Hat Trick With The Hockey Team In Lockdown: A WhyChoose Contemporary Interracial Sports Romance (Love Under Lockdown Book 14) by Charlotte Storm

Author:Charlotte Storm [Storm, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wylde Storm Publishing
Published: 2020-07-04T16:00:00+00:00

4

The quick shower I take does little to calm the tension riding me harder than a goon on a breakaway play. The private time I have with my fingers and my clit works only long enough for me to get dressed for my run.

Layers are the trick to running in the cold. After tying my shoes and getting a general layout of the property from Cam, I hit the driveway and follow it around behind the property. With music blasting through my earbuds and the cold air filling my lungs, it isn’t long before I find my rhythm.

“So, Dad,” I say, my lips forming the words without sound. Only my mind speaks to him. “I was wondering how much of a slut I’d be if I slept with all three of them.”

Typically, I don’t talk to my dad about sex. Even if it is just in my brain. But drastic times and all...

“I know. I’m a strong, independent woman. And that word is only meant to tear down my self-image. Negate my sexuality. I’m empowered. I’m an adult. I’m allowed to want what I want.”

Somehow, I’m not sure that’d be his answer if he were here.

“But is that normal? To want three men? How do I have them without destroying my career? Their friendship?”

“Ugh!” My frustrated growl rips through the air, my breath white. I tear out my earbuds and stop running. This isn’t helping.

Grabbing my phone from my side pocket—gotta love workout pants with pockets—I press my mother’s icon and wait for her to answer. “Hello, Dee,” she says, her voice weak. She always sounds like that anymore. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I answer, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

“You’re breathing hard.”

I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “Yeah, just out for a run and wanted to check up on you.”

“Ah.” The line stays quiet for a few moments. I hate it when she does that. When she knows this isn’t about her, it’s about me. “Those boys treating you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound as hesitant as I feel. “Better than okay, really. You should see my room. And the bathroom! There’s so much space I could lie down on the countertop and still have room for all of your medications.”

The smile fades from my face. I’m such an asshole.

“Sorry, Mom. That’s not what I—”

“I’m fine, Dee. Really.” She holds the phone away as she coughs.

“Mom?” Now I’m panicked. Coughing is one of the symptoms of the virus.

“Calm down,” she scolds as if I’m a hyperactive child who’s had too much sugar. “I’m fine. Water went down the wrong way, is all. Thank you for the grocery delivery, by the way.”

She’s trying to change the subject. I let her.

“Grocery delivery?” I ask, not sure what she means.

“One of those delivery service drivers dropped off enough food and supplies to get me through the week. You should know. You sent it.”

I don’t say anything. I didn’t send it. I haven’t had a chance to set it up yet.

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