Page 18

"We need" —I suck in a quick breath, my chest pressing further against the wall. My fingers curl, seeking some sort of purchase but finding nothing— "to hurry."

Gabe's tongue licks across one cheek and then the other.

He doesn't seem to be taking my panted words seriously because he sure as hell isn't rushing what he's doing.

My pants are down around my knees, and I know he's wearing his base layer of clothes.

He should be in the locker room with the rest of his team, getting ready, pumping each other up.

Instead, he's in a supply closet, on his knees, and teasing me.

He's still pumping something up, I guess.

I let my head fall forward and rest against the wall, sticking my ass out to meet Gabe's tongue. I can feel his breath against my bare ass when he laughs. "I'm going to take as long as I want," he says.

My words catch in my throat and instead of saying something back, a long moan fills the small space when his tongue brushes against my hole.

"Daddy." The word slips out as naturally as his name now. Despite our busy schedules, we've found time over the last month to go on dates or hang out at the house. Owen has joined us a few times, and it's in those moments that I see how easily Gabe fits in with not only me, but with my son as well.

When we've been alone, we've explored my Little side.

I love getting to spend time with Gabe, but also how liberating it is to let all the worries and stress melt away and just be .

Daddy is hands-on too, playing with me and anticipating my every move and want.

He keeps my sippy cup filled with apple juice or water, helps me dress in my underwear and clothes.

My most favorite time is when we cuddle at night and he reads me a book until I fall asleep against his chest.

My thoughts stop montaging the last month of our lives when his hand slips around my hip and grabs my cock.

I'm close already, and the added friction of his calloused hand around me is getting me there quicker.

My body can't decide between moaning and biting my lip.

I know I can't be too loud. Daddy's other hand reaches up and grips my hip.

His face is buried in my ass, and I so wish I could see what we look like.

His tongue breaches my hole slightly just as his hand tightens around the head of my cock. My whole body shivers. I am fast approaching the point of no return. His tongue flicks over my hole again and again, adding pressure and then going back to licking.

“I'm so close, Daddy. So close."

In a dizzying moment, I'm spun around and my back is pressed against the wall.

I watch with a slack jaw as Gabe takes my cock into his mouth.

In one movement, his nose is pressed against my skin and I can feel the tightness of his mouth, the heat that's driving me wild. I buck my hips and Gabe pulls back.

"Don't move, baby." His eyes lock with mine as he takes the head of my cock in his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around in a magical pattern before pulling back again.

"Come for me, sweetheart. I need you to come before Daddy goes out there and plays the first game of the season.

" His hand is pumping me, the other fondling my balls as he speaks. Daddy is the king of dirty talk.

It doesn't take but two more sucks before I'm coming down my Daddy's throat with a stifled shout.

The wave of pleasure is overwhelming, and my knees nearly buckle, but Gabe is there to hold me up.

He tucks me back into my pants and rights my clothes like nothing happened.

The flush of my cheeks and heavy breathing says otherwise.

"I think we'll have to make this my pregame ritual," Daddy says softly, brushing his fingers across my cheek. "I'll see you out there, baby."

“Good luck," I say. My brain is still not fully back on track, but he just smiles and kisses me on the corner of my mouth before turning and opening the closet door.

I give myself a few seconds to regain some composure before heading into the main room, aiming for the sink in the corner to clean up.

Gabe and I started in my office, actually going over different aspects of my job.

But then one thing led to another, and then Gabe was asking about the products in the supply closet.

In hindsight, I should have seen the whole hook-up-in-the-closet move coming.

Rookie mistake.

It's the first game of the season tonight.

There's been a buzz all week about it. I've worked with each of the guys on the team, along with Frankie, making sure they are all familiar with the stretches and what to look out for as far as strained muscles and injuries.

I've seen pictures of roughed up hockey players, and I've even seen a small bruise or two on Gabe's body, and that's just during practice.

It makes me a bit worried for him, but I know he's been playing for years and that he knows what he is doing.

When I make my way out to the rink, the noise level is insane.

There's music playing and people shouting.

The opposing team is already on the ice, warming up.

Since we have home ice advantage, we'll have a few minutes before the game starts to take to the ice.

I check my watch. Still thirty minutes until the first period.

I’d probably be more nervous if I hadn't just come.

I spot Karen and Harold in the reserved seats I was heading towards.

One of the perks of working for the team is that you can get free tickets.

I invited them along for selfish reasons, but seeing the way Owen is beaming from ear to ear with excitement makes it worth it.

He's holding a plastic tray of nachos with cheese smothering them.

Dinner of champions, but I'll allow it tonight.

"Dad!" Owen shouts when he spots me. Karen looks at me for just a second before going back to her conversation with her husband.

"Hey, buddy," I ruffle his hair and smile, "how are you liking it so far?"

If we were in a cartoon, he would have sparkles in his eyes. "This is so much fun! Are you going to go on the ice?"

"No, I don't go out there. I get to sit here with you unless someone gets hurt. Then I would go back into my office and help them."

"Can I see your office?"

"After the game," I answer easily. Depending on how the game goes tonight, Gabe has said he'll either go out and celebrate with the team, or head back to his dorm.

I'll have to get Owen home and in bed soon after anyway.

I offered for Gabe to come over, but he has some exams coming up he needs to study for .

The announcer’s voice comes over the speakers, grabbing everyone's attention. "Let’s make some noise, for the first time this season, the Phoenix Penguins!"

The crowd goes wild and I hold back a smile as Owen joins them, scrambling to stand on his seat and almost spilling his food. I make sure it's set down before picking him up so he can see the guys come up the tunnel.

Each player grabs their gear before hitting the ice and making a few laps around.

Some wave and smile at people they recognize as they pass, which makes everyone cheer louder.

Not once does the crowd lose momentum until the announcer starts up again, calling out numbers and names to announce the lineup for this year.

Owen squeals in excitement when he hears Gabe's name, and it makes my heart soar for so many reasons.

"Can we go up to the glass?" Owen asks. I can see why he's asking. We are in the third row and the stands are elevated, but he's only five and is surrounded by adults.

"Maybe for a bit when the game starts," I answer.

He finishes his nachos, kicking his feet with excitement the entire time.

I eye the guys on the ice, slipping back into work mode to watch each of them.

No one needs to know that my eyes keep drifting back to jersey number twenty-six.

My initial fears about our personal and work lives mingling have mostly been settled.

There's still a small bit of uneasiness I feel when I'm directing the whole team to do certain stretches during practice, or when Coach thanks me for taking Gabe 'under my wing'.

The game is intense from the puck drop.

I've had to brush up on my hockey knowledge now that I'm dating a hockey player.

I knew the basics, enough to get this job, but the way Gabe talks about the game, I couldn't keep up with the different positions and rules.

I'm still learning, but I know enough to truly enjoy the game.

I explain as much as I can to Owen, but he doesn't seem interested in anything past when the guys get smashed against the glass.

Gabe plays Left Winger, which is unfortunate for us as he's playing on the other side of the ice from where we're sitting, but he does get pushed against the wall a few times. During the second intermission, when the guys are catching their breath and regrouping, the score is 3 to 1, with us in the red. It doesn’t look good, but we still have one more period left, and I’ve learned that teams have beaten greater odds than that in the final minutes of a game.

"Dad, what's that?" Owen catches my attention and points to the Zamboni on the ice.

"It's cleaning the ice so that when the players come back, the rink will be clear like in the beginning of the game. Too much ice being scratched away can cause buildup and it can slow the players down or cause them to fall."

"I like when they fall," Owen says happily and so, so innocently. I roll my eyes and laugh.

"It was a little bit funny when Wallace fell, wasn't it?"

Wallace is one of our team players and I do need to go make sure that everything is okay. "How would you like to go meet the team real quick? I bet they could use some high fives from you."

"Yes! Yes!" Owen jumps up, completely ignoring his grandparents. They haven't said much during the game, but it's also been so loud. They look over at us now.

"We'll be back. Would you like anything to drink or eat?"

“We're fine, Justin. Thank you." Karen gives me a quick smile and Harold holds up his half-filled beer .

I flash my badge to the security guy standing by the door and he lets us through easily.

Coach is giving a pep talk and giving the new plays for the last period when we walk in.

Owen stands close to me, his hand firmly in mine.

Half the guys are sitting, others are throwing down some fresh water and cramming energy bars.

We wait quietly until Overton is finished.

The guys have another ten minutes before they need to be back on the ice for the final period.

"Little man!" Gabe calls when he spots Owen. He shoots me a wink before motioning for Owen to run over to him. There is only a moment's hesitation on Owen's part before he drops my hand and goes full speed. "How are you liking the game?"

"It's awesome! I like when you bump into the wall and how everyone screams when you score." Owen's voice falters a bit when he realizes that most of the room is looking at him.

"I didn't know you had a kid, Gabe," someone says.

"He's not mine," Gabe says. "He's Justin's. We're just really good friends, aren't we, Owen?"

"Yes!" Owen nods excitedly.

I watch as Gabe introduces most of the team.

Owen is not going to remember any of their names, but it's worth a shot.

He ends up giving everyone a high five before we have to head back out.

I check on the players, make sure no one needs anything from me.

Frankie and I will be splitting the team for about half an hour after the game as they all get out of their uniforms, but nothing has happened to cause any injuries.

Knock on wood, I think.

We're back in our seats just in time for the last period to start.

The crowd is more amped up than they've been the whole game.

We score pretty quickly into the period, which seems to give the guys the motivation to push harder, skate faster, be even more aggressive.

One of the guys on the other team gets thrown into the penalty box for trying to start a fight, which gives us a power play and the advantage we need to score once more.

With five minutes left in the game, we're tied.

I look from the ice to Owen. His eyes are tired, I can tell, but he's fighting it.

They're glued to the ice, darting this way and that.

I don't know how much he understands, but I can see a future obsessed with hockey.

I'll have to look into skating lessons for him.

He's never been on ice before, but I recognize that glint of excitement in his eyes.

The game goes into overtime until we finally score the winning goal.

Drinks and popcorn mix all around us. I hold Owen in my arms, protecting him more than celebrating.

Someone has one of those handheld horns, which I've been told are banned, and others are shouting in celebration. I catch more than a few curse words.

I follow the team and Coach back to the locker room once more.

Frankie and I go to the physical therapy room, and I set Owen down in an empty chair.

He's about to topple over with sleep. The excitement is leaving his body quickly.

Gabe is the first to come in, along with Paul and Barry.

Gabe immediately goes to Owen and scoops him up into his arms.

By the time Gabe moves to sit in the chair, Owen is passed out on his shoulder. "I'm good. All my muscles are loose, my head is good. Focus on the other guys. I've got him."

The guys come in two or three at a time.

Gabe walks around the room with Owen in his arms. I don't see any signs of him hurting so I trust that he's telling me the truth that he's okay and that I don't need to make him do any post-game stretches or check him for injuries.

I give some advice for a couple of them to take it easy, but I also know they're all about to go out and celebrate the first game and the first win.

Soon enough, it's just me, Gabe, and Owen. He's still fast asleep. I'm sure he'll sleep in a bit tomorrow.

"Good game," I whisper, standing next to him. I lay one hand on Owen's back and the other on Gabe's bicep. I give him a gentle squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Daddy."

I stand on my tippy toes to kiss his cheek and then take my son to head home.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Gabe says. "But text me so I know you made it home safely."