Page 9
Story: Beak Performance
“Yeah, I’m fine. Bruised lip, bruised ego, that’s all.”
His sigh sounded exasperated. This wasn’t his first job with a hockey team; he knew how we were. Just a bunch of guys who loved to hang out on the ice and fight over a rubber puck. None of us minded a bit of pain.
“Be right back. Don’t faint on me, Max.”
I rolled my eyes at Søren before slapping the ice pack on my lip.
Ah, that’s better.
Five
Arne
I’d become a pro at glossing over Max the past five weeks. I was always aware of his presence, but I cancelled him out.
The yoga routine Søren had established for us was a particular test of my self control.
Watching sweaty Max in tight shorts arching his back in a downward dog position turned me on like crazy.
The number of times I recalled our yoga routines when I was alone in bed at night should have concerned me.
I fucking hated having to pretend he didn’t exist so I didn’t walk around with a hard-on twenty-four-seven, or make thesehorny little gasps when I remembered how his dick had felt in my mouth. And how good he tasted.
You didn’t even blow him! It was just a wet dream.
I knew that on a conscious level, but it was so real… and I’d found my boxers on the floor the next morning, a dried cum stain in the front.
You woke up to take them off and went back to sleep. You’re about to break your own rules. That’s becoming the norm where Max is concerned.
I hurried down the tunnel to the locker rooms to check on him. I caught myself running on my blades, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Max had gotten injured at practice. He’d taken a puck to the lip. My mind was in overdrive. I’d always been calm and composed but right now? All of me raged. Breaking my stick on the concrete wall sounded like an excellent idea.
What if he is badly hurt? I’m his captain. I need to see him.
I met Søren, our new PT, out in the hall.
“Where is he? How bad is it?” I asked him in Danish.
“Max is fine. A bloody lip, that’s all. I’m going to get a fresh ice pack and check in with Jerke real quick. Be right back. Will you keep an eye on him?”
“Ja.”
Without another word, I pushed on. He sat with his head resting against the lockers in our dressing room.
Damn.
That gorgeous man looked edible in his white undershirt and black trousers. Blood splattered the front of the shirt, giving him a reckless look. Max had his eyes closed and used the bloodstained fabric to wipe his brow as I approached. He was unaware I was in the room with him.
The sweaty, slightly ruffled feathers covering his abs had me hard again. The sight of them triggered a memory: a bumpy,hard cock pushing past my lips, his length heavy on my tongue, and me gagging around his head…
He’s so fucking gorgeous.
“Hey, Raven, are you alright?”
Max flinched and sat up straighter, his eyes flying open. He let his shirt fall back down to cover his body and glared at me over the ice pack pressed to his mouth.
Six
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