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Brendon

T he game is over, we won, and I’m on cloud nine.

I’ve got Senor Butts on his leash looking dapper as fuck as we walk into the locker room after the game. The boys are excited and rowdy, as they should be. It was a hard-won game, and they did great.

“Hold the fuck up!” Louis, Carpenter’s roommate, yells. “Are you two fucking married?” He points between Paul and me.

“I didn’t think that sentence was going to end that way.” Paul laughs. “Yeah, we got married in Vegas.”

The locker room goes silent, and everyone turns to look at us. I can see Paul tensing up, waiting for a bad reaction, so I do what I do best, distract.

“Honestly, did you really think anyone else was going to put up with my shit? Good thing I’ve got a nice ass, huh?”

“New rule!” Carp yells. “No one talks about their sex lives. No details.”

The entire room says “Agreed” in unison, and I laugh.

“Oh, come on, you sure you don’t want to hear about when Paul jack—” Paul puts his hand over my mouth, and I laugh.

“That’s enough of that.” He gives me the look, and I shiver. I wish he could fuck already, but he can’t. Stupid surgery.

I bite his palm, and he pulls his hand away while I smile.

“Also,” I say as I pick up the dog. “This is Senor Butts.”

“Seymour!” Paul shouts.

“That’s what I said.” I shrug.

Everyone laughs, and they go back to celebrating.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.” I nudge my husband and put my arm around his shoulders.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he grumbles.

We hang out while everyone is getting changed. Since it’s the last game of the season for us, I’m glad it ended with a win. Maybe next year we’ll make it to the Frozen Four.

“Brendon, we have to figure out what we’re going to do with the puppy. We can’t keep him in the dorms.” Paul is the killer of dreams.

“I know, but I don’t want to let him go. Look at his sweet face.” I hold the dog up at face level.

“If we had our own place, this wouldn’t be a question, but we can’t get kicked out of the dorms.”

I huff, and my heart hurts at the idea of giving him up.

“Maybe one of the coaches can take him so you can still see him all the time.”

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn to find Assistant Coach Scott.

“What if he slept at my house?” The words coming out of his mouth sound like English, but it takes my brain a second to understand them. “I’ll bring him with me in the morning, you can have him all day, he’ll hang out at the bench during practice, then come home with me at night.”

Hope bursts in my heart.

“Really? You would be willing to do that?”

He looks at the pup and nods. “I’m gonna let him sleep on the bed, though.”

“That’s perfect! He’s definitely a bed dog.”

Paul sighs and mutters, “We’re going to need a huge bed.”

“And when we graduate and leave the dorms, we can have him?” I need the clarification because I’m not giving him up.

“Of course. You’ll need to chip in for dog food and that kind of stuff, vet bills. He’s your dog, just sleeping at my house.” Scott reaches out to pet the puppy, and Seymour licks his hand.

“He’s obviously a good judge of character,” I say begrudgingly. “Okay, we can try it.”

Paul puts a hand on my lower back and leans into me a little. “It’s a good option.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” I grumble.

“Thank you, Scott,” Paul says. “We really appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog but didn’t want it stuck at home all day by itself, so this is a good alternative.” He pets the dog again, and Butts lays his head on my shoulder.

“Okay, let’s get some dinner, celebrate the win with the boys, then get to bed.” Paul leads me out of the locker room and down the hallway.

Something about this moment reminds me of the years I spent jumping at shadows. I almost gave up hockey just to get away from Chad, but if I had, I wouldn’t have Paul. I no longer jump at loud noises or flinch when someone touches me. I’m able to smile and sleep and be me. I’m sure I’ll still have setbacks, things that trigger a memory that I wasn’t expecting and send me spiraling, but I know that Paul will love me through those times. He’ll hold me while I break down and not judge me for it, close the cabinet doors that I leave open, and only grumble a little when he finds the milk warm on the counter.

We get to Rocky’s, and the fans have already gotten the party started. It’s loud and crowded, which is the best way to celebrate. Paul and I aren’t drinking tonight, but we sit around and enjoy the conversation of our teammates and their significant others.

Football Guy sits next to Carp, and if I’m not mistaken, reaches over to put his hand on the captain’s thigh. Carppy’s face turns hungry as he looks at the other man, and I swear I get singed from it.

“Carp and Nick are going to fuck so hard later,” I whisper into Paul’s ear. He turns his head and watches the exchange that’s all eye contact.

“Oh shit, yeah they are,” he chuckles. “I can’t wait to be able to fuck again.”

I take a second to look at Paul, really look at him. He’s sagging in his chair, eyes heavy. He needs to go to bed.

“All right, time for bed. Come on, sleepy pants.” I push back from the table and pick up my pupper.

“What? We just got here. You didn’t even order yet.” Paul turns in his seat to argue.

“You are about to fall asleep. You just had surgery and need to rest.” I kiss his forehead, and there’s a bunch of “Awww” around the room. I flip everyone off and head to Scott. It hurts my heart to give up the pup, but I know I have to. It’s just a few hours before I’ll see him again.

I lean my head down to kiss him, and he jerks back, smacking my nose. My eyes water and white-hot pain shoots through my face.

“Fuck,” I yell and cup my nose. Scott reaches for the dog and takes him from me while I breathe through it. Goddamn, that’s brutal.

Paul stands next to me, rubbing my back. “Do you want ice?”

“Maybe.”

“On it,” Jeremy says.

I check my upper lip, and I’m not bleeding again, thank God, but I sit down since my eyes won’t stop watering. Jeremy appears with a bag of ice and some napkins to wrap around it. I lean my head back and groan when the ice is placed on my nose. It feels so good.

Paul runs his fingers through the long hair on top of my head, then pets the short hairs on the sides.

“Are you bleeding?”

“No, I’m okay.” I sit up and take the ice off my face. Seymour is sitting on the floor next to Scott, just watching everything going on. He’s a good pup.

“Okay, we’re going to go back to the dorms,” Paul tells everyone. “We’ve had about enough excitement as we can handle for one day.”

The guys chuckle, and I say good night, then reach for Paul’s hand and let him lead me from the restaurant.

“That could have gone worse,” I say.

“What are you talking about?”

“Telling everyone we’re married.” I shrug. “It could have gone worse.”

“I’m going to tell myself not to read the comments on our posts. I’m sure there’s some dickheads on there.”

“Fuck them.” I pull Paul closer and wrap my arm around his lower back. “They don’t matter. The only opinions that count are yours and mine.”

“And Seymour Butts.”

I laugh so hard I have to brace myself on my knees. I did not expect that answer or for Paul to say Butts. Best name choice ever.

I’m still chuckling when we get to the elevator and into our room.

“I don’t know what you were worried about. My name picking ability is on point. His name is perfection.” I pull off my jacket and start unbuttoning my shirt when Paul stops me.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says quietly as he undresses me. My nose is still throbbing a little, and I know we can’t have sex yet, but him touching me, looking at me like this, is making it hard to remember that. His fingers dance over my skin, teasing me with the touch he knows I crave.

“I don’t have the energy for much, but I just want to touch you tonight.” Paul’s eyes drag over my body like a physical caress.

“But I get to come, right?” My dick is already hard and wanting attention.

He chuckles and leans forward to place open-mouth kisses on my chest.

“Please,” I whimper.

“Shhh,” he says against my skin.

Paul gets me undressed, kissing and nipping at the exposed skin until I’m naked while he’s still dressed. He pulls me against him, the fabric of his suit rubbing my skin is strange, but I like it.

“Are you going to get naked too?” I run the back of my pointer finger down the buttons of his shirt.

“You do it.” His gaze locks on mine, and I quickly open his shirt without looking away. I slide the shirt and jacket off his shoulders and hang them up before opening his pants. He toes off his shoes so I can get the rest of his clothes off.

I take in his body, the long, muscle-packed thighs, the tight, trim abdomen, wiry arms, and defined pecs. His body screams speed and agility. One of the puncture marks from his surgery is bruised, but the other two are just a little red. So far it looks like they're healing up well.

Paul takes my hand and pulls me to the bed. Normally, he lies down first so I can lie on him, but I don’t want to put my weight on his injury, so I climb on first.

“Roll over,” he tells me, and I flip to my stomach. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but it doesn’t matter. I trust him.

Paul straddles my thighs, resting his cock on my crack, and leans forward to pepper my shoulders with kisses. Sometimes he bites, sometimes he sucks, but most of it is light kisses.

“I love your shoulders,” he whispers against my skin. “You’re so strong, powerful.”

I smile into the pillow and wait to see what he does next. Paul licks down my spine and digs his fingers into the muscles of my ass. It feels amazing to have those muscles massaged, even if it doesn’t last very long.

“This,” he cups my ass and jiggles it, “is a work of art.”

I snort as he bites me, not hard, just barely pressing his teeth into my flesh.

This is so much more than sex—it’s savoring, loving, sweet. I haven’t had a lot of sweet interactions with sexual partners, but this is like coming home. My insecurities try to tell me that I’m not worthy of his attention, of his care, of his love, but the way he loves me proves to me that Paul thinks I am. That’s what matters.

Paul doesn’t leave even a centimeter of my skin untouched. My body is worshipped, slowly, purposefully, while he whispers words against my flesh. I’m not hard or buzzing with lust; I’m relaxed and sated. Would I like an orgasm? Of course, but that’s not what this is about. This is about comfort, both his and mine after the shitshow that was the last few days.

Paul makes his way back up my body, kissing and nipping until he’s at my neck.

“You know, I wasn’t so sure about this tattoo,” he says as he traces it with his tongue, “but it does something to that Neanderthal part of my brain that wants to claim you.”

I smile against my arms. “I am yours. Even before this started, I was yours. I just didn’t know it yet.”

“Mmmm,” he growls with my skin in his teeth, sending a shiver through me. “You were mine then, but I didn’t feel like I could touch you. Not like I wanted to. You weren’t exclusively mine. Now, if someone tries to make me share or tries to take you, I’ll hurt them.”

My heart flutters at his words, at the seriousness of them. I think I love that possessiveness. And I may just have to rile him up on purpose sometimes, just so he’ll fuck me extra hard. My dick twitches at the thought.

“I love you, Brendon, until my heart stops beating.”

“Then I’ll make sure it never does.”