It happens because she’s nervous. She doesn’t want to admit it, but it's true. She can play hockey on an international stage, she can be an exceptional player in the O, she can answer any question the media or the NHL throws at her, no matter how hard or how stupid.
But apparently she can’t manage to sneak a vibrator into her hotel without running directly into Jack Eichel.
She doesn't want to buy one online and have it shipped to her billet, because it feels embarrassing. She doesn't want to have one shipped to her in Toronto, because her dad is in the habit of opening her stuff to figure out if he should send it to Erie. She can’t buy one in Erie because someone she knows could see her, and she can’t buy one in Toronto because someone who knows her would definitely see her. She thought about buying a vibrator in Buffalo, but the combine was so hyped, and besides, there were people in that town who bought custom order jerseys with her name on them.
Sunrise, though. The draft was advertised, but it wasn’t the kind of town that followed junior hockey or draft buzz. Maybe some people did, but probably not the people who worked behind the counter of the novelty shop with mostly joke-sex toys in the back.
She’s still nervous, but this is probably her safest best. And god, she’s so sick of her own hand.
The shop is, just like the website promised, mostly joke stuff. But there are three vibrators that don’t look scary big or weirdly complicated. She stares at them for a minute, trying to focus, but she can feel the fetish things just outside her line of sight. It makes her blush, which just adds to her discomfort. She gives up and grabs the one on the left and pays without even pretending that it’s a gag gift or an accidental purchase or something.
What she hadn’t counted on is how awkward she feels carrying the thing back to the hotel. Maybe if she carried her own weed more, she’d know how to walk like the bag wasn’t both a secret and a ticking time bomb. She gets looks in the lobby, and she's absurdly thankful that she still has her hat pulled down when she gets to the elevator.
She gets up to her floor. She almost gets through her door. But in her haste to open the door and get somewhere private, she walks directly into Jack Eichel’s chest.
She looks up at him wildly and stares for a second. Jack stares back.
“Don’t even want to say excuse me?” Jack finally says. “OK.”
“Sorry,” she says, then turns away too quickly to pull out her key card and open the door.
“Are you seriously nervous about sneaking out?”
“No,” says Connor. “Shh.”
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to get between you and your newly purchased-”
He pulls the side of her plastic shopping bag open to peek in, and his sentence cuts short. Connor pushes the door open and rips the bag back, but the damage is done.
“Well, I’d say didn’t mean to get between you and your hand, but I guess that’s not quite correct?” he says with a broad grin.
“Shut up,” says Connor desperately.
“What? There’s no one in the hallway to overhear that you just bought a vibrator,” Jack says.
Connor grabs him by the arm and yanks him into the room behind her.
“Dude,” Jack says, “Relax. I’m not going to shout to the whole hallway that you just bought a vibrator. Even though you just bought a vibrator.”
“Will you shut up?” Connor says. She yanks her hat off in frustration and walks over to put the bag on the bed.
“Will you tell me more about this vibrator?” Jack says.
“No. What is there to tell, it’s a vibrator,” says Connor.
She’s embarrassed, and she’s pretty sure that he knows it. Jack looks smug as fuck, which is an unfortunately good look for him. He also looks like he’s getting comfortable now that Connor has stopped crowding him against the door.
“What’d you buy it for?” Jack asks.
“What do you think I bought it for?” she snaps.
“It's a birthday gift? Had to get it for one of your cliquey OHL truth or dare games? Are you holding it for a friend?” Jack rattles off, still smug as he walks further into the room.
“No!” says Connor. “I just wanted one, OK. Fuck off.”
“You’re horny?” Jack says with too much surprise and delight.
“Obviously,” says Connor, trying to stand her ground even though her cheeks are blotchy.
“Dylan Strome is on this floor, dude. Are you telling me he’s not any good with his fingers?” Jack teases harder as he sits down on her bed like he has any right to.
“I’m not sleeping with Dylan!”
“Apparently you’re not sleeping with anyone,” Jack says.
He picks up the vibrator and shakes it at her to prove his point.
Connor makes an inarticulate, angry noise, and goes into the bathroom for a glass of water. She feels tight with embarrassment and frustration. But she’s also been lowkey horny since she left the hotel, excited to have something new and excited to finally get off. The two feelings are mixing around in her stomach. And that’s mixing up with just the idea of Jack. Stupid Jack, who’s been pushing her to try and be decisively better, who’s wearing that smug look very well, who’s sitting on her bed. Where he’s probably thinking about her new vibrator. Maybe about her pussy.
The feelings in Connor instantly catalyze into ‘horny’. She finishes her water and gets ready to go kick Jack out of the room so she can maybe see if all the vibrator hype is worth it.
When she walks out, Jack has made himself even more comfortable on her bed and is reading the back of the vibrator package.
“OK, time for you to put that down and leave,” Connor says, and tries to put every ounce of captain she possibly can into her voice. Jack doesn’t even look up.
“Well I’d be happy to go, but unless you travel with double A batteries, it's not going to matter if I put this down or not,” Jack says.
“What?” Connor asks.
Jack finally looks up at her. He grins and turns the package around. Connor comes closer and sees that his finger is pointing to the bottom where the package says “takes one AA battery, not included.”
Connor doesn’t travel with double A batteries.
“Fuck,” Connor says.
“Not tonight, apparently,” says Jack with delight.
“Oh would you shut up!” Connor says, and grabs the package.
“Maybe today’s the day you start sleeping with Dylan after all,” says Jack.
Connor doesn’t respond, just throws the package onto the bed with more force than is necessary and growls in frustration.
“Poor horny McJesus,” says Jack. It's not exactly mean, but it's not friendly ribbing either.
“You’re so annoying Eich, god,” says Connor. She lies down on the bed and covers her eyes.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I not being helpful enough? Put your phone down your pants and I’ll call you.”
Connor takes her hand off her eyes and glares at him.
“It won’t do any good if you call,” she says, “I’ll still have to listen to you.”
It's a weak chirp. She can do better. But Jack still laughs, like maybe he didn’t think she’d say anything back to him. They stay like that for a minute: Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, Connor lying there staring at the ceiling. After a second she groans again.
“If you’re so horny, why don’t you just go find some seventh round draft pick who’s just happy to be here for a quicky? Everyone’s staying in this hotel anyway.”
“Yeah, and have him tell the story to everyone ten minutes after I’m drafted? No thanks.”
“Why would he tell the story to everyone?”.
“I don’t know,” says Connor, “Ask the last guy I slept with.”
Jack is silent at that.
“I think it was a power trip thing to him,” she says quietly, even though Jack probably doesn’t want to know, “You know, make himself feel better because he played a trick on the famous McDavid or whatever…..”
“What a fucking shithead,” Jack says. Connor is surprised by the venom in his voice.
“He was kind of an asshole,” Connor allows.
“Dudes who do that are such tools,” says Jack. “They all think they’re so cool.”
“He wasn’t that good in bed either,” says Connor.
There’s silence. She didn’t even mean to say that, and she can feel herself getting blotchy and red again. Why is she having this conversation with Jack, why does she keep slipping?
“No?” Jack says. His voice has changed a little bit. It’s deeper now. He sounds like he cares and anyway, he’s not making fun of her.
“No,” Connor says. “There was no, ah, foreplay.”
Jack snorts a little.
“What, he couldn’t find your clit?” Jack says.
“He didn’t even try,” Connor confides.
“Tool for sure,” Jack says.
“I guess. I wouldn’t really know,” Connor says uncomfortably.
Jack looks over at her again, considering. His eyes feel heavy on her.
“Why not?” he asks.
“I don’t really have much of, you know, anything, to compare it to,” Connor says.
There’s a pause.
“Take it from someone who’s apparently had a lot more sex than you,” says Jack after a second. “He should have at least eaten you out.”
Connor squeezes her legs together involuntarily at the idea.
“I'll send him a note,” she says.
“There you go. Say ‘you're a tool, you owe me some head, love Connie’ Can't go wrong with that.”
Connor kicks him in the thigh. He's not expecting it and he moves several inches.
“Whoa, fuck you,” he says.
He moves to grab her leg, but she's ready. She kicks as his hand closes on her ankle and she pokes him in the newly exposed side. He falls to his side on the bed.
“Here I am trying to give you solid advice, and this is how I'm repaid?”
He twists her arm enough that she can't get to his side again, and makes to give her a noogie. She's not going to let that stand.
Wrestling with the guys is normal for Connor. She does it on the team all the time, to get a Mario Kart advantage, or work off nervous energy, whatever. Sometimes it feels like tackling Dylan to the ground is the only way to communicate with him. It's really not weird to roll around with a guy, trying to give him jumper cables.
This is weird now though.
Connor’s anticipating every touch, not because she has to retaliate, but because it feels good. It doesn’t feel like it does with some guy from the team. Jack’s hands feel warmer; she keeps noticing how big they are against her ribs, around her wrists. Jack hovers closer to her. He doesn’t immediately try to pull his legs back to kick her or poke her again. There’s some heat growing between them.
No one really wins. Jack has her legs pinned down with one knee, but Connor has a clear shot at his ribs that they both know she could take whenever she wanted. They stay there for a second. Connor is hyper-aware of the way she’s panting, despite the fact that they didn’t really do anything. Connor has one hand wrapped around Jack’s wrist, and she squeezes it for a minute before she settles under the weight of his leg.
They’re just staying there, not doing anything. Connor thinks that she should move before she embarasses herself. Jack’s wrist twitches under Connor’s hand. She doesn’t want to meet his eyes, because she’s pretty sure that he’ll be able to see how much she wants.
Maybe the front desk has batteries.
“I don’t need a power trip,” Jack says, out of the blue.
She looks up at his face. He looks oddly steady, like he’s forcing himself to be.
“If I want to get one over on you, I can beat you on the ice. I’ve done it before,” he says. “And it wouldn’t do me any good to tell people, I’d just have to answer more fucking questions about you.”
It takes Connor a few beats of silence to realize what Jack is saying, what he’s offering. She breathes out shakily.
He wets his lips a little, and Connor’s eyes zero in on the motion before she can stop herself. She must be more desperate than she realizes, if she can’t keep control over her body. Jack notices where her eyes are focused. He raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah?” he says, and he doesn’t sound as steady as he was forcing himself to be before.
She doesn’t know how to say it. She kind of wishes she had more experience. It would be the perfect moment to do something sexy, if she had any idea what to do without looking like an idiot. Instead, she gives in to the urge to spread her legs. Jack still has one leg pinning her legs down and he ends up kneeling on the bed with his thigh pressed against her. That feels great after so much nothing and she grinds against it just a little.
Jack looks down at this, then back up at her.
“Yeah?” he says again.
“Yeah,” Connor whispers. Her throat feels dry.
Jack shifts up and Connor has to let go of his wrist to let him get on all fours. He sits up, kind of on her knee. He runs both hands down her sides, his palms feeling extra hot through her shirt as they run over her ribs. When he gets to her waistband, he switches and runs two fingers right on her skin until both hands meet at the fly of her shorts. He glances up at her face before he starts to unbutton them. She’s arching her hips up before she can even think about it. Jack smirks to himself as he pulls off her shorts, and she’d be more embarrassed about it if he didn’t look so good.
He pulls her shorts off very deliberately.
They have to shuffle weirdly. Jack gets off her knee and kneels between her legs. Connor lifts her legs and bends her knees, wiggling until her shorts are off. She plants her feet on either side of Jack and looks up awkwardly. He smiles at her, less smug this time, and runs his fingers along the inside of her thighs. Connor can feel herself getting goosebumps. It's not like this is the first time she and Jack have touched, or like it's really that sexy a move. But there’s intent this time; the feathery light touch on her thigh is the prelude to something.
Jack slides his hands around to grip her legs and hold them just open enough. He presses a kiss to the inside of her knee. It’s a soft kiss, and he closes his eyes as he does it. Then he turns his head and meets her eyes.
“I’m very curious what the great McDavid tastes like,” he says, looking her dead in the eyes.
“Oh yeah?” she says.
“Yeah,” Jack says, and kiss an inch further down her leg, “I bet you taste like..... gold medals.”
She snorts, and he kisses another inch further down her leg. It's still a light kiss, just enough pressure to be a tease.
“Maybe the Stanley Cup,” Jack continues. This time when he kisses her leg, it's open-mouthed, and just a little wetter.
“You’re an idiot,” says Connor.
“No no, I’ve got it now,” Jack says, and he plants another open-mouthed kiss further down her leg. This time he sucks just a little as he kisses her, and it's enough of a change in sensation that Connor gasps a tiny bit. She can feel him smile against her leg.
“You’re gonna taste like winning,” Jack says, and this time he bites her lightly.
“Shut up,” Connor says.
She considers moving away, but she doesn’t want to risk this ending. Jack laughs against her thigh, which just makes her skin tingle and brings back the goose bumps. He doesn’t pull his lips all the way off of her this time, just pulls back until they’re barely touching her leg to move down again. He’s halfway down her leg now, where her skin is the thinnest and most sensitive.
“Either way,” Jack says, “You’re gonna be wet for me.”
He teases her skin with his teeth lightly again, and Connor can’t hold back a groan. Jack’s smirk is back, she can feel it pressed against her skin. Connor stops trying so hard to look at him and lets her head fall back a little. Jack keeps pressing kisses against her leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps and tingles running just underneath her skin as he does. He moves his thumb where it rests on her other leg before he pulls his mouth back a little.
“I bet you’re wet already,” he breathes against her skin.
He runs his fingers down the leg he’s not kissing, and brushes his fingers over her underwear. She can’t help moaning at the contact, and he presses a little harder. He kisses her leg and presses again, before he pulls his hand away.
“Hey,” says Connor.
“Hey what?” says Jack against her leg, and keeps kissing her without putting his hand back.
He’s almost at the top of her thighs, almost at the edge of her panties.
“Hurry up, that’s what,” Connor says, almost whining.
Jack drags his hand down, letting his nails scrape against the outside of her leg for a minute. He slides his hand up her hip, under the lacy elastic of her underwear. He presses one more kiss half on the crease of her hip, half on her underwear. He’s looking up through his lashes, and she meets his eyes. He pulls back to say something, and she feels his breath, again.
“You are so impatient,” he says, and pushes himself back up to kiss the inside of her other knee.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Connor says.
“What on earth do you mean?” Jack says, and starts to kiss a line down the other leg.
“What are you doing?” Connor moans, and Jack smiles against her leg.
“It’s called foreplay, McDavid,” Jack says, his fingers tapping a rhythm on her hip.
Connor groans out of frustration, and puts her head back on the bed. Jack has a shit-eating grin on his face, she can feel it pressed into her leg, but he’s moving down this leg faster than the other, sucking a little harder. He gets to the crease of her hip and slides his hand up her thigh and under the lace of her underwear on the other side.
“Are you unhappy with my foreplay skills?” he says, and he’s so close to her pussy that she can feel the heat of his breath against her even through her underwear. “Should I start again?”
“Don’t you dare,” Connor says.
She’s breathing heavily and there are tiny shudders running through her. There’s no way he doesn’t know she’s turned on. And if there was, as soon as he gets her underwear off he’s going to see how wet she is in anticipation. See, and hopefully feel and taste too, she thinks.
Jack turns his hands to pull her underwear down. He has to pull back,all the way up onto his knees to pull her underwear off. She doesn’t have a great view, but his jeans look like they’re tented. That’s a nice thought. Jack throws her underwear somewhere off the bed, which she doesn’t really appreciate, but he’s moving before she has time to say anything.
This time, he lies flat on his stomach. He sits up on his elbows, and moves his big palms over her hips. He makes eye contact with her as he sinks his head down, and presses a kiss against her clit. He nods his head for a second, running his lips up and down over her clit. Then, Connor feels his mouth open against her and his tongue lick a long strip. At the same time, Jack’s eyes slide closed slowly. He looks like he’s the one in ecstasy, and that feels almost as erotic as the slide of his tongue. Connor falls back on to the bed and closes her eyes.
She doesn’t bother to stop herself from gasping, which she realizes is a good thing when Jack takes her loudest gasp as the sign that it is and latches on to her clit. He sucks almost too hard for a second and Connor says “oh” out loud. Jack pulls off a little, kisses her clitin apology, and starts to use the tip of his tongue to trace lines back and forth.
At first it feels a little random, the lines, but they feel so good. She’s curling and uncurling her toes, her legs twitching next to Jack’s ears. Her breath is definitely erratic. The back and forth of Jack’s tongue is just enough pressure, just quick enough, to drive her crazy. She arches almost involuntarily, trying to press closer to Jack’s face and get more. She can’t help the sounds she’s making either, little oohs and ahs and half moans. She can feel him smile against her cunt and he pulls back a little to talk to her.
“I think I can take this as a compliment, right?” Jack says.
“Shut up,” Connor says, dragging out the words.
She reaches down to tangle her hand in Jack’s hair and pull his mouth back.
“Someone’s an eager beaver,” Jack says, then starts laughing. “Or maybe someone’s beaver is eager?”
“Oh my god,” Connor says, and Jack closes his mouth around her clit and hums.
Connor moans so loud it’s almost a scream. It feels so good. She puts her legs over Jack’s shoulders, and pulls his hair, just trying to keep him there and keep his mouth on her clit. Jack’s hands tighten around her hips, and he lets the hand she’s got in his hair guide him closer. He moves his tongue back and forth across her clit, faster this time. It's exactly what she needs. She can feel herself getting wetter, and all the muscles in her legs start to tense up.
“Oh my god, Jack,” she moans.
Jack pulls his mouth away, until just the very tip of his top lip is brushing against her. He hovers there, just breathing. The hot puffs of breath are driving her crazy. She’s already so close, and the heat is only adding to it, but there’s no friction. She needs something, anything, she’s aching for something.
“What the fuck?” Connor says.
Jack’s lip brushes against her again, but he doesn’t make a move to do anything else.
“Don’t leave me hanging man, please,” she says, trying to tighten her legs. He doesn’t move.
“Say my name again,” Jack says.
His voice is rough and he’s breathing heavily. He sounds like an orgasm would feel like, Connor thinks nonsensically, if she could just get there.
“Jack,” she says, and it comes out as a cross between a groan and a plea.
He closes his lips around her clit and sucks.
“Jack,” she says again, and this time it's a desperate moan.
He moves his tongue back and forth across her clit. She feels her thighs seize up first, and she tightens her legs across Jack’s shoulders. Her hips start moving just a little, just pulsing closer to his mouth. She cums with her head thrown back and her legs locked. Jack doesn’t stop sucking until her legs have gone limp and fallen away from his head. He switches to broad swipes of his tongue, and she realizes he’s trying to taste her. She moans a little at the thought, but she has to twist away.
Jack kisses the top of her thigh as he pulls back. He props himself up on his elbows, but rests his forehead on her hip. He’s still breathing heavily, and from the way the bed is shaking, Connor thinks that he might be grinding against it. The silence starts to stretch, and feel a little awkward. She wants to say something but she can’t think of what. Instead she puts her hand back in Jack’s hair and runs her fingers through it.
After a second, he kneels up again. He’s definitely hard, cock tucked up to the left.
“Oh,” says Connor.
It's not like she’s unaware of the tweets from people who want to see her out of her pads, or the rumors that this teammate or the other would like to fuck her. But actually seeing Jack hard, his lips still wet from her cunt, that’s a different feeling entirely.
“Oh?” says Jack back to her. He’s doing a decent job sounding teasing, but he’s clearly keyed up.
“Can I see?” she asks. She’s not sure if that’s a weird question. But it's honest; she wants to see Jack hard, maybe touch him too.
Jack meets her eyes for a second, then reaches down. He rubs himself through his jeans, then pops the button and unzips his pants. He reaches into his briefs and pumps his cock a few times. Connor balls the sheets up in her fist and waits. Jack pulls his briefs and jeans down at the same time, the cut of his hips coming into view before his cock. It bounces a little against his stomach as Jack pushes his jeans down to his knees. He pulls his shirt off too, then runs the tips of his fingers across his cock.
“Is that because of me?” Connor regrets asking as soon as it’s out of her mouth.
“Duh, Connor, who else would it be for?” Jack asks. He’s still trying to sound teasing, but his breath is getting shorter.
“Can I touch you?” Connor asks again.
Jack makes a sound.
“Yeah,” he says, and his breath catches on the word.
Connor sits up and brings a hand to wrap around Jack’s cock. She’s never really touched a guy like this before. She takes in the velvety smooth feeling, the warmth, and runs her thumb over the tip. Jack makes a sound above her head, and she looks up. He’s flushed and biting his lip. It probably still tastes like her cum. He brings a hand up and lays it on top of hers. He uses her hand to jerk himself off for a second. She runs her thumb over the tip again to feel the drop of precum. Jack moans and squeezes both their hands around the base of his dick. He keeps her still for a second to take a shaky breath.
“Can we try something else?” Jack asks.
“What do you mean?” Connor says, still fascinated by the weight in her hand.
“Are you up to go again?” Jack says, then before she can answer, “Can I fuck you? I- please?”
Connor pauses for a moment.
“Yeah,” she says. “You can.”
Jack takes his hand off of hers and she lets go of his cock as he gets off the bed. He pushes his pants all the way to the ground, then bends down. He stands back up with his wallet in his hand, and after a second pulls out a condom.
“Really?” says Connor, even though she’s silently thankful that he has one because she doesn’t.
“I was a boy scout,” says Jack, “You guys probably call it moose cubs or something, but I’m sure you’re familiar with being prepared.”
Jack puts the condom between his teeth and gets back up on the bed. Connor starts to lie back down, but he catches her arm and keeps her upright. Then, he slides his hands up against her ribs. It feels like his palms are leaving a trail of tingly heat in their wake, all the way up until he pulls her shirt over her head. He throws that over the side of the bed too, and Connor knows that she’s going to have to struggle to find her clothes when it's time to go. But she’s distracted from that when Jack runs just the tips of his fingers down her neck and right next to her bra straps. The goose bumps are back, and she feels the ache between her legs switch from ‘just had a good orgasm’ back to ‘horny.’ Jack cups both her breasts over her bra and squeezes just once before he reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. She helps him pull it off, and he reaches back up to cup one breast again.
Then he pushes her shoulders, lightly, just enough to make her lie back down on the bed. He pulls the condom out of his mouth and starts to tear it open.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she says.
“Good,” he says, “I want to know if you feel as good as you taste.”
Connor can feel heat building between her legs. She’s looking forward to feeling Jack inside of her, of having skin on skin contact. The anticipation feels good. Jack finishes rolling the condom on and presses his fingers against her clit for a second, rubbing in a little circle. Connor moans a little bit, and spreads her legs. Jack squeezes the base of his dick for a second before he lines himself up and presses in.
“Oh,” says Connor in surprise.
Jack shifts and leans down to plant his hand next to her shoulder and hold himself up with it.
“Oh,” says Connor, this time in arousal.
Jack keeps pressing in slowly until she can feel him flush against her. She tilts her hips experimentally. Jack groans.
“Fuck,” he drawls out.
Jack puts his other hand on the bed on her other side, framing her underneath him. He hovers above her for a second, and Connor shifts her hips again to bear down. Jack drops from his hands to his elbows, resting on top of her. He lets his head hang, almost low enough to brush against her breasts. He pulls back and thrusts back in, and it startles a noise out of Connor. Jack chuckles a little, but he’s out of breath. He starts to thrust a little faster, and she can feel his legs shaking with the effort to keep a rhythm.
“So?” Connor says. She tries to mimic his teasing tone from earlier, but even she can tell she’s too breathy and keyed up to really have it right.
“So what?” asks Jack, his hips stuttering a little as he answers.
“Do I feel--” Connor loses the thought for a second, “Do I feel as good as I taste?”
Jack laughs a little and plants a kiss on her chest. He tilts his head up, with another kiss or two on her neck, before he bites her ear lobe. She gasps again.
“You do,” Jack says, and he sounds strained.
His next thrust is harder and quicker, the angle pressing against her just right. She’s pretty sure she’s fingered her G spot before, but there’s no question now. The friction of Jack’s cock going back and forth feels perfect. She shifts her hips again, arches her whole back, which gets her the added benefit of more skin on skin contact. Jack moans and runs one hand up and down her ribs. She wraps her leg around him, and he bites her ear again. She moans and Jack keeps up the quick, shallow thrusts.
“A word of advice,” Jack says, completely out of breath, “Vibrators don’t feel this good, even when you remember the batteries.”
“You are such a dick,” Connor moans and half-heartedly scratches his back.
“You like it,” Jack says, punctuating it with a thrust.
Connor gasps, and Jack presses his face into her neck. He pants against her for a second, then presses a kiss just under her jaw. She tilts her head back, and wraps the leg she has around him tighter. Jack takes the hint and keeps the rhythm exactly as she needs it; fast and shallow.
“Yes,” Connor can’t help saying, “Yes yes yes.”
Jack lets out what might have been a laugh. Connor finds that she can’t stop talking.
“Yes, yes, oh god Jack, yes,” she moans.
Jack presses his face into her neck and groans. He fucks into her one last time. She can feel the shudder that runs through him and the way that he starts breathing heavily. Jack coming in her feels way hotter than the last time Connor had sex. Maybe it's because he’s been so teasing and together before this. Feeling his legs shake while he whispers “oh god” into the hinge of her jaw feels like proof that he’s just as into this as she is. Connor can’t help but dig her nails into Jack’s back and whine as he starts to pull out. He pokes her leg until she lets its fall away from his waist and slides off the bed.
“Connor, calm down, I’m going to get you back,” Jack says, from where he’s tying off the condom, “Are you this keyed up all the time? You really need to get laid more.”
“I thought orgasms were supposed to mellow you out, why are you still such a dick?” Connor says.
“I think we just established that you like dick,” Jack says, and crawls back on top of her.
He shifts his weight to his left arm, and reaches his right hand down between Connor’s legs. She’s feeling more sensitive, more responsive, and partially jumps when Jack rubs against her clit. He laughs against her neck.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” says Connor, squirming.
Jack slips the tips of his fingers into her cunt, playing with the wetness there and letting the rest of his fingers brush against her clit.
“I didn’t think you’d be so…” Jack starts to say, pulling his fingers back to rub circles against her.
“So... what?” Connor asks, and she truly has no idea what he’s going to say. She honestly might not even care, as long as he keeps moving his fingers like that.
“I don’t know,” Jack says, circling his fingers quicker. “So good. So wet.”
Connor’s hips twitch of their own accord, trying to get his fingers closer. She feels her breath shorten, and her legs tighten, but it still takes her by surprise when she cums for a second time. It feels a little more like relief this time, and she feels the shudders go through her legs for longer. Jack moves his fingers oh so lightly up and down against her cunt, avoiding her clit, until she arched her back and made a humming sound like a cat. Then he flops down next to her on his side. She doesn’t move much from her spread eagle position, but she turns her head and rests one arm on her stomach.
Jack slowly drags the three fingers away from her cunt and raises them up to his mouth. They’re shiny, and for a second Connor’s embarrassed. Then Jack puts his ring finger in his mouth and sucks. Connor feels her eyes go wide.
“Oh,” she says.
Jack smiles around his finger and pulls it out slowly.
“What’s with the surprise? Did you already forget that I ate you out like ten minutes ago? I’m hurt, Connor.”
“I didn’t forget,” says Connor, “I just didn’t think you’d do that.”
“Why not?” Jack eyes are practically sparkling. He puts his first two fingers, still sticky, against her bottom lip. “You don’t quite taste like the Stanley Cup, but not bad.”
“How would you know?” Connor says, but she lets Jack press both fingers into her mouth.
She closes her lips after his second knuckle and sucks. Then she licks all the way up, chasing the taste. She honestly kind of expected it to taste like fish, she’s been listening to locker room jokes for so long. It doesn’t, it tastes tangy and smooth and not bad at all really. She sucks again.
“Fuck you,” says Jack. He pulls his fingers out of her mouth.
“What?” she says.
“You’re making me think about getting my dick sucked,” Jack says.
He wraps his hand around the back of her neck, his spit damp fingers in her hair. She’s kind of pissed about it, but before she can say anything he’s tilted her neck back and pulled her in for a kiss.
It's a good fucking kiss. It starts deep, both of them parting their lips at the same time. Jack pulls back to bite her bottom lip, then kiss it softly, then bite it again. Connor dishes back, sucking on Jack’s lip for a second and sliding her tongue across his tongue. It takes her a minute to realize that this is the first time they kissed. It feels worth the wait, as sappy as that sounds even in Connor’s head. It's a no pressure kiss, it's not supposed to lead to anything. And Jack can’t be judging the way she kisses, since they’ve already fucked. Jack pulls off her mouth to kiss under her jaw a few times, then bites her earlobe again. Connor never thought that would be a turn-on for her, yet here’s Jack to prove her wrong. He pulls back to lie back down on the pillow and Connor follows suit. Jack’s thumb is still stroking the back of her neck. They lay there in silence for a second. It's not weird, somehow, despite the fact that they’re staring each other directly in the face, despite the way they’ve gone from serious rivals to sex in just under an hour.
“We have to do more media stuff tomorrow morning,” Jack says. “And I need to shower. So I think I’m going to go back to my room.”
“OK,” says Connor, and she doesn’t know why that stings a tiny bit. It's not like Jack could have stayed, not when all manner of NHL PR people are going to be looking for them in the morning. Not to mention their parents.
Jack pulls away from her and rolls of the bed. He gets dressed mostly in silence.
“Hey,” says Connor, because she wants to say something, “Can you hand me my shirt? You know, the one you threw?”
Jack gets her shirt for her, looking unfairly smug. Connor pulls it back on, and stands up to pull on her PJ pants as well. She walks Jack to the door, because that seems like the right thing to do. Except when they get to the little hallway entrance, they both turn to look at each other. Connor has no idea what to say. She stares at Jack, and he stares back. After a second, he steps closer to her. Agonizingly slowly, he leans in and kisses her again. This one is closed-mouthed, and sweet, and it almost feels hopeful. It's the kind of kiss you give after a first date, not after you've slept together. Not unless you want to do it again. Jack pulls back from the kiss.
“Don’t sleep with Dylan Strome, OK?” he says, and for once his tone isn’t a teasing one.
“I won’t,” Connor says.
“OK,” says Jack, “Good.”
He starts to leave.
“I’ll, ah,” Connor says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And during the season. Right?”
“If you want,” Jack says.
“I would,” Connor says, because it's true. She would like to see him again, particularly if he’s naked or between her legs.
Jack nods and steps out the door. Before he shuts it, he turns back around and sucks on the fingers on his right hand one by one. He raises his eyebrows at her.
It actually makes Connor weak in the knees, so she closes the door in his face. But not fast enough to miss hearing him laugh.
She doesn’t know where or how Jack got her address, but two weeks after the draft he mails her AA batteries.