Page 99 of Heartbreak Hockey

“I hope to fuck you’re not asking someone else.” I slap the counter, so he knows where to put his ass. “Okay, but I just disinfected this,” he says planting himself anyway.

I step between his legs. “Hi, by the way.” My voice is rough.

His lips spread into a shy smile. “It’s not fair that your voice can go from bossy bunny to sexy beast in the space of five minutes.”

I raise a brow. “Bossy bunny?”

“Something one of my dads says. Anyway, I’m going to kick your ass at Valentine’s Day. I’m gonna win it,” he says.

That does it. The competitive monster inside surfaces. “If it’s a competition, then we need parameters and then I’ll kick your ass into the ground.”

“‘Course it’s a competition. One I’m going to win because the first rule is, if you get help, you lose five points.”

He’s not fucking winning. “Fine. Rule two, you get five points if it involves mind-blowing sex.”

“Easy. All our sex is mind-blowing.”

“Yeah, but it has to be something new that we’ve never tried before.”

We spend the next five minutes coming up with ridiculous rules for our new game that we’re both hellbent on winning until it devolves into kissing and then me shoving my hand down the back of his sweats. “You’re not wearing boxers,” I say against his lips.

“Though it’d just be easier.”

“Good call.”

Neither of us spends a whole lot of time in clothes in this condo. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, inhale his fresh scent—they must have been doing laundry at his place—and take my time running fingers over his hot skin, under his t-shirt.

Jack’s body is like finely sculpted clay. The sports-specific workout sessions and in-season training have deepened the lines of his muscles. And God I fucking love how sexy he is, but I can even see myself loving his body when the lines disappear and the hard definition softens with age. He’s got the blessed complexion of a twenty-four-year-old now, but one day there’ll be lines under his eyes and for the first time I can see myself growing old with someone.

Jesus Christ Merc, it’s way too soon for thoughts like that.

He moans as I suck on his neck and grab his dick at the same time. I’m leaving him a nice big hickey before I fuck him over his counter, then on the sofa, and then on the floor …

Then a terrible thought hits me. “We play Boston on Valentine’s Day.”

He laughs. “Yep. Maybe my gift to you is gonna be less penalty minutes. You gotta admit, that would be pretty special and a feat only a God could pull off.”

I nuzzle and nip at his neck like he’s a bone and I’m a damn fucking dog, but he tastes so good. “I’m not gonna hold my breath on that one.”

Just as quickly as I remember about the Boston game, I forget it, losing myself in a fog of dizzying lust for Jack. I need his dick in my mouth. I wanna see him lose his mind. I wanna taste more of his skin.

In one fluid motion, I yank him off the counter and then his sweatpants down to his knees. Each of his quads is clearly defined with the veins popping and running like roads on a map over creamy skin. Sinking down, I grip the globes of his moon-shaped ass and squeeze as a swallow up his bobbing cock.

A foot steps back and his hands find the lip of the counter for stability. I glance up, but only to pin him with a look I know he calls lustful carnivore because he swears I’m going to eat him alive.

Maybe I will, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem with that, offering himself to me like the feast he is.

I swipe the bead of pre-cum off his angry red tip. It’s a salty hit to my tongue. “How long have you been hard for?” I take a nice long lick of his shaft, making sure to play with the blue vein running down the front.

“S-Since—fuck that feels good, Merc. Since this fucking morning when I woke up from a dream of you doing … what you’re … fuck that’s good.” He can barely speak. None of his words form proper sentences.

That’s good.It’s right where I want him. Besides, I’ve got enough to draw conclusions. “So, you’ve been hard and aching this whole time while we cleaned?”

“Yeah, but as if you weren’t too. I saw your dick through your pants.”

“Naughty, staring at my crotch like that.”

His lips form a laughing smile. “Not half as naughty as the depraved stares I got from you. Seriously, Merc, you got a cleaning fetish or something? ‘Cuz you were turned on a lot through that ordeal.”