Page 32

THIRTY

SWEETHEART

Despite how chill I’ve been feeling about this game the last few days—especially considering I’ve been preoccupied with my brothers and with getting back on track with Nik—I’m a mess of nerves in the locker room before we go out for warmups.

I know my brothers are in the stands, wearing their new Pirates sweaters instead of the old Atlanta ones they had for more than a decade, and that helps.

But it’s Nik, patting my shoulder every other minute, and my teammates giving me encouraging smiles that help me the most.

They help me enough that I don’t fall on my face when I step onto the ice, and I can glide perfectly to the new captain of the Revenge and shake his hand, showing the sportsmanship my father drilled into me since he put me on skates when I was five years old .

I don’t feel even a smidge of regret at leaving Atlanta. I don’t miss any of these guys, which is a bummer in its own unique way really. How could I have spent all of my adult life in that team and not miss them at all?

It’s probably because there was never any sense of belonging in the organization. They changed the front office every few years, and the roster of players even more often. Only the owner has been there longer than I was, and that’s not how it’s supposed to go, is it?

After doing my warmups like I usually do, I sit back in front of my cubby and see Nik’s sour expression. One he almost never has on his face. At least, not since we became... what we are.

“What’s the matter?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “How are your old teammates?” he asks with enough bitterness coming out of his mouth that I can’t help but smirk. I get it.

“Are you seriously jealous right now?” I demand teasingly.

“Shut up,” he keeps mumbling and doesn’t look my way.

“Nik,” I start patiently, telling myself not to laugh at him. It’s not nice to laugh at people’s feelings. “You have nothing to be jealous of,” I assure him.

“You played with them for a long time,” he says with a sigh.

“I did,” I agree and nod. “And I don’t miss them at all,” I confess .

That gets him to finally look at me.

“You don’t?”

“Not even a little.”

He stares at me for a moment longer and gives me a tiny, sheepish smile.

I pat his thigh and don’t let my hand linger there even though I want to. Then I look around and breathe a sigh of relief when I know no one saw. It sucks.

I don’t want to have to hide this from the team, but I’m finally in their good graces. I don’t want to fuck it up. And even though they clearly have no issues with having queer teammates, there’s no way to know if they’d be fine with two of them being together.

When the season ends, when my contract with the Pirates ends, then we can think about telling them. But no one needs that distraction right now.

I think the universe is proving my thoughts right when we win against Atlanta in true dominating fashion.

Jules got two goals and two assists, Eagle a goal, Benny a goal, and Milkman the fifth.

The win reinforces the team’s spirits, and you can feel it in the air in the locker room.

It’s with that feeling that we greet my brothers and Lou in the family room after the game.

“Congrats,” Beau tells me with a small but genuine smile.

“Thank you. Are you guys ready to fly home tomorrow?” My heart squeezes at the thought that they’ll be far away again. I never get enough time with them... which is why retiring felt like the obvious thing to do last year.

But then I see Beau wince, and I know that no matter how much I’m going to miss them, he’s going to have a harder time.

Fucking hell, I’ve known Tanner since I was a kid. He was in daycare with my brothers when they were all still in diapers for heaven’s sake. He and Beau, ever the daredevils, did everything together. They even consoled Finn when he tried to follow them up a tree and failed.

He’s been as much of a brother to Beau as Finn and I are, and I just don’t understand how he could do this to him.

“Call me if you need me,” I tell Beau suddenly, not waiting for him to reply to my previous question. I make sure he sees the certainty in my eyes. I’ll do anything for them, even piss off this team by leaving to go beat the crap out of someone who hurt my brother.

And okay, I wouldn’t leave the team in a lurch for that , but if Beau needs me I want him to know I’ll be there for him.

“Don’t worry,” he grumbles and looks away. “I’m not thinking about moving away anymore.”

“Good,” I tell him, and sigh in relief. Crushville will always be home, and Beau deserves to have that now more than ever.

We spend some more time there, the guys eating up every word coming out of Jules and Sterling’s mouths, but like it always does, the time comes for them to leave. I hug them both at the same time, one brother in each arm, like I have for as long as I can remember.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warn them.

“We never do anything stupid,” Finn quips with his shit-stirring smile. “But who knows what other people will do.”

I just shake my head at him. I don’t even want to know.

“I’ll see you two in a month.”

“You coming home for a night?” Beau asks.

“If Laney says I can, then yes.”

That’s all the confirmation they’ll get from me, but by the smiles on their faces they take it as a yes.

It’s fine. With how well Nik and I have been playing, there shouldn’t be a reason why he won’t let me—and hopefully Nik—stay an extra night away after our game against Chicago.

“You’re flying out tomorrow too, right?” Finn asks me.

“Yeah, tomorrow night after an early game. Just a four-day trip to Dallas. Then it’s the All-Star weekend, so I’ll have a few days off.” And I know exactly how Nik plans on spending that week.

“You’re gonna destroy them,” he assures me.

“Yes we will,” Nik says with a wide, evil smile. I snort at him, then almost choke when Finn gives him a quick hug that Beau mimics, and Lou does as well.

Nik looks just as stunned, but recovers quickly.

“See you,” Beau and Finn say in their creepy unison way, then they’re gone.

“Home?” I ask Nik quietly .

“Yes please. We have some training to do.”

It takes me a long second to understand what he’s talking about and I curse him for it. I blush so hard my whole face feels hot.

“Adorable,” he croons quietly.

“Shut up,” I groan at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“So I think we need some instructions,” Nik says as soon as we’re done dumping the contents of our duffels in the washing machine. It’s something I’m trying to get him used to doing, so he’ll stop leaving his duffel all over.

Hopefully I’m using the psychological training he told Benny about right, because if it works, the stink in the house will go way down.

“What do you mean by instructions?” I ask, skeptical. “Like porn?”

“Maybe?” he asks with a shrug. “Come on.” He almost runs out of the laundry room and up the stairs. I’m actually really pleased with myself, seeing how eager he is to get me playing with his ass.

It’s definitely a new thing for me. I’ve never done anal before, so it’ll be new for both of us. Well... Okay, no, I don’t want to wonder about Nik’s sex life before I came along. Nothing good lies down that path.

I find him sitting on his side of the bed, back against the headboard, tablet in his hand, and a cute concentration twist on his mouth.

I climb in, tired from the game tonight, but ready for some action, and can’t help but groan at how he worded his search.

First time anal instructions isn’t what I would’ve gone with, and sure enough, the titles of the videos that pop up are clearly not going to help.

“Nik,” I groan when he taps on the first link. Obnoxious moaning sounds come from the tablet, and I have to laugh at his wince when he sees a truly small man taking an inhumanly big dick up his ass.

I mean to each their own, but . . .

“We’re not ready for that,” I declare and take the tablet from him.

I close that tab and start fresh. Then I try a few different phrases until I find a blog post on an LGBTQ+ site that looks official enough.

“Okay, here we go. First make sure you clean yourself properly. There are a few options here,” I mumble as I read. “An enema.”

“No, it has to be easier than that,” Nik protests, and steals the tablet from my hands. I focus on his face while he reads, his mouth moving a little with the words, and then he’s up.

“Okay, I’m going to take another shower. Be right back. You keep reading the next steps,” he calls out but is already closing the bathroom door .

God, he’s really going all in on this, huh?

I spend the next twenty minutes memorizing the instructions, but the one thing we’ll need to get before we go all in—pun intended—is condoms. We haven’t needed any yet, so that goes on the list.

While I wait, I start having second thoughts. Maybe today isn’t the right time to do this...

He looked really out of it at the concert last night, but then again he was back to his usual self after. I’m not even sure there’s anything wrong, but...

Yeah, I’m probably overreacting.

He comes out completely naked and rubbing a towel over his long blond hair, and I... forget every thought I had in the past half hour.

He’s just so fucking perfect. Every muscle defined, cock hard enough to hammer nails, everything big and strong and ungh. Perfect.

“I like when you get that look on your face,” he says, voice sultry and wearing a satisfied smirk.

“I like how you look,” I throw back as if it were a stinging come back.

Still smirking, he gets back on bed and lies down, then gestures to his hard dick as if saying have your way .

I will have my way, thank you very much.

On my belly between his legs, I get right into it, licking him from root to tip, then sucking in a couple of inches. Then, for the first time, I lick down to his balls and flick my tongue there. I’ve liked when women have done this to me before and it proves to be a good move when he lets out a filthy moan.

“Charlie.”

I fucking love hearing him say my name like that, and since he’s always making me wait until I can come, I decide some payback is in order today.

I take my time with every new move I make, every new place I lick, until I find a good rhythm with one hand stroking him and the other massaging his balls, and then I go lower. I stop touching him completely, to his dismay.

“Sweetheart,” he growls in protest. Now I’m the one smirking.

“Patience.”

“Fuck patience,” he snaps.

“Now you know how it feels.”

“What, you want me to beg?”

“Is that why you’re always stopping when you’re about to make me come?”

“Yes,” he cries. “And because I know it’ll be better once you do.”

I know he’s right, but instead of telling him that, I grab his thighs from underneath and bring them up until his feet are flat on the bed, then I push them apart enough that my shoulders will fit between them.

Looking straight into his icy blue eyes, I put my left index finger in my mouth and lick all around it so it’s nice and slippery.

His eyes track every movement with the same intensity he shows on the ice when he’s following the puck, and that just adds another thrill to it all.

“Now, just relax and let me work,” I croon, then drop back down to my belly.

I get back to stroking him slowly with my right hand, and then, very lightly, I trace the ring of flesh around his opening with my wet finger.

I place the tip right on the entrance and push just the tiniest bit, then I go back to drawing circles around it.

His hips twitch, and that makes it harder for me to keep every movement so delicate—which I bet is exactly what he wants—but I don’t let it deter me.

As he writhes and groans, I start increasing the pressure, knowing the more he wants it, the easier my finger will go in.

I don’t know how long I’m there, barely jacking off his desperately hard cock and teasing his hole, but it’s long enough for him to finally beg.

“God, sweetheart, please. Please, just everything harder,” he shouts.

I decide to have mercy and finally let my finger slip in to the first knuckle. I pull back slightly then push it back in a bit more, and a bit more, and then another bit more, until it’s all in there.

At the same time, I tighten my left hand around his poor, precome-slick dick, until he’s thrusting up into my hand. I think about adding another finger, but instead, I drive the one finger in harder and faster. I twist it around until my palm is facing up, then I crook it just like the picture showed me, and...

He comes.

Just like that.

My brows rise almost to my hairline with how impressed I am. That is one nifty move right there, and I’m going to be sure to use it well and use it often.

Nik groans out his orgasm while I admire the sheer amount of come that spurts out of him, and when his body finally relaxes, I carefully take out my finger, let go of his cock, and go to the bathroom to get a wet towel after washing my hands.

“We have . . . to do . . . that . . . again,” he says, still panting, while I clean him up.

“Honestly, now I feel like experiencing that myself,” I tell him. “Not today, though,” I add, just so he knows he can take his time recovering.

“But tomorrow,” he amends.

“We’ll see,” I tell him simply. “I’m gonna go make us some shakes, and you come down to eat something when you get your breath back.” I can’t hide my amusement, and he notices of course, and narrows his eyes at me.

“Wait until you’re like this. I’m going to have no mercy.”

“Can’t wait,” I murmur, still smiling, and walk out.