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“You aren’t ready yet,” I tease, wetting my middle finger with more lube before inserting it.

Luke tightens and relaxes as I spread him apart, working him open with one hand and rolling the condom along my length with the other.

Once he’s sufficiently limber, I withdraw slowly, my cock eager and impatient.

I slather a hefty pour of lube onto my shaft and then wipe the remainder on his.

With a hard grip, I grab his hips and pull him up, angling my dick so that it’s lined up with his hole. I tease it with slow, torturous movements, making Luke’s breath catch.

“Please, Erik,” he says.

“Please, what?”

He sighs through labored breaths. “Please fuck me.”

I stick the tip in and?—

Oh, this is ridiculous.

I mutter a string of the worst curses my mind conjures up as soon as his ass closes around me. It’s official—Luke has ruined sex. Neither of us have started moving yet, but the sensation around my shaft is already making my balls tighten.

Working on autopilot, I rock into Luke which sends his eyes rolling back, a euphoric expression plastered across his face.

His full lips stay parted to let out a long string of gravelly moans, which fires me up even more.

Keeping my pace slow is all but impossible, so I ramp it up, driving into Luke faster and faster.

“More,” he groans, wrapping his toned legs around my waist and pulling me in. “I need more.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. Mid-fuck Luke is something else, and I have to look away to stop myself from exploding too soon. The feeling around my cock is unreal, like nothing I’ve ever had before, and it’s like my brain shuts off.

Every time I press into him, Luke gives out a little grunt and pushes forward, guiding me toward his prostate. I’m barely holding on after a minute of sheer bliss, and from the way Luke’s face is flushing and how his breaths are getting raspier, I get the idea that he’s in the exact same place.

“Jesus fuck, I’m so close,” he mutters. I bring my right hand to Luke’s leaking erection and tease the underside for a brief second before closing my fist and pumping hard, making him gasp.

“Come for me, Luke,” I order, and he nods.

Luke grits his teeth together, and it only takes a few strokes before he unloads across his abs with a guttural yell.

I’m right on the edge as it is, but his ass convulses around my shaft as he keeps shooting, ripping the orgasm right out of me.

Pleasure rockets through my body, searing into my nerves.

As I come to a stop, my arms buckle, making it hard to stay propped up.

Holy shit.

I withdraw, tie off the condom, and discard it, flopping down on the bed next to Luke, who’s still twitching with every shaky breath he takes.

I thought I was a wreck, but Luke? He’s demolished.

But not enough to stay completely silent. “What the actual hell…” He shifts around before going limp again, an almost drunken smile spreading lazily across his face. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Yeah.” That’s all I can muster.

He rubs his eyes, sighing. “Keep screwing my brains out like that and I’ll never want to top ever again.”

I don’t have the strength to think, so I stay silent, staring at the ceiling and bringing my breathing back to normal.

“You liked that too, right?” Luke asks, wiping himself clean with a tissue before gently stroking my arm.

Does he even have to ask?

“I still feel the aftershocks in my dick,” I mutter.

“Like the ghost of an orgasm?”

“It better not be a ghost because I want to do that again.”

“Same here.” Luke proceeds to lift his legs up and wiggle his eyebrows at me.

“Whoa, hold up,” I say, tackling him back down. “What kind of inhuman stamina do you think I have?”

A lot, apparently, because I’m hardening by the second. Luke takes a quick glance down before bringing his greedy hands to my cock, and a soft burst of energy radiates through me when he fists around it?—

My phone rings yet again.

God-fucking-damnit

“I either need to answer this very important call, or block whatever scammer is blowing up my phone,” I mutter, slipping into sweatpants.

Waiting on my phone are three missed calls from my agent, Derek, and a text that says “call me when you see this.”

My breath catches. That does not inspire confidence. At all.

I run out of Luke’s bedroom and call Derek back. He picks up immediately.

“Hi, Derek, what’s going on?” I say, speaking quietly.

“Thanks for getting back to me. Are you sitting down?”

Oh god, this can’t be good.

My stomach clenches, sending a pang of nerves through my chest and into my throat, and I crumble onto Luke’s sofa.

“I am now.”

Derek sighs, hesitating for an excruciating second. “I’ll be straightforward with you. Charlie Cortez got bumped down from the Laurentians for development. Your team is facing a salary squeeze because of this, so they’re moving you back to your old team in Sweden.”

I almost drop my phone.

No. No no no. This can’t be happening. Not now.

“What?”

Clearing his throat, Derek repeats himself.

“Cortez, from your team’s NHL affiliate, is being bumped down for recovery.

There isn’t enough room in the budget to accommodate everyone, and you’re the only player on a dual contract with the Swedish Hockey League.

Your team over there has agreed to exercise their rights over you for the rest of your contract and then re-sign you, contingent on good performance. ”

“Do I have options?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. “What if I want to stay in Toronto?”

“You’re under contract. Either you accept the so-called loan to Alvik in Sweden, or you break your legally binding agreement and get boycotted by every professional league in North America and Europe.” There’s a pause. “Then you’d have your pick of beer leagues and nothing else.”

“Okay, I got it,” I mutter.

“Look, I’m sorry. Apparently, it was the only way to balance things without cutting three junior players, and I hate to be harsh, but trades and contract complications are part of the game.”

“I know. It fucking sucks and I don’t want to move, but what can I do?” My teeth are gritted, my words come out as growls, and I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

“Jeez, Erik. Are you okay?”

I grunt out my reply. “No, I’m not.”

“Wait. Did you meet someone? Is that why you're?—”

“Yes.”

“Is it serious?”

“It was about to be.” I catch myself—I shouldn’t take this out on Derek. It isn’t his fault. “Sorry. I’m being unreasonable. Just in a weird place right now.”

“You’re good, no harm done.” Derek clicks around on his computer. “The league will book you a flight that leaves in a week, and then Alvik will let you know when you’re starting with them.”

“Anything else?”

Derek sighs. “No. That’s it, unless you want to discuss visa options for your, uh, partner?” He trails off, tentative, and I don’t reply.

What would I even say? “Hey, Luke. I know we met less than a month ago, but I really like you, so do you want to quit your high-paying job and move across the world with me to a country where you don’t speak the language and probably won’t find work for half a year?”

As if.

“That won’t be necessary. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. And again, I’m sorry about all this.”

The line clicks, I throw my phone onto the sofa, and I bury my face in my hands. Luke chooses that exact moment to emerge from his room.

“Shit, Erik, what’s wrong?” He rushes over and slings an arm around me. “Are you okay?”

While the word “no” is short, it still gets stuck in my throat. I suck in air, trying to steady myself, but Luke has other ideas and hugs me closer.

“Hey, it’s okay. Talk to me.”

Emotion rises in my throat and I stop myself from wailing. Barely. “Everything is shit.”

Luke gives my hand a squeeze which should be comforting, but it only serves as a reminder that what I hoped to have with him is being relegated to a pile of what-ifs. “What happened?”

“My contract is split between a team here and one in Sweden. They’re sending me back and I don’t have a choice.” The pit in my stomach is already heavy, and getting the words out makes it worse.

When Luke tightens his grip instead of pulling back, that pit disappears. It’s like Luke saps all the tension from the call out of my body, and I’m hit with the easiest calm I’ve ever known. Even my racing mind can’t make my body tense back up.

“Are you excited to go home?” Luke finally asks. His grip loosens and I lean into him, chasing his touch.

“No.”

Luke bunches his lips together. “How much longer do you have here?”

“A week. Then I’m gone.”

He hesitates, but only for a second. “And is this move good for your career?” he asks.

“Probably?” I let out a heavy sigh. “There’s more pay and growth potential in the SHL compared to where I am now. More stability, too.”

Luke gives me a weak smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

I clasp my hands together and press my face into my fingertips. Every single one of Luke’s questions were about me . He isn’t even thinking about himself.

My god, I wish I had more time with him. I wish I could take him with me.

I wish I could ask Luke to come with me, but that would be absurd. I haven't even known him for a month.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss you,” he says.

And that settles it. If this morning wasn’t hard enough, Luke twists the knife without even trying.

I sink my head down, blinking and struggling to hold myself together. “Yeah.” I rub my eyebrow. “And I was gonna ask to make things official today.”

For the first time this morning, Luke lets his feelings slip, and he runs both hands down his face. “Same here. Fuck. This is some awful timing, holy shit.”

Don’t cry. Do not fucking cry.

“I’ve had such an amazing time with you.” A ragged breath escapes me, and I replace it with a shaky inhale to hold back an onslaught of tears. “We can’t… fuck . I can’t stay here, but can we pretend I’m not leaving? Just for the week we have left?”

Luke lifts his head, surprised, and presses his mouth into a firm line. “Yeah, I can do that. Come here, you.”

He reaches out for a hug, I go in for a kiss, and he accepts me.

Neither of us complain. This is no time for anything deep or passionate, but I go there anyway.

Maybe it’s to make the most of what I have left, or so I can burn the minty taste of Luke’s lips into my mind, or a bit of both.

Either way, my imminent departure does nothing to take our energy away.

Luke gives it back to me with the same vigor, pulling me in by the small of my back and darting his tongue into my mouth for a few amazing seconds. Lifting a leg over me, he straddles my waist and picks up where he left off, pressing me into the back of the sofa while my hands roam under his shirt.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Luke mutters, breaking the kiss only to take a breath, and he’s back on me.

I didn’t have a say in any of this, and I can’t stand losing control—unless it’s to Luke. It’s different when he takes charge, and it’s the only time when giving in feels good.

And the second I let him in, I have to go.

I can't shut him out, even if I wanted to.

He knocked down my walls with the sledgehammer I gave him, and now that I’m leaving, there’s nothing left for me to hide behind.