Page 23 of Puck Shots (Love The Game #6)

Cosmo

I ’ve been pushing myself hard all week to get ready for this next game.

More so since the NHL CSS list of Players To Watch, came out.

Scouts at the games is one thing but being actually named in a list of players they’re tracking makes me more nervous than I thought it would.

There is just so much riding on this. My whole future in fact.

Coach thinks the advisors will come sniffing around now, too, but he also made it clear he wants our focus on this season.

On making the Frozen Four and possibly winning the whole thing.

That’s what I want, too, because as devastating it would be to not get drafted, It would be totally shit to lose the season on top of it.

“Did you see the media box is packed?” Luka asks, pointing up into the stands to where the media and scouts all sit ready for the match to begin.

It’s like having a giant beacon bearing down on you with them all in one spot.

Like I get it, they have a clear view of the rink from there, but fuck, what a way to put the pressure on.

But that’s what hockey is. Pressure. Pressure to get the puck first, pressure to get up to the cage, to score, to win.

My brain starts spiraling, and I strip off my gloves, shoving them under my arm before tracing along the lightning bolt I redrew on my wrist this morning.

“You look a bit green, you okay?” Luka asks, and I swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat, but my mouth is dry and it doesn’t budge much. I trace over the bolt again. My finger brushing lightly over the black ink as I try to quiet the racing thoughts of impending doom.

“Looks like your boy’s here,” Luka says, and my eyes immediately shoot up and follow his stare to where Eli is sitting. He’s three rows back, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. The second he locks eyes with me and smiles, the noise in my head silences. How does he do that?

“You can’t say he isn’t your boy anymore. Is that your jersey he’s wearing?”

“Yep,” I beam, loving the way it looks on him. He’s practically swimming in it, given its size. Thankfully, he tried it on after it was washed or I doubt it would be smelling all that nice. I sweat like a motherfucker out there on the ice.

The cool air fills my lungs as I skate out to starting positions, and when the whistle blows, my nerves fall to the back of my mind, my focus entirely on the play.

We win the opening face-off and Rover has the puck.

He passes to Luka, and I shoulder the player guarding me and take off as Luka sends it.

I pick up and zoom up the side, but there’s two of them coming at me, so when I spot Tyler on my right I shoot it over.

He collects, fakes out one defender, then shoots.

The puck bounces off the goalie’s skate and is picked up by the opposing team.

Not the greatest start but at least we’re at their end.

Luka has them tied up in the corner, sticks and skates clawing for the puck.

The number twelve elbows Luka in the face but Luka shakes it off but this guy mustn’t want to play today because he drops his gloves and grabs Luka by the collar of his jersey before laying in three quick punches.

I rush over. The crowd is cheering and hollering like a jungle roar egging him on.

The whistles are already blowing before I get there.

I pull the number seventeen out of my way and then get between the number twelve and Luka.

The linesmen get between us and take him over to the side of the rink. I turn to Luka.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Well something set him off.”

Luka smirks.

“What?” I ask, and he leans in close.

“He asked me if I liked the D, too, just like you. So I asked if he was hitting on me because he smelled delicious.”

I burst out laughing.

“You fucking didn’t?”

“What? He did. He hit me against the wall and I got a lung full.”

“Dude, you are so gay.”

“Straight guys can like smelling other guys.”

The speakers sound and call the penalty.

“Number twelve, red, five minutes for fighting and a game misconduct.”

Their supporters don’t like that, but what did they expect?

The rules are pretty strict in the NCAA.

No goons here. You throw a punch; you pay the price.

I might have been quick to get between them but I wasn’t going to actually do anything except block.

I can’t exactly impress the scouts from back in the locker room now, can I?

“Look at that. I scored us a power play.” Luka laughs.

“Now don’t waste it,” I reply, and we head into position for the face-off.

The second the puck drops, Rover sends it to Chang, who sends it back to Luka, then it’s over to me.

I send it over to Rover again, then move across the ice, but when Rover tries to pass to Luka, their number seventeen collects it and makes a dash up the ice.

I fly after him and am right there with him in what feels like two seconds.

He looks for somewhere to send it, but my stick comes down, and with the steal, I spin and take off back up the ice.

I could try for a slapshot, but Luka is moving up the left side with no one guarding him.

I shoot off the puck to Luka, he flicks it into the back of the cage.

The horn sounds, and I collide with him and Rover a second later.

“Wooo, nice shot, Luka,” Rover cheers.

“Thanks to Flash’s steal.”

“Group effort, guys,” I reply, scanning the crowd for Eli.

He’s on his feet clapping with the other supporters, a huge proud smile on his face, and my chest swells at the sight of him.

The coach calls out a fresh line, and I find I’m watching Eli more than the game as I catch my breath and wait for the next change up.

***

“You played so well,” Eli says when I find him after the game waiting outside the rink.

“Thanks,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist and kissing him. He’s still in my arms for a second but quickly relaxes and opens his mouth, welcoming my tongue.

A throat clears behind me, and I break the kiss but keep holding him close.

“I wanted to do that since I saw you in the stands.”

His cheeks are flushed, but it gains a smile in reply.

“So if you’re done making out, can we go eat? I’m starving,” Luka asks from behind me.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Eli, and he glances towards our groins, then back up, biting his lower lip.

“We’re not hungry,” I reply and release Eli only long enough to take his hand. “We’ll see you back at the house later.”

Luka chuckles but doesn’t reply, and the moment we’re through my bedroom door, my hands are quick to strip him free of the jersey.

“Is that a new rug?” Eli asks as I move onto his pants.

“Yeah, I figured we could do some extra sound proofing. I installed a lock, too.”

“You did?” he asks, tilting his head to look past me to the door.

“While I’m not opposed to public gawking, I figured you’d be more comfortable knowing Luka won’t just walk in on us.”

“Helps if you actually lock it.” He laughs, and I glance back.

“Shit,” I say, stripping off my pants on the way to the door. “It was your fault, really, what with you looking all sexy wearing my jersey.”

“It was like being wrapped in a blanket of you,” he says, and the blush returns to his cheeks as he wraps his long arms around himself, suddenly all shy.

I close the distance between us.

“I like the idea of that.”

Brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, he closes his eyes and leans into my touch.

The adrenaline of winning tonight’s game is nothing compared to the way my heart races when I touch him.

I press my lips softly to his, tiny pulses of electricity flowing between us.

His hands move to circle my waist and then dip to my ass, giving it a light squeeze.

“You have a perfect ass, you know that?” he asks a breath away.

“I think it’s alright.”

I slyly as possible make a start on inching his pants down his thighs.

“It’s better than alright. All I kept thinking of after you went back into the locker rooms was about you in the showers getting it all soapy.”

“Is that the first time you’ve imagined me naked?” I ask, taking his pants over his ass and letting them fall to his ankles. I trace the back of my fingers up his arm to his shoulder.

“No.”

I lean in and kiss his collarbone.

“What else have you imagined?”

“Being in here with you,” he replies in a whisper.

“Like this?”

“In your bed.”

“Okay,” I say, and I walk over to my bed, pulling back the covers and climb in.

“What next?” I ask and he steps out of his pants, drops his glasses to the bedside table, and climbs in beside me.

He lies back on the pillow, cheeks flushed, chest moving faster, and I prop my head on my hand to gaze down at him.

“I know what I’d like to do to you right now, but I want to hear what you imagined, if you’ll tell me.”

“There was kind of more than one time.” He smiles.

“Well, how about you tell me which fantasy you want to make come true first, and we’ll go from there?”

“First, you kissed me, slow, like I…”

“Like what?” I ask, leaning close, ready to kiss those perfect lips, but I want to wait until he tells me the rest.

“Like I was the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“That one’s easy, you are,” I say, and then my mouth is on his, his hand comes up, and fingers slide through the hair at the back of my neck, and fuck, it feels incredible.

My cock aches, resting against his leg, but I don’t give it the friction it craves, not yet. He pulls back a little, both of us slightly out of breath.

“Wow,” he says, licking his lips.

“As good as the fantasy?”

“Better.”

“What happened next?”

“Umm, we got out…a little help.”

I frown, but when he glances down to our hardening cocks, it clicks.

“Oh, right, got it,” I say and roll back and pull out a bottle of lube from the drawer.

I grab two condoms, too, and rest them on the bedside.

I don’t know where today is going, but I want him to know that if he wants to take it in that direction, I’m ready and totally up for it.

Just the thought of Eli sitting his tiny ass on top of my cock has it twitching.

“Do you want to tell me more?” I ask.

“I’ll show you,” he says instead, and he pushes the bedspread back as he lifts his knees and then drops them out to the sides. One rests against my thigh, and the sight of him lying there beside me like this is so fucking hot.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I say without thinking, but his smile takes away any nerves that had risen up in a second.

He squeezes the lube onto his hand but instead of gripping his clearly rock-hard cock, he goes past it to his hole.

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot,” I say, and he reaches up with his free hand to grip the back of my neck and pull me in to kiss him again.

I try to watch him but can’t see well out of the corner of my eye as we kiss, so I reach down with my free hand slowly, my fingers brushing over the back of his hand.

He lifts his hips a little in reply, and my finger slides between his, coating themselves in the lube and sharing in the teasing circles he’s making around his entrance.

Then he pushes one finger inside himself, and I break our kiss, sitting up to get a better look.

When his finger slides out, I move mine in, and his head arches back, a soft moan escaping his lips.

“Make me ready for you.”