“Your skating will improve with time,” she assured me. “You are so talented when it comes to physical ability. It might not happen this season, but the Tusks will win a game.”

  I had my doubts about that. Half the team wasn’t committed to the contest, and the other half of us lacked any skill. The human children who’d played on the ice during the first intermission were better at hockey than we were.

  But I’d unburdened on Jordan enough for one evening.

  “How is your dental business going?” I asked. “Do you have any new werewolf or vampire clients?”

  “I do!” Jordan’s voice raised in pitch. “No vampire clients besides the one woman who is coming in next month for an evaluation, but in the last two days I’ve had six appointments scheduled for werewolves— that’s in addition to my friend Stephanie. And my new drill came in. Your implant should arrive by the time you’re back in town, so we can get your new teeth installed whenever your schedule allows.”

  I grunted, less interested in my replacement teeth than seeing Jordan again. And I wasn’t particularly excited about the mention of a drill. While Jordan’s Instagram photos were interesting and filled me with admiration for her skill, passion, and intellect, they also made me a little nervous about this procedure.

  “I will always make time for you,” I promised. Even if that involved her drilling a hole through my jawbone.

  “You’ll be back when? Next week?”

  I counted the games. “Yes, next Friday, but we have a home game the following day.” Which sucked. I really wanted to spend the whole weekend with Jordan, especially after not having seen her for so long.

  If hockey could somehow be a career for me, one that I could excel at and feel a sense of satisfaction performing, it would involve long weeks, or even months, away from Jordan. But what was the alternative? Even if she’d accepted the idea of returning home with me as my bride, I would face the same painful separation resuming my Guardian duties. Even more so since Guardians did not have off-season breaks like hockey players.

  “I understand,” she said softly. “I miss you, but I would never want you to give up something that adds meaning to your life. Just as I need my career, I know you need something outside of our relationship. If that’s hockey, then I’ll cheer you on, attend every game I can, and welcome you home with all my heart.”

  My own heart tightened at that.

  “The girls and I are getting together to watch tomorrow,” she added. “Tusks against the Penguins in Pittsburgh. Go Orcs!”

  I grunted, hoping that we made her proud—that I made her proud.

  “Can I ask you a favor?” Her voice hitched, uncertain and nervous.

  “Anything.” My own voice was husky and full of promise. Anything. And I meant it.

  “Um…I told my parents about us…and they are planning to go to your game in Buffalo. I wondered if…if you could…I mean, if it’s too much trouble…”

  It took me that whole stumbling speech to realize what she was trying to ask.

  “How many tickets would they like? Do they want to bring friends? Maybe your brother and his family?” I grimaced, realizing something. “The seats will be behind our bench, not the Saber-enemies’ one.”

  She laughed. “That’s perfect. Trust me, they have completely changed allegiance. The moment I told them we were dating, they became rabid Tusks fans. Expect some embarrassing displays of support.”

  I smiled, thrilled that her family was ready to cheer for me and my terrible team, that they had welcomed me into the family sight unseen, just because their daughter loved me. If only my father could meet them.

  If only my mother could have met them.

  “Just let me know how many tickets you need, and I will arrange for them.” We were allocated a certain number of tickets each game for friends and family, but they always went unclaimed since none of us had friends or family here. Maybe we should arrange for those tickets to go to one of our special interest areas. Children. Elderly. Homeless. Animals from the shelter.

  Although, I’d never seen animals at any of our games. Were they not allowed? Either way, it might be interesting to have a bunch of dogs and cats behind our bench as we played.

  “Thank you, Ozar. They’re so excited to see you play.”

  I winced, knowing Jordan’s parents would be watching yet another game that we would lose. But I’d make sure we did our best. And I appreciated their support.

  “Can I ask a favor in return?” I hadn’t meant to bring this up on our first phone call, but something had clicked the moment she’d texted back, and we were fully connected again, as if the disagreement two days ago had never happened.

  “Anything.”

  It was such a weird ask, but I powered on. “Can you send me a cannoli?”

  She burst out laughing. “I’ve created a monster, a cannoli addict. Just one? How about a dozen? I want to make sure I’m feeding your cannoli cravings. And should I send some milk as well?”

  Milk. How I missed the amazing milk deliveries. The stuff they had at the hotels just wasn’t the same.

  “I want to award our best player a cannoli at the end of each game.” I hesitated. “But I would like one for myself as well.”

  “Two, because you’re the best player,” she purred.

  That low, husky voice shot right through me, hardening my hand-axe.

  “Two for me, and one for the second-best player,” I replied.

  “Text me the address of your hotels and I’ll overnight freshly made cannoli the day before each game. A dozen, because it’s important for my orc to have all of his needs met.”

  Yep. Hard as iron.

  “My needs right now are going unmet.” And it was downright painful.

  Jordan’s soft laugh added to my agony. “Where are you now? Somewhere private?”

  “In the bathroom standing in the tub.”

  “I hear the water running.”

  Her voice was so low and sexy. It was taking my breath away. “Eng is sleeping in the next room,” I told her, wondering where she was going with this. “I turned the tub water on so he wouldn’t hear.”

  “So…you’re naked in the shower?”

  I frowned. “No. I am standing in the shower but not naked.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  I glanced down at my tented-out shorts. “Basketball shorts.”

  “No underwear?”

  By all the mountain gods, her voice was driving me to the edge of insanity.

  “No. Just the shorts.”

  “You need to take them off,” she purred.

  I’d never removed an item of clothing so fast in my life.

  “Close your eyes,” she continued. “Reach down and gently grasp your hand-axe. Imagine it’s my hand touching you, stroking you.”

  I did as she said, my breath hitching.

  “I’m touching myself too, and imagining it’s you. Your fingers brushing the inside of my thighs, dipping into the wetness between my legs, teasing my clit.”

  I groaned, my hand tightening on my hand-axe.

  “But I’m in charge tonight, so I push your hand away and kneel down in front of you. My hand is sliding up your cock as I lean forward. My breath is warm on your skin. I hesitate just a moment, looking up at you as I kiss the tip of your cock. My tongue flicks along the slit, tasting the sweet pearlescent bead there, a treasure, just for me.”

  Agony. Downright agony. My hand-axe leaked, and I ran my fingers along the lower ridge, actually feeling her tongue and her mouth, as if she were right here with me.

  “I’m licking, sucking at the skin of your hand-axe gently with my lips, working my way up and down your glorious length. And when I’ve made my way back to the head of your cock, I open wide and take all of you into my mouth.”

  “Mountain Gods! Jordan!” My breathing was rough and ragged. It was all I could do not to spill my seed right then, but I gripped my hand-axe tight and tried to hold back.

  “I’m sucking as I slide you out of my mouth, only to sink you in again so deep you hit the back of my throat. My one hand grips your thigh and the other is on your ass, steading myself as I speed up my rhythm. You’re so hard. I want to make you come. I want you to spill your hot seed down my throat. Then I’ll lick you clean.”

  I could take no more. With a shout that I’m sure woke Eng as well as the hotel guests on either side of us, I surrendered to my release.

  When my mind stopped spinning, I realized that my legs were wobbly, and I was bracing myself against a strong metal bar along the side wall of the shower. Mountain Gods, this was the sexiest masturbation I’d ever experienced. Maybe weeks and months away from Jordan wouldn’t be so lonely if we could do this every few nights.

  Except I’d need to live here, since we didn’t have cell phones back home and communication spells weren’t exactly ideal for long-distance sex. One more thing I liked very much about Jordan’s world.

  “You are amazing,” I told her.

  “I miss you.” Jordan’s voice held a note of smugness, as if she knew exactly how she’d ravished me tonight.

  “Grumem-esch-ach metanekan schlonakanap-tsknt,” I told her, meaning every word.

  Chapter 36

  Jordan

  My FedEx bill was going to be insane. I’d looked up the Tusks’ game schedule, called the main office to beg the address to their hotels, explaining that I was Ozar’s girlfriend and wanted to send him some care packages. Then I’d gone to town on the purchases, shipping the orc cannolis, cheesecakes, gourmet chocolates, and even a half-gallon of his favorite farm-fresh milk.

  We talked every morning, just before my office opened for the day and after he and his team had finished their grueling run-and-lift routine. We talked every night after he’d returned to the hotel room from the game. There had been no more lucky scores for the Tusks, but they were at least narrowing the gap between their zero and the winning score. And the fights! No matter how the other team tried, eventually the orcs would needle them into action. As the team’s skating improved, so did their ability to slam the opposing team against the glass or cut them off at the goal.

  Ozar and I celebrated the improvements, mourned the losses, then went on to have epic phone sex. It was our nightly routine, and I looked forward to it.

  Each morning, I started the day on a high after our call. Even the most difficult procedure seemed easy. I was more focused, cheerful, happy. Ozar made me a better me. Just hearing his voice energized me and inspired me to work even harder for my patients.

  But the games… Ozar seemed more optimistic than he’d been during that first call from Ohio, but I knew these losses and shut outs were taking a toll on him. The Tusks needed a coach, a trainer, marketing campaigns, and hype. They needed an owner who truly gave a shit about the team improving and winning instead of treating them like a circus sideshow.

  And Ozar needed some sort of recognition for the work he was putting in trying to pull this team together.

  I’d been keeping an eye on the animal shelter site, and by Tuesday I couldn’t wait any longer. I went in and adopted Coal after setting up a spot for him in my master bathroom.

  As expected, Judy had a shitfit. The moment I walked in with the little cardboard box holding the small black cat, Judy’s eyes bugged out, her back arched, and the deepest yowly-growl I’d ever heard emanated from her chest.

  Coal meowed plaintively from inside the box, but Judy was not about to be won over, so I took Ozar’s cat up to my bathroom and introduced him to his temporary space. He explored the area with curiosity, taking immediate advantage of the litter box. After watching him play in the fountain water bowl, I gave him some kibble and left him to enjoy the space. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a whole lot bigger and had more amenities than his cage at the shelter. Plus, I needed to give Judy time to get used to our new friend.

  Judy was pacing outside the master bathroom door when I emerged. She’d already pooped in the middle of my bedroom floor.

  “I know, I know.” I picked her up and carried her downstairs. “Change is hard, but Ozar wants a cat of his own. I want to marry him, so you’re going to need to get used to Coal living with us. He’s a sweet cat. You don’t have to love him, but you will have to tolerate him.”

  Judy made what I can only describe as a grumpy harrumph. Trying to make amends, I let her have some grilled chicken from the fridge while I cleaned up her mess. Then I sat down to watch the Tusks play against Pittsburgh.

  Knowing it would be a few hours before Ozar finished up and made it back to the hotel for our nightly call, I went upstairs after the game to check on Coal. The cat had managed to pull down my towels and scatter them across the room. I found him curled up in one of the sinks instead of the comfy bed I’d bought for him. Blinking his bright eyes up at me, he stretched and yawned, then strolled across the counter with a confident meow.

  I liked this cat. It would have been normal for Coal to be anxious his first night in a strange home, especially with a hostile feline roommate, but the little black cat had been nonplused by the whole situation. He bumped his head against my hand and purred as I scratched him behind the ears.

  “It won’t be long before you have the run of the house,” I told him. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to stay out of Judy’s way and calmly ride out her tantrums. And when Ozar comes back, you’ll be at his house most of the time. Until you both move in, that is. It’ll give Judy some time to get used to you before you’re here for good.”

  The cat kept purring. I loved on him as long as I could, then filled his food bowl and left, ready for Ozar to call.

  On the way downstairs, I encountered another turd. And on the bottom step, a coughed-up hair ball. It was going to be a long transition, but Coal was worth it.

  Ozar was worth it.

  Chapter 37

  Ozar

  Our team’s progress was incremental, but it was still progress.

  The orcs had struggled during our morning workout along Pittsburgh’s hilly streets, but no one grumbled, and everyone managed to keep their breakfasts inside their stomachs. Practice that afternoon had gone about the same. We worked on speed, turns, skating backward, then practiced with the puck. That was about all I knew. If we improved past those things, I would be at a loss. We needed a coach. We needed a trainer who could tailor our workouts. Without those things, I was pretty sure we’d soon hit our ceiling in terms of skill and ability. We also needed someone who actually knew the rules of the game, although Bwat was reading a book called Hockey for Fools. It was a surprisingly appropriate title for us.

  We lost at Pittsburgh. We lost at Philadelphia. We lost at New Jersey. And we didn’t score a goal since that accidental one in Ohio. But the sharp bite of humiliation had diminished each game. We were skating better. And the teams we faced often lost the puck when they saw us barreling down on them. They’d quickly regain it, but I liked knowing they were afraid of us and the hurt we could deliver if we slammed them up against the glass.

  Tuesday, we arrived at Buffalo, where we had a day to rest and recover before our game against their team. I was both anxious and excited for our final game before we returned to Baltimore. Only a few more days until I saw Jordan again, but only a few more days before we had to discuss the looming obstacle that blocked the path to our happiness. And this game…. Buffalo was Jordan’s hometown, and I was nervous to be playing here—especially with her family watching.

  There were VIP tickets waiting for her parents, her brother and sister-in-law, two sets of aunts and uncles, and three cousins. Jordan’s relatives would be occupying most of the seats behind our bench, and it made me sweat to think of how they might judge our team, and judge me.

  Orcs made their own decisions about marriage, but everyone valued their parents’ input. Parents knew us best, and these humans who would be watching tonight knew Jordan far more than I did. They loved her. And if they thought I might not be able to provide her the love and support she needed as my wife, their opinion would carry weight.

  Summoning every bit of courage, I left a note with their tickets, asking them to meet the team after the game and giving them passes to the area outside the locker room, inside where even the press was allowed.

  While we were supposed to rest Tuesday, my nervous energy wouldn’t allow for that. Which meant that I didn’t let the team rest, either. Getting off the bus, I barked at the orcs to meet me in the lobby of the hotel in an hour, dressed and ready for a workout. Hearing the chorus of groans, I threatened anyone who was late with an extra mile run. Yes, it wasn’t all that easy sleeping on the transportation beast, and the team could use some extra shuteye, but the hours of sitting as we rode from New Jersey wouldn’t be helped by falling onto the hotel’s furless beds and lying there until tomorrow morning either. We’d complete the workout I’d put together. The guys could shower and sleep for a few hours, then I’d make them get up again to practice on the ice until dinner time.

  For the first time, I didn’t need to harass anyone or personally bang on their doors when it came time to meet for our workout. The humans followed us or cheered along our running route, as they had since Ohio. Their numbers had been steadily increasing, too. I’d attributed it to the larger population in certain cities, but today I realized that our routine had attracted an unexpected fan following. I overheard humans on their phones, telling others of our route. Humans took pictures, shouted our names, even turned around to do something that Bwat called “a selfie” with us in the background.

  It was cold enough in Buffalo for us to be wearing shirts, but the humans in the city entreated us to undress, even though they were bundled up as if they were summiting Gronalek Mountain. I ignored them, but a few of the younger orcs obliged, tossing their shirts into the crowd and flexing for pictures.

  I rolled my eyes, but knew I’d do the same if Jordan had asked with that appreciative glint in her eyes. We were all here to find brides to take home. Who was I to fault these orcs in their efforts to attract suitable marriage partners?