Page 16 of Defensive Zone (Chicago Thunder #3)

Chapter Fifteen

Zach

I follow Carter as he rushes down the hall to my room, chuckling under my breath at his eagerness. I’m also trying not to let the little voice in the back of my mind think too hard about where this has come from. We’ve always been affectionate. Ever since we were kids, it was like physical touch was our thing. But it’s different now. Each touch means something more than just two best friends.

So much more .

When I walked into the living room, it wasn’t with the intention to eavesdrop on his conversation. I didn’t hear all of it, but I’m glad I caught the end. I could tell that there was something Carter was trying to deal with on his own, but I wanted—no, needed —to remind him he wasn’t alone in this. That just because I was recovering didn’t mean he couldn’t lean on me when he needed it.

His laughter fills the room as Carter throws himself onto my bed and tries to pull off his sweats as he bounces on the mattress, the springs groaning under his weight.

I try to hide my amusement behind my casted hand.

“What have you got in mind? Because I was thinking more of a cuddle session…” I deadpan.

Brown eyes sparkle back at me, a wicked smirk on his full lips. “I dunno. Blow jobs? Frothing?”

My eyes widen as I gape at him. “Frothing?”

“Yeah, you know.” He mimics jerking off with his hand. “Jerking each other off at the same time, same hand.”

I press my lips together, swallowing down the bark of laughter that threatens to escape as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I think you mean frotting.”

He snaps his fingers and points at me. “That’s it!”

I snicker as he finally kicks his sweats onto the floor, then pulls off his hoodie, tossing it away, leaving him in only his light gray boxer briefs. My eyes linger on his almost naked body. The slight opening in my drapes casts the perfect spotlight on his smooth, light brown skin.

Shadows fall in the dips and grooves of his solid muscle, and I want to trace every decadent inch of his smooth skin with my tongue. Worship him until he’s wrung out with pleasure before doing it all over again.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen Carter in only his boxers. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I can count. But this is the first time I’ve seen him like this . His half-hard cock straining against the cotton. The desire burning bright in his eyes because of me .

For me.

A shiver travels down my spine at the overwhelming emotion swirling in my chest. I’ve wanted this for so long. Carter is the only person I’ve ever wanted, and now I finally get to have him, I’m not sure whether to scream in celebration or cry from gratitude.

“Zach? You getting over here or what?”

His voice snaps me out of the daze, and I close the distance. Climbing on the bed next to him, he grabs hold of my hips and motions for me to straddle his lap. My eyes shoot to his, looking for… something. Nerves? Hesitation? Any sign that he’s freaking out about being with a man? Surely it can’t be this easy.

Maybe you’re overthinking this .

True, but I don’t want Carter to run before he can walk. I don’t want him to be scared off because he’s going faster than he’s ready for. Because he thinks he owes me this or some shit.

Or he’s going at the exact speed that’s right for him.

Fuck off, conscience. Stop being so logical.

When I don’t see anything but pure want shining bright in his eyes, I throw my leg over his waist. My cock thickens in my briefs at being near his shaft. My arms remain at my sides as his warm palms run up the front of my legs, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin on my inner thigh. By the time the tips of his fingers slip beneath the hem of my boxers, I’m impossibly hard, and if he’s fazed by the tent my hard cock is creating, he doesn’t let it show. In fact, his eyes dip lower, and I’m unable to miss the audible hitch in his breath before he licks his bottom lip and tugs it between his teeth in a seductive move.

“Fuck, I can’t get over how hot you are,” he says, his voice dripping in wonderment. “I’ve always thought you were hot, but I never let myself see you in the ‘I really wanna fuck you’ kinda hot way before.”

I force myself to swallow, and my voice comes out raspy as I ask, “And you see me like that now?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He nods in earnest. “I want to do it all, but I don’t want to fuck it up by doing something wrong.”

“You won’t do it wrong, Carter.”

He ignores my reassurance. “I mean, I’ve watched a lot of porn. Like this week, I’ve gone through an entire jumbo bottle of lube. I feel like I’ve been missing out all this time. I’m suffering from some major FOMO.”

I bite down on my lower lip, trying not to laugh as he continues his ramble.

“I know you can’t judge it on porn, but still, I don’t want to hurt you because I’m all eager and excited and curious.”

“Carter.”

He blinks up at me. “Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

His relaxed grin warms me. He reaches up, both hands sliding into my hair as I lean down and kiss him. It starts off slow and sensual with lazy sweeps of our tongues, but it doesn’t stay that way. Carter moans, and he drops his hands to cup my ass. He presses me down as he rolls his hips, grinding his erection against mine.

It’s like something snaps. The kisses turn hungry, almost frantic. All nipping lips and clashing teeth.

I’m gasping for air when I ease myself up with my good hand and move further down the bed. I graze my teeth over his Adam’s apple, eliciting a hot gasp from Carter as his hand goes instinctively into my hair. His day-old stubble scratches against my lips, the sensation causing my cock to throb.

“Mmm, that feels so good.” He practically purrs as I kiss down his chest, stopping at his nipple.

I run the tip of my tongue around it before sucking it into my mouth and nipping it with my teeth. He trembles beneath me as his cock presses against my stomach, a hot iron bar branding me through his briefs. I repeat the action on his other nipple before trailing my tongue down the center of his abs, watching his muscles rippling as I descend. The soft, dark hair that runs from his navel to the band of his boxers tickles my chin.

Kneeling between his parted legs, I glance up. Carter’s watching me with heavy-lidded eyes, his full lips parted. Without taking my eyes off him, I curl my fingers into the elastic waistband, waiting for the inevitable Stop , but it never comes.

“Here,” he whispers when I struggle to pull down his underwear one-handed. He quickly lifts his hips and tugs them off, tossing them over my shoulder before lying back down.

My mouth practically waters at the sight. Carter shifts one leg, bending his knee out to provide the perfect access to his taint and balls that are sitting high and tight. His long, thick erection bobs against his abdomen, almost begging for attention as it leaves a trail of precome against his gorgeous skin.

I always knew he was packing. It kinda makes sense, being six foot five and two hundred and sixty-five pounds. It was only natural for his cock to be just as big as the rest of him.

Wetting my lips, I ask him with my eyes if I can touch him, and when he nods, I nuzzle my face into his groin, inhaling his scent and tonguing his heavy sac before licking a path up the underside of his shaft. His hips buck as I suck the swollen head into my mouth.

“Oh my fucking god, Zach,” he groans.

I massage his glans with my tongue and bob my head, taking him further into my mouth. His salty taste on my tongue lights up every one of my nerve endings.

Fuck. I’ve dreamed about this for so long.

As I suck him down, I’m hit with a bout of insecurity. The need to impress him and to make him feel good is stronger than I’ve ever felt before. Will he be comparing me to the women he’s been with in the past? Will he realize that being sucked off by a dude isn’t as good and decide it was fun while it lasted?

But before I can dwell on that thought and allow it to take root, his fingers brush my hair away from my face, and he holds it in his fist.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at that.” His voice is laced with arousal, as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing. “You’re gonna make me come.”

I whimper—fucking whimper —around his shaft, want pooling in my stomach. Relaxing my jaw, I flatten my tongue and take him in deeper. His moan is loud, and his thighs tense next to my shoulders. He’s close, really close, but so am I. I’ve been grinding my hips against the bedsheet, and one more drop of his impeccable taste down my throat will have me coming in my boxers.

I release him with a pop and rise up on my knees to remove my boxers.

“Get on top of me,” I say as I move to lie down next to him.

He follows willingly, nuzzling his face into my neck and peppering kisses along my traps.

When he lifts his head, his forehead creases in a frown. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me, Carter. Just fucking get on top of me.”

There’s a beat of hesitation before he shifts until he’s lying on me, settling his weight between my legs. He rolls his hips against mine, and the new position means our hard cocks line up perfectly. I’m unable to stop a low grunt as he grinds his length against mine.

“Fuck! I never knew this could feel so good.” His hands are in my hair again. I move my hand around to grab his ass, pulling him even closer.

“There’s lube in the drawer,” I tell him.

He quickly retrieves the bottle and pours a generous amount into his hand.

“Take us both in your hand.”

Carter does what I say and wraps his hand around our cocks and squeezes. My spine arches, toes curling into the sheet. He thrusts his hips in quick, shallow movements, and the combination of his tight fist, his husky moans, and the underside of his cock rubbing against mine causes pleasure to shoot down my spine.

I’m unable to warn him as my brain short-circuits. I come in hot spurts across his hand, my stomach, and my chest.

“Holy fuck, Zach, I’m gonna come.”

The sound of my name coming from his lips will replay in my mind on a loop for the rest of my life. His release lands against my heated skin as he strokes through his climax before coming some more. My body trembles as I come down from the highest high I’ve ever experienced.

Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve come this hard before. The lightheaded buzz in my head tells me my body needs a minute to recuperate.

“Holy shit.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “So, what’s your recovery time like so we can do that again?”

“You’re so eager,” I tease.

He nips my chin as he flops beside me, wrapping an arm and heavy leg over me. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all.” I lean down and press a kiss to his swollen lips. “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good for round two.”

His grin hits me square in the chest, and that small bout of insecurity fully disappears.

“Text me when you’re ready and I’ll come pick you up,” Carter says as he pulls my car into the practice facility parking lot the next day.

I may not be skating today, but I’m really looking forward to being back with the team and getting back a slice of normality. The boys returned from a road trip late last night, and the group chat has been blowing up all morning in excitement over the fact I’m coming in.

Luckily, my appointment with the team’s physician won’t take too long. My wrist is still in a cast for at least another few weeks before we begin intense physiotherapy to get me back on the ice as soon as possible, but today’s assessment will let me know if I can start training lower body.

Which means I’ll have more time to spend with the guys.

“You don’t need to wait around for me. I’m sure I can catch a ride with Blaine or Elliot,” I offer, knowing Carter is planning on speaking with Hayden today and hitting the gym.

The twins both live in the same building as me, and we often carpool to the rink. Blaine bought an apartment not long after I got mine, then Elliot bought one a few floors down when he was traded from Vancouver.

Carter turns slightly in his seat to face me. “No, I want you to text me. I want to pick you up.”

A small noise escapes my throat as I try not to laugh at his serious expression. “Okay, okay. I’ll text you when I’m done.” I lean over and squeeze his thigh. “Maybe we can hit up the bakery after?”

His features soften as a bright smile lights up his face. “Yeah, okay, let’s do that.”

Leaning over the center console, I give him a kiss goodbye. A quick peck because I don’t want to risk getting caught lip-locked before I’ve had the chance to tell the guys.

I get out of the car and flash him a smile before closing the door and sauntering inside. The second I head down the hallway, a wave of familiarity washes over me. The smell, the sound of skates on ice and sticks hitting pucks bring me a sense of relief. It’s only been just under two weeks, but it feels like forever. Having a bout of amnesia and consistent migraines really fucks with your sense of time.

The guys are on the ice already, running through some drills, so they don’t see me as I slip behind the bench and lean against the boards. I feel like I haven’t seen them in so long. Carter mentioned they all came to the hospital the night of the incident, but in my delirious state, I don’t remember. I also missed out on the times they came to the apartment for a visit because I was asleep.

But just being here again, feeling the chill from the ice against my skin, reminds me that it’s not always going to be this rough.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were here already.”

I turn to see Chris stepping up beside me on the bench. He’s been with the Thunder as the team’s head physician for coming up to seventeen seasons now. He’s treated me through a number of injuries, and this is just another one to add to the list. He also doesn’t like us calling him Doc, as apparently it makes him feel old.

“I’m a little early. Just wanted to…” I trail off, motioning to the ice with my hand.

“Glad to be out of the apartment, huh?” He chuckles.

“Yeah. As much as I love Carter’s company, it’s nice to be back here.”

“And how have you been feeling?” He motions to my wrist with his chin as he rests against the boards. “They’re changing the cast in a few days, right? It’s looking a little loose now.”

“Yeah, they are, and honestly? I’ve had no issues with my wrist. It’s my head that I’ve been struggling with.”

His dark brows furrow in concern. “Post-concussion syndrome?”

“Yeah. I had constant dizziness for the first few days, and I’ll occasionally have a dizzy spell, but I’ve been getting a lot of headaches. Some have completely wiped me out and given me some sensory issues.”

I hate the look of worry that crosses his face. It’s what I’ve been dreading the most.

As a defenseman, statistically I’m less likely to get my bell rung than a forward, but this is my second concussion in my professional career, and regardless of my position on the ice, I know that the more concussions I have, the higher the risk of developing post-concussion syndrome or other neurodegenerative diseases.

I love hockey. It’s been my first love for as long as I can remember. I learned to skate before I could walk. But I need to think about my future after I hang up my skates. I have Carter now in the way I’ve always wanted him, and I don’t want to risk potentially missing out on our time together once I’m done with the game.

I’m only twenty-nine, after all. I don’t want to be thinking about what happens after hockey.

But of course, Chris will be thinking about it too. While it’s his job to declare whether I’m fit to return to the ice—which won’t happen while I’m experiencing these symptoms—he will want to ensure I have a decent quality of life after I retire.

“Come, let’s have a look.”

I follow him into the training room, where he goes through the usual checks, one of them being my weight. I’ve lost a few pounds, but that’s understandable, and I make a joke that Carter will enjoy feeding me. He goes through a few concussion-related assessments, and types away on his laptop in between checks.

“Headache dependent, you’re good to begin training lower body and low-impact cardio as we don’t want any pressure being put on your wrist.” When he levels me with a pointed stare, my spine stiffens. “I would suggest speaking with your neurologist about your PCS. The symptoms can last for weeks, or even months, but it’s important they are aware too. And please don’t downplay your symptoms, Zach. Head trauma needs to be taken seriously.”

“I know.” My voice is quiet. “And I will. Speak to her, I mean.”

I move to sit on the edge of the table when the door swings open and bounces off the wall with a loud bang. Elliot storms in like the hurricane he is. He’s dressed in his Thunder-branded athletic shorts and T-shirt with calf-high socks and his most recent obsession: a pair of bright red Crocs.

I’m completely unprepared for his tight embrace as he wraps his arms around me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“I’m so glad to see you. I was so fucking scared,” he murmurs into my shoulder, and if it were possible, he tightens his hold on me even more. “You were just lying there. You weren’t moving. I didn’t know what to do.”

Carefully wrapping my arms around him, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Carter told me how Elliot was the first one to get to me when I didn’t get up from the ice after the hit and how his terrified voice could be heard from where Carter was sitting in the stands. He also came to the hospital and spent all night at my bedside with him.

To the world, Elliot always appears to be the life and energy of every room he enters, but what a lot of people don’t realize is that Elliot’s a very sensitive soul. He feels things on a deeper level than most, especially when it comes to those he cares about, so I can’t even begin to imagine how he must have been feeling.

Plus, this is the first time he’s been able to see me awake and alert since the incident.

“I’m okay,” I whisper reassuringly. “I’m gonna be all right.”

Elliot lifts his head, and his mossy green eyes shimmer with so much emotion. His breath trembles as he exhales, collecting himself. A moment later, he places his hands on his hips and scowls at me. “Don’t ever do that again. You scared the fuck out of me. I thought you were dead.”

“Hey.” I smile softly, squeezing his shoulder with my good hand. “I’m okay. Once my migraines fuck off and this heals up—” I raise my casted wrist “—I’ll be right as rain, and we’ll be back on that ice together.”

“Damn right.” He grins, and just like that, the darkness that was clouding him disappears. “I need my big D-man protecting me. So, how’s it healing up? Have they given you a time frame of when you’ll be back on the ice? Can I draw on it?”

“Sure, you can draw on it, but I’m getting a new one tomorrow. And I may be back in a couple of weeks. The cast comes off in three weeks, so they’ll probably do another scan then before we start physio.”

“Ew, physio sucks. I remember when I strained my groin, and it was not fun.” Elliot grimaces, then turns to face Chris. “Hey, Doc, you got a Sharpie? I wanna draw on his cast.”

The rest of the guys filter into the room, and I tell them everything while Elliot draws on my cast. I tell them about what the doctor said at the hospital—at least what Carter told me she said as I wasn’t fully with it—to how my recovery has been and what we’ve got planned for my return.

I tell them everything except for how things have progressed with Carter.

I don’t know why I’m being so… reserved about sharing this news with anyone. I’m hanging back in the defensive zone, not wanting to break the cycle I’ve been in since I was a teenager. I’m not worried about the guys’ reaction. I mean, shit, I think they’re half expecting it. And it’s not because I’m concerned Carter is going to change his mind, especially after yesterday.

I guess I’m not ready to share him yet, because I’ve had to share him for twenty-three years, and now he’s finally mine .

“Maybe we can have a boys’ night soon? Do it at your place?” Peyton suggests.

“Or mine,” Blaine offers. “Alex has a night out with Nate planned soon, so it’ll just be me and the dog.”

Peyton mock-gasps, his hand flailing to the side of his face. “You’re letting Alex out without you? Alone? Are you unwell?”

Blaine scowls and flips him off. “Fuck off, I’m not that bad.”

We all burst into laughter. If there’s one guy here who’s whipped, it’s Blaine.

“I’m not!” He lifts his hands in protest. “But seriously, I’m happy to host. It might be nice to get out of your apartment for a few hours. And you can bring Carter.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “We’d really like that.”

Maybe we can share the news with them then, together.