Summary: With the new coach, came a new program: The Road Wife initiative is brought to the Winnipeg Jets for the 2022-2023 season.
With only 2 games remaining in the regular season, the Jets only needed 1 point to clinch a playoff appearance for the first time since 2018. After a 3-1 regulation win against the Minnesota Wild, and fighting Ryan Reaves, Adam Lowry has one thing on his mind: Celebrating with the team's Road Wife.
Kinks & TW: hockey fight (ryan reaves vs adam lowry), mentions of blood, height difference, sex work, unprotected sex, locker room sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism (PLD watches briefly), adam has a large cock, marking (hickies), implied possible rule-breaking, implied relationships beyond that designated by their contract
Inspired By: The fight he had with Ryan Reaves, and this video posted by the Winnipeg Jets media team
Word Count: 2800+
Taglist: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl
27.1 seconds. That’s how much time had been remaining when Minnesota Wild coach had sent Ryan Reaves out onto the ice for what could have been the final face-off of the game. The game was already lost for the Wild, with the Winnipeg Jets leading 3-1, so they had nothing to lose and Reaves? He had been looking for a fight all game. So, Adam Lowry gave him one.
The fans in attendance had erupted as gloves were dropped, but it was all drowned out by the thump of Adam’s heart as it invaded his ears. It was all he could hear as Reaves’ fist collided with his arm as he struggled to get the reach he wanted. Reaves would manage a series of blows to the side of Adam’s helmet before Adam could get his own hit in. The momentum of his swing sent them both grappling as they met the ice. It was then the officials swooped in and the two fighters were separated.
The darkness of the tunnel greeted Adam as he left the roar of the fans and the ice behind him - and in that darkness, his teammates waited for him. Brendan Dillion was half-dressed, having been sent from the game the play before for a slashing penalty against Ryan Hartman. With him stood those who had been scratched for the game, Logan Stanley and Axel Jonsson-Fjaliby among them, were dressed in their game day best all waited to greet him with the celebrations.
Adam didn’t hear a single word as he walked through the group of them, and barely felt the pat of their hands against his chest, arms and back as his mind was still focused on the fight he had out on the ice. He could still only hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and feel it against every pulse point in his body. Sweat glides down the angles of his body, and he can feel it soaking into his equipment. His dominant hand is slick with blood as it oozes from a knuckle that had been busted as it had impacted the side of Reaves’ helmet and that is all Adam feels as he disappears into the locker room with one thing on his mind.
You.
You had already made your way back into the locker room before the fight had broken out. With only seconds left in the game, the room would need to be ready for when the players began to flood in. Things needed to be cleaned, packed and stored properly as come morning they would be hitting the road for Colorado, and as the only woman on the staff of equipment managers you found yourself putting in the extra work to make sure you got to keep your job in the competitive industry. You had been bent over the large travel trunk that carried the jerseys when you heard the commotion in the hall outside. You had paid no mind to it, the Jets were winning, the boys were celebrating, and you had expected the celebration to carry on in the locker room but all you could sense with seriousness as Adam walked into the room.
He walked with a certain swagger, and confidence, with his hair a sweaty mess as he held his helmet in one hand. Adam moved through the room, his eyes locked on his temporary stall as it was his destination and nothing was going to distract him from it. He slid his helmet into its place in his stall, and that was when his eyes lingered from their fixation on the wall. It was a subtle glance from the floor and up over the length of your body before his gaze was obscured by the removal of his jersey. It was with it off he froze, his back to the room, and let out a low, stern order:
“Everyone out!”
It was an order that had you hesitating for a moment, your brow quirking up as you cast him an unsure glance. He didn’t expect you all to clear out right before the game was ending, did he? Any second now the rest of the team would be coming in from the ice, and yet the rest of the staff - and some of the players - complied. A jersey slipped from your fingertips as you straightened up and began to move for the door. You had only managed to take two hesitant strides before the hold of a large hand wrapped effortlessly around your wrist. It was tight enough to hold you in place, to leave you feeling fragile, and draw your attention back. Adam had abandoned his place in front of his stall, taking a single stride to close the distance before reaching out to you.
“No, not you,” he muttered, his voice a little softer as he loosened his hold on your wrist, his touch slipped down over your palm as he drew you in.
“Adam-” his name left your lips in a semblance of a yelp that was rendered to silence with a single look that left your jaw slack and palms sweaty.
While you were on the team's staff of equipment managers, it wasn’t the only position you held. You were also the team’s road wife. It had been an ill-formed habit, and unwritten rule, that Adam always got to enjoy you after a fight, but this time wasn’t going to wait until he could get you back to his hotel room. No, he was going to take you right there in that room, and he hadn’t even taken off his equipment yet.
Adam drew you in close, each subtle step you took bringing you closer to his tower frame. Without skates, Adam already towered over you as he stood at a whopping six-foot-six, and in them, he stood closer to six-foot-nine. You had never felt smaller as your hands reached out to rest against the chest plate of his shoulder pad carefully. It was damp beneath your touch, not that you minded, nor did your touch get to linger long as when you were close enough Adam was gripping your waist and hoisting you up from the floor in a single effortless motion.
Everything that happened next came from need and instinct.
Your legs wrapped around him just above the bulky waistline of his hockey pants, and his large hands began to travel up over the expanse of your back. It was his broad and desperate touch that supported you as Adam carried you away from the center of the room, and towards a table that rested at its edge. It was cluttered with refreshments that had been provided by the Wild organization for the players to enjoy between periods, but not it was all an inconvenience and in the way. With a single swipe of his arm, he cleared a spot on the table for your ass and sent it all to the floor.
The clamour and mess were all lost on him as his mouth made its descent down onto your lips in a hungry kiss that wasted no time on being tender and coy. You could feel the roughness of his beard against your flesh, and with the careful rise of his hand to his jaw to guide your lips open you could taste him on your tongue. The flavours of his tongue alone, as it stroked along your own, was enough to leave you mewling. It sent a shiver right through to your core as your hands were desperate to seek out the drawstrings of his hockey pants. You worked blindly, your fingers merely hooking on the strings as Adam’s second hand came to join the other in cupping your face and deepening the kiss between you both.
Your mind was left spinning, your chest heaving as you took in each desperate breath as you were left wanting more of him - but he was confined from you in his layers of equipment that you struggled to remove. “Adam,” his name was a mere breath against his lips as your hands found his chest and gave it a careful shove. He was a big man, so the shove barely phased him but it gave you enough room to begin to fight the layers from his body. You started with his shoulder pads that would join the mess on the floor - and then Adam was leaning back in, his mouth going to your neck as you loosened his hockey pants. You could barely focus on the knot that was there as your fingers worked desperately to work in free as his hot breath washed over your neck. As his lips moved sloppily, and his teeth grazed over your collarbone. He marked up your neck with great impatience all the while slowing you down, but soon his pants had been worked free and slipped down to rest around his ankles.
It was at that moment, and only at that moment, you hated hockey players for just how much equipment they wore as beneath it all Adam was wearing his tight compression wear. Post-game it was like a second skin and it was a struggle to remove with how sweaty he had become during sixty minutes of game time. Yet, you made quick work of his shirt before working his pants down just low enough to work his eager cock free.
With Adam free of his confines, your hands were quick to abandon your cheeks and found the zipper of your team-branded sweater. He dragged it down, biting at his lower lip as he found that you were wearing nothing more than a bra underneath. Adam was nearly salivating at the sight of your cleavage, his palms lingering around each breast for a moment before he lets them drop to where the waist of your pants was snug around your hips. His fingers hooked them with ease, taking your panties with them as he drew them down your legs, and fought with them until they were left to hand from a single ankle, right above the sneaker on your foot.
For a moment Adam stood in front of you, breathing heavily with anticipation as the rush of adrenaline from the fight was threatening to come crashing down as he stood between your legs. He must have underestimated how difficult it would be to undress with such haste and it left you wondering if he had changed his mind and decided to wait until you could get back to the hotel - but before you could ask he was hooking his hands behind your knees and drawing you to the very edge of the table. The tip of his cock dragged up your inner thigh as he stepped in close, the angle awkward as he stood a little too tall with his skates, but with the firm guidance of his hands angling your hips just right and a slight bend to his knees Adam thrust his cock into the warmth of your cunt.
The careful force of his cock came with the familiar sting of taking a cock of his size. One that burned through your body like an ember that could only burn bright with every thrust. It was a pleasure that would build as he took his time with you, assuring that you could take all of him without discomfort - but today you weren’t granted the same pleasantries and you were thankful for the many nights you had laid with him preparing for this very moment.
Adam’s thrusts were far from gentle as he rocked on the blades of his skate to gain just the right momentum to fuck you upon the tabletop. A single hand rested on your hip, gripping at the flesh of your ass so firmly for leverage that you thought you might bruise, while the other sought out the nape of your neck and tangled in your hair. He used that grip to force you to look up at him, to hold the intensity of his stare and to watch as your face melted into ecstasy as he fucked you raw for the first time.
Each slap of his thighs against your own could be heard with his thrust, and the table shifted to and fro sending an awful grinding sound through the air that would undoubtedly be heard out in the hallway where the team must have been waiting as the game would have ended before you even had his cock out. Yet, Adam continued with no shame, and without any regard for the fact that at any moment his teammates or his coach would walk in on him as he railed you.
Just the thought left your jaw slacking and your eyes fluttering shut, and before you could stop yourself you were letting out a soft moan. It was one that left a smile on Adam’s face, words of encouragement leaving his lips as he continued to test the limits of your core, “That’s it, get loud for me me,” he let out a heavy breath, “for the boys,” he was groaning now, “let them all hear how we celebrate.”
His words left you hissing out, “fuck!” and your hand reached up to work his hand free of your hair. With that freedom, you leaned in and buried your face into the strength of his shoulder. There you muffled your own moans as while he encouraged you, you have rules to follow and needed to maintain certain discretions. Discretions that Adam often left you wanting to cast aside, especially now as you clung to him and fell further into a haze of ecstasy.
In the crook of his shoulder, you lost your composure completely, your moans left to warm his skin and your lips dragging carefully over his strength. You clung to him desperately, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades and a single leg coming up to wrap around the strength of his thigh as if you could manage to take him any deeper. The pleasure was enough to have you throwing your head back, sending your hair cascading down your back, and your eyes opened to seek out his features again but you were quickly distracted by a figure standing in the doorway.
Standing with his arms crossed over his chest and casually leaning up against the door frame to enjoy the show was Pierre-Luc Dubois with a small smirk playing on his lips. You didn’t know how long he had been standing there, but he didn’t look away nor did he make any attempt to leave when you had noticed him watching you. You met his stare, all the while Adam had reached a single hand between your bodies to stroke at your clit with his thumb, and it sent a wave of pleasure through your body that left you quivering. It was all quickly becoming too much, each stroke driving your body temperature to rise, sweat to build and your core to grip tightly around Adam’s cock.
It was the grip of your climax that sent Adam deep into your cunt with one final, forceful thrust that left him to unload deep inside you. You could feel every twitch of his thick cock against your core, each surge of his cum as it was spilt inside you.
“You all wrapped up in here, Lows?” Came Luc’s voice. It was a chippy, cocky tone that had you groaning at the double meaning it possessed.
“He most definitely was not,” you muttered to yourself quietly, but it was just loud enough for Adam to hear as he took a careful step back and eased his cock from inside you.
“Yeah,” Adam answered for himself after a moment of trying to stifle a bout of laughter. He masked it with ease, taking a heavy breath as he reached down to pull his layers back up. He wouldn’t speak again until his hockey pants were secured, and he stood merely shirtless in front of you - a human shield as you reached down to draw up your own pants and hide from Luc that he had just flooded your cunt with cum.
Reaching up, Adam carded a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, a knowing smile on his lips as he spoke, “The boys can all come on in now-”
Sliding down from the table, you did your best to compose yourself as the team began to flood into the room. You were just finished fastening your pants when you met with the cheers of celebration, and high fives from familiar faces as they passed - and soon as if nothing had happened at all, you and the boys fell into your respective post-game routines. Though, their night was a little different as they were celebrating: The Winnipeg Jets had clinched their wildcard position in the 2023 Stanley Cup playoffs.
