your tall mirror - posing in your panties with your arm covering your bare boobs - spreading around. However, it was a good thing you hadn't shown your face in it. "He was talking about getting you back and wrecking you after winning... Some other disgusting shit that you don't need to know about."

You rolled your shoulders back, uncomfortable and also feeling anger building up. Your ex used to be nice, tolerable, but he certainly wasn't 'the one'.

"So with that in mind, then him pushing me around and shoving me on purpose just got to me. Immature little shit." You didn't know what to say to that, but you acknowledged it with a slight nod. Hockey was something important to Gray, and he really was friendly with the other players, always trying to play clean - but if someone pushed him like that, it wasn't going to end well. "If a guy isn't good for you, I'll beat the shit out of him. Simple. Hell, I'll tell any guy to back the fuck off."

"Gray..." You tried stepping in with a whisper to your tone.

He looked directly into your eyes. "Maybe then you won't take shit for these assholes."

You were taken aback, brows knitting as you thought of his words carefully. Yeah, taking pictures was risky, but it was nothing really; it was your body. Grayson was over exaggerating on that one, or was it more...? Either way, you let out a dry chuckle and mumbled, "Okay, wow, fuck you."