Page 16

CHAPTER 16

JETT

“So you’re teaching the scientist how to play hockey?” Ty asked, skating backward, his stick poised and ready for my pass. “I thought he was collecting data from you. Not the other way around.”

Brady flew by on my left. “I saw you two at the Depot yesterday.”

“You spend a lot of time with him…teaching hockey.” Langley motioned for me to hurry up and pass. “Gimme the fuckin’ puck, Erickson.”

“How do you teach someone hockey at a diner?” Brady puzzled.

“You quiz them on terminology and shit like that. Look lively, gentlemen,” I taunted, passing to Brady…because he wasn’t ready and I derived sick pleasure in watching him scramble after the puck while Langley growled in frustration.

Petty? Me?

“You’re an asshole, Erickson.” Langley snorted, tapping his stick to mine good-naturedly as Coach blew his whistle, signaling the end of practice. “Hey, party at my place after the game tomorrow. Bring your new friend.”

He was teasing but also…not.

Langley wouldn’t care who showed up to one of his keggers. The more the merrier. He was genuinely friendly to everyone. But showing up to a party with Malcolm was different than hanging out at the rink. People would wonder who he was to me. I could hear them already, What’s with you and the physics dude?

I didn’t think Malcolm would be into that, but what did I know? I didn’t think he’d agree to an impromptu hockey lesson, and that had happened. I’d been as surprised as my buddies, maybe more so. Malcolm hadn’t been anxious, and he hadn’t tripped over his skates, either. He’d been perfectly fine taking pointers from my teammates. It had been a weird case of my worlds mixing and nobody giving a flying fuck, and it had thrown me off guard. But damn, it was kind of cool.

Maybe he’d been distracted by his good news, or maybe he’d liked being outside of his comfort zone.

Or maybe he felt as safe with me as I did with him.

I hoped so.

* * *

Knock knock

I slicked my damp hair from my forehead and opened the door for Malcolm. He held a bag up like an offering, skirting around me.

“I brought aphrodisiacs,” he announced.

“Excuse me?”

“Strawberries, Fig Newtons, and a bar of chocolate. I wasn’t sure how you felt about oysters, pomegranates, or watermelon, but those foods are rather messy to eat. Not that I think we’ll need them, but they couldn’t hurt,” he commented, tripping over his feet and barreling into the lamp on the end table.

“Hey, are you okay?” I steadied the lamp and set the grocery bag on the table.

“Fine, fine, yes…fine.” Malcolm pulled his glasses off, rubbed them on his V-neck sweater, put them on his nose, then wiped his palms on his khakis.

Nope. Not fine at all.

“So…what’s an aphrodisiac?”

Okay, I knew the definition, but I also knew that sharing knowledge was Malcolm’s jam and that he’d relax faster with a “teaching moment” than if he were told to chill.

“Glad you asked. Aphrodisiacs are substances that enhance sexual performance and enjoyment. As with all things, everyone is different. I, personally, find oysters revolting. Too slimy for my taste. I don’t like clams either, which is strange because I love clam chowder soup. Do you like clam chowder? My mom makes a wonderful?—”

I grabbed his shoulder and crashed my mouth over his, sliding my tongue inside and kissing the hell out of him. He sighed and wrapped his arms around my neck as I pulled him close, cupping his ass and angling my head to deepen the connection. He hummed, breaking the kiss with a dreamy sigh.

“Hey, listen up.” I grazed my thumb along his lower lip. “We’re not going to do anything you won’t like. I promise. And if you change your mind and don’t want to do anything at all, that’s okay too. We can watch a movie or find some Star Trek reruns.”

Malcolm bit his lip and shook his head. “I think too much. It’s not good for me sometimes.”

“I do that too.” I stepped toward the table and sifted through the grocery bag, pulling the package of Fig Newtons out. “I didn’t know these things made your dick hard.”

“Technically speaking, it’s supposed to be figs on their own, but I could only find the cookie version. That might have been an impulse purchase of the “eat your feelings” variety, because I honestly can’t think of a less sexy food than a Fig Newton.”

I agreed, but I tore at the plastic wrapping anyway and pulled out a cookie. “Let’s try one and see what happens.”

I held it to his pursed lips, barely containing a needy groan as he darted his tongue out, opened up and bit into the soft outer layer. He lowered his eyelids to half-mast, rescuing a crumb at the corner of his mouth.

And what do you know…my cock swelled in my sweats.

Malcolm chewed thoughtfully. “Do you think it’s working? Maybe I need to eat the whole thing.”

“Trust me, it’s fucking working,” I rasped.

He glanced down on cue. “Oh. So I see.”

“What are you gonna do about this?”

“What can I do?” he asked, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip.

The faux-innocent act sent another pulse of desire south. The tent in my sweats was impressive by anyone’s standards now.

“You’re smart, Maloney. You’ll think of something.”

He didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees, yanked my sweats and boxer briefs out of the way, and did his best impression of a Hoover.

Over the past month or so, blowjobs had been on the menu almost daily. We’d become experts at reading each other. Malcolm knew what I liked, and he got me closer to the finish line faster than anyone ever had. But I didn’t want to come yet, and I didn’t think he wanted that either.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled his head away. His saliva-slicked lips rested on the tip of my cock, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

“Should we bring the cookies to the bedroom?”

I barked a laugh and helped him to his feet. “No cookies, just you and me.”

We undressed in our usual flurry, leaving clothes like a trail of breadcrumbs to my room and falling into bed in a tangle of limbs with our mouths fused. We were both hard and leaking precum, and the slide of our dicks was heaven. For the record, we came like this all the damn time, pressed together, panting and swaying as we licked, sucked, and nipped.

I loved the smell and taste and feel of him in my arms, but I wanted everything. I wanted inside.

And no, ass play wasn’t a new development, but the most I’d done was tap Malcolm’s hole with the pad of my thumb, teasing his pucker while I played with his balls. He’d liked it, though. If I hadn’t been so strung out every time we ended up here, I might have pushed for more. I hadn’t wanted to hurt him or take what he wasn’t ready to give. We had to be on the same page.

Tonight, we were.

Or…wait.

Malcolm sat up abruptly, heaving as he squirmed out of my reach. “Halt. We need to have a discussion.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. I just want you to know that I’ve done this before…had anal intercourse, I mean. I’m not inexperienced, and there’s no need to treat me with kid gloves,” he said in a rush.

“Uh…okay.”

“I like all positions, however, my favorite is missionary followed by doggy style.”

“Doggy style?” I repeated, willing the brain fog to fade so I could keep up with the conversation.

“The one where one partner is on the bed or floor or on horizontal surface really and the other takes him from?—”

“I know what it is. Thanks. Anything else?”

“Three more things: One, I was recently tested and my results were negative for all STDs, etcetera. I know you’ve also been tested, so as long as I’m your only sexual partner, we can opt to not use a condom. Am I your only sexual partner?” Malcolm quirked a cautious smile. “That’s a side question. Two, I don’t mind it rough, but don’t choke me. I was with someone who attempted that and I panicked, pushed him off, and kicked him in the balls. It was a bad date. He was a colleague, and our paths crossed frequently. We can put that on the list of awkward things I’ve done. Lastly, I can take up to three fingers without batting an eyelash.”

I gripped my cock, stroking absently as lust warred with humor. “Okay…good. No condom, no choking, three fingers, and yes…you’re the only one I’ve been with in months.”

I almost told him that I had no desire for anyone but him…that I’d been to parties and had received a few offers for a good time. I’d had no interest at all. Why would I? I had Malcolm in my bed and?—

“ Phew. Oh, I like rimming too,” he added, adjusting his glasses. “Giving and receiving.”

Holy shit.

“Excellent,” I commented in a shockingly even tone, still jerking my pole. “I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

Malcolm scoffed. “Of course, I do.”

“Good. I want you on your hands and knees. Show me that hole, baby.”

He obeyed while I fumbled for the bottle of lube I kept in the nightstand. I set it on the mattress and scooted behind him, taking in the incredible view. Malcolm was on the thin side, but his ass was a perfect bubble butt. I wanted to squeeze his cheeks, pinch them, pull them apart and lick him.

So I did.

He moaned, dropping his face onto the pillow. I reached between his spread legs to jack him as I flattened my tongue over his entrance…again and again. I poked the tip inside, flicking it. And that was when he started begging.

“More, more, more.”

I pushed a finger in, grazing his prostate. His knees shook and yeah…I loved that. I wanted him wild for me. I wanted him so horny and so tuned in to my touch that the rest of the world disappeared. It was only us here. Nothing else mattered.

I added a second digit…and a third, adding more lube.

“Turn over,” I commanded, sitting on my heels as I greased up and crawled between his thighs.

Christ, he was beautiful. Lean and compact, smudged glasses, freckles, and full parted lips. His pretty eyes were on me, watching as I lined my cock at his pucker and pushed. A flash of pain marred his features. His jaw tightened, but he grabbed my ass before I could pull away.

“I’m okay. Keep going,” Malcolm whispered.

I inched forward, my arms trembling on either side of his head until I finally bottomed out. I wiped sweat from his brow and kissed his forehead, unthinking.

“Can I move? No hurry. I mean…I’m dying here, but I won’t do anything unless you’re ready.”

He smiled at that. “I’m ready.”

Thank fuck . I set a slow pace that nearly killed me, sliding out and surging deeper at each pass. Malcolm arched and wound his legs around my hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. Our steady rhythm morphed into a wicked slap of skin on skin. The room echoed with the squeak of bedsprings, grunted gasps, and nasty sweet nothings.

Yeah, that was me. I was a talker. “God, I love this hole. So tight, so fuckin’ hot. Tell me it’s mine.”

“It’s yours, it’s yours,” he cried out, tugging his dick as I fucked him hard and dirty.

“Eyes open. I want to see you come for me. Are you coming?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Jizz jetted across his lower abs, but I didn’t stop. I bucked and pistoned, grasping his shoulders for purchase as pleasure tingled along my spine. His hole quivering around my cock was too much, though. White lights blinked and pleasure tickled my spine and…I was a goner.

I roared like a wild beast, pumping everything I had into him.

It took a lifetime to catch my breath and float to Earth. My gaze swept over his chest, his semi, and the space where we were still joined.

My skin was a few shades darker than his, my thighs were more muscular, my chest was hairier. I had tattoos, and he was a blank canvas…miles of smooth surface dotted with adorable freckles. We looked good together, I mused…complementary opposites.

“Are you okay?” I asked, slowly pulling out.

“ Mmm . Yes.”

“Shit, we made a mess. Be right back.” I fetched a towel and a couple of water bottles.

We cleaned up and settled next to each other, my knee nudged between his.

“We’re good at this,” Malcolm commented in his most matter-of-fact voice.

“We are. This is where I say we should have been doing this all along.”

“Maybe so.”

“I kind of like that we didn’t. It felt…perfect.” I winced, scrubbing my hand over my face. “Meh…don’t listen to me. I say stupid shit when I’m wrung out in a sex haze.”

He grinned. “Understood. But if it’s any consolation…I agree. This was perfect.”

It was.

And I wondered why—why him, why this, why now? No, this wasn’t a hearts-and-flowers sentimental bullshit moment. I didn’t do those. But I felt something for Malcolm that teetered between friendship and an unknown quantity I wasn’t prepared to examine. It had been there for a while, and lying here with him naked in a dimly lit room that smelled like sex made it difficult to shy away from the truth.

I really liked Malcolm. I liked his smile, his honesty, his odd mix of gullibility and genius, and I liked the way he looked at me…as if I were someone special.

Me.

Not the me who played hockey. Just me. I could get used to that look.