I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195

Atlas POV

The puck hit the back of the net and the arena damn near exploded.

Third win in three weeks. I should’ve been riding that high all night, and yeah, part of me was. But the bigger part? The bigger part was somewhere in those screaming stands, and her name was Emery.

I skated back to center ice, jaw tight, eyes scanning the crowd out of habit even though I knew I’d never spot her from here. Still looked though. Always looked.

The guys swarmed me, chest bumps, helmet knocks, gloves flying, and I grinned through all of it, laughing when Adams nearly knocked me off my skates. But my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Her voice in my ear before the game.

“If you take the win home… you’ll get a special treat from me.”

I’d felt that whisper in my spine. Still felt it. My jaw flexed as I forced myself back into the moment, blowing out a slow breath through my nose.

Hold it together, man. Sixty more minutes.

***

After the quickest shower in the locker room, the sponsors and coach rolled in for their congratulation’s speech. I tried to pay attention…I really did, but all I could think about was Emery and her special threat. I’d sucked in a sharp breath right then, my dick getting hard at the mere thought of her “treat.” Now, standing here nodding along to whatever the coach was saying, that promise was all I could focus on. Damn, I had to get out of here.

Thankfully, they wrapped up quick. Riley suggested we all hit the usual spot for drinks to celebrate, but I shut that down in half a second.

“Nah, I’m good,” I said, already grabbing my bag. I’m pretty sure the guys knew exactly why I was dipping, they gave me those knowing smirks, but I didn’t give a single shit. All I cared about was getting home to my beautiful Em.

The elevator ride up to my penthouse felt like the longest thirty seconds of my life. I loosened my collar, rolled my neck, tried to shake off the restless energy buzzing under my skin. My leg bounced once in the elevator. Stopped.

The doors opened.

My legs gave out before my brain could even process the order. I dropped hard, the impact jolting through me as I knelt before her, hands loose at my sides, chest already heaving. My cock strained painfully against my slacks, throbbing with every heartbeat.

She looked down at me with that devastating mix of satisfaction and patience, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood just to keep from moaning like a desperate slut.

“There’s my good boy,” she purred, voice low and smoky. “Look at you… already so fucking hard for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

A broken groan tore from my throat.

She took her time, lifting one smooth leg and setting her bare foot on my thigh. The light pressure alone made my hips twitch. Then she dragged it upward…agonizingly slow…her toes sliding over the rigid outline of my cock through my pants. My entire body locked up. My jaw clenched so tight it ached. I could feel pre-cum leaking steadily into my boxers as her foot pressed firmly against my throbbing length.

If she kept giving me “treats” like this after every win, the team was gonna wonder why I suddenly started playing like my life depended on every single game.

Hell, they might even start calling me MVP.

…. Right before they figured out, I was showing up to practice walking funny because the woman I loved had turned my dick into her personal stress toy…honestly, I’m not complaining.