Big Girl Panties

“Trix, this isn’t funny.” Clint pounded on the locked bathroom door with his fist and spoke with pure frustration. All the hardworking man wanted was a shower before heading off to bed.

“Give me five minutes, please.”

Trixie O’Callahan had the same frustration pent up inside her overworked body and it wasn’t her fault she had managed to beat her co-worker to the bathroom. She knew it had been a bitch move, running a hot bath rather than the agreed upon ten minute limit shower but on the road she was entitled to a little R&R. It wasn’t only Clint who worked hard.

From the other side of the door she could hear him sigh and walk away. Probably doing what he always did when she pulled that stunt: flop onto his bed and sulk with the television volume on blast on a television channel she absolutely hated. After nearly seven seasons with the Chicago Blackhawks as an equipment manager, Trixie thought she had earned the right to her own hotel room. That would be a discussion she would take up with Stan again in the morning. Even though she knew she would get the same old expired answer.

Rinsing the suds off her flushed skin, Trixie decided to call it night and pulled the drain before getting out. There was one thing Trixie enjoyed about staying in some of the nicest hotels while on the road and that was the plush, white cotton towels that so graciously soaked up the excess water from her skin. Opening the door, steam escaped behind her and another groan came from Clint. He was smart enough to know she had more than likely used all the hot water supplied to their room.

“I am so getting my own room next season.”

Trixie laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Holding the towel against her body and moving to her bed, Trixie playfully stuck her tongue out at her roommate. Over the years, she and Clint had developed a tight knit friendship and fought like brother and sister. Clint claimed the bathroom his. When her eyes fell upon the clock she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was nearing three in the morning. She was most surprised by the fact she wasn’t exactly ready to lay down and close her eyes despite the fact she had spent the last two hours preparing the locker room for the morning skate and the evenings game.

At first nothing had seemed out of place in the quiet hotel room. Why should it? No one else—that she knew of—had a key to the room expect her and Clint. But, when she noticed one crucial thing was missing her relaxed mood had suddenly faded and the anger and frustration had set in.

“Damn it, Shaw!” She breathed out.

Clad only in her towel and not forgetting her key, Trixie marched out into the silence of the hallway. She knew exactly what had happen to her duffle bag for it wasn’t the first time this stupid stunt had been pulled on her. It was a game the infamous Adam Burish and Patrick Sharp had thought of one bored night and it seemed that Sharp had passed the ritual off to one young player now that his partner in crime was long gone from Chicago.

Standing in the middle of the hallway, Trixie cleared her throat. “Andrew Shaw, you have five seconds to open your door.”

It took less than five seconds for Andrew Shaw to open the door to his room. Sure enough he held a smile mimicking that of the Cheshire cat. He knew exactly why his name had been called out and the sight of seeing Trixie O’Callahan standing in the hall with only the small plush towel wrapped tightly around her curvaceous body was well worth the week of hell she would likely put him through.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’?” Trixie snapped. “I want my fucking duffle.”

Shaw was hoping that at any second the towel would fall and he could catch a glimpse of the body Adam Burish had described to him in perfect detail one drunken night he had been in town. Not even seconds after the words had left her mouth; three more doors had swung open all eager to see if her towel would pool around her feet.

Jonathan Toews was in only his boxers, annoyed that once again this stupid prank had woken him from his sleep, while his neighbor from across the hall, Patrick Kane slyly held his phone ready with the camera on. He was clearly pretending to text and he didn’t know why he still pretended to do so after all these years. Daniel Carcillo’s door was the closet to her, and while this had been the first time he was a witness to the chaos, his roommate, Bryan Bickell was not. He giggled like a school girl and gave the thumbs up to Shaw.

“It’s cold, I’m tired and I would appreciate it if you would return my duffle.”

Deciding it was time to give it back—and that he would definitely do it again in the future—Andrew grabbed her bag and walked it out to her. “Can you at least show me your tits?”

With the hand that wasn’t holding her towel up, Trixie playfully punched him in the shoulder before taking back what was hers.

“So is that a no?” He called out.

“Fuck you, Shawzy.”

However, the first thing Trixie did was drop her towel the second the door closed behind her. Clint was still in the shower. She hadn’t been lying about the fact she was cold and all she wanted was to cozy up in a pair of old sweats and a sweatshirt. It was always a mystery to her as to how the guys managed to coax the front desk in to giving them a copy of the key to their room. They all took well advantage of the fact she was the first one at the rink and the last one to leave.

Crawling into her full sized bed, Trixie made herself comfortable and flipped through channels before settling on the Lifetime Network. The movie would for sure knock her out in a matter of minutes. When Clint exited the bathroom and dressed for bed, he was too tired to fight her for the remote and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. Being a night owl was somewhat of a curse Trixie had inherited from her father.

Her eyes were beginning to feel like cinder blocks and no more than a minute after she had turned off both the television and light, her iPhone vibrated on the nightstand. The light damn near blinded her as she punched in her passcode and read the late night message.

down the hall, third door 2 the right…right now.

Not responding and playing it off like she was already asleep was not an option she could or wanted to go with. Pushing the covers off her body, Trixie tip-toed out of the room and followed the directions. As she neared the third door to her right, it opened before she had a chance to open it and calloused fingers gripped her forearm pulling her in. It was pitch black and smelled like cleaning supplies.

“What are you—“ She was cut off with a kiss. A kiss which she melted into and recognized the taste of the tongue as it slipped past her lips.

“I believe I’m about to fuck you. If that’s okay?” He attacked her neck with feverish kisses, sucking, nibbling the skin. When Trixie responded with only a moan, he took that as his okay to proceed with pulling down her sweats and panties. Trixie worked quick to pull down his basketball shorts and boxers as she kicked aside her bottoms.

In a swift motion, he pushed Trixie against the wall and like a reflex she hoisted her legs and wrapped them tight around his waist. Before it registered in her head what was about to happen, Trixie had to bite her lower lip hard in an attempt to silence the loud moan which threatened to escaped. He had to do the same as her tightness shrouded his hard member. Her name trembled out of his mouth a few times as he thrusted her harder and harder against the wall. Their lips desperately met for a kiss to drown out the sounds they were making.

With nothing around her to grip her fingers tightly around, Trixie dug her fingernails into his shoulders as she body neared its climax. That welcomed hot tingle welled in her belly and seconds after her muscles tightened and began to twitch, she felt the warmth of him spill inside.

They shared a few quick kisses before Trixie unwrapped her legs from around his waist. She had little confidence in placing her feet on the ground as her legs were so shaky and felt as if Jell-O had replaced her bones.

“Shit, Trix.” He breathed out, pushing a lock of her damp raven hair off her sweaty forehead.

Both were satisfied though preferred another place than the hotel supply closet to do their deed. But, that’s a small price to pay while on the road. They used an iPhone to provide them with enough light as they searched for the clothes they discarded moments ago. Trixie was sure her panties were on inside-out. Leaving the closet they were hushed, not wanting to cause a commotion and disturb anyone who may have caught a case of insomnia. The two of them together would be hard to explain.

They reached his door first and before going in, he grabbed her arm yet again to stop her stride. He wanted a goodnight kiss. “Goodnight, Trixie.”

Pecking at his reddened and swollen lips, Trixie drew in a sharp intake of oxygen. “Goodnight, Dan.”