Page 38 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

Mickey awoke to the sound of his alarm.

Rafe stirred beside him and Mickey rolled over to shut off the noise. When he returned to his position spooning Rafe, Rafe made a happy little noise, then buried his face in the pillow like he had no intention of moving any time soon.

Mickey laughed softly, rubbing his nose against the back of Rafe’s neck. He was pretty damn adorable first thing in the morning, all cozy and content in Mickey’s arms.

Mickey understood it though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so light. So sure he’d made the right choice. So sure this was the start of something unbelievably good.

Last night, after watching Rafe come apart completely, Mickey had jerked off onto Rafe’s abs and chest, staring down at the marks littering his skin and the glisten of his cum in Rafe’s chest hair and thought, Yes. Mine .

The smug satisfaction must have shown on his face, but Rafe had merely beamed at him.

They’d been forced to take a second shower before they finally fixed the messy bedding and settled in to sleep.

Now, Rafe let out a pleased little noise and Mickey wondered why until he realized he’d been rubbing his hardening cock against Rafe’s ass.

He imagined waking up like this with Rafe’s hole still a little loose from the night before and pressing inside, using the remaining lube and cum from the last time he fucked Rafe to ease his way.

That wasn’t an option, not today, and definitely not until Mickey got tested. But he could certainly fuck Rafe’s thighs while he jerked him off.

Rafe let out an annoyed sound when Mickey rolled away, like he thought he was getting up.

“Just getting lube,” Mickey whispered, grabbing it from the nightstand.

Rafe’s noises turned happy again, and Mickey smiled once more, pressing a kiss to the top of his spine as he coaxed Rafe to move his knee forward to give Mickey better access.

Mickey swiped some of the gel across his cock, then pressed between those thick thighs, the space between them slick from sweat.

Together with the lube, it made for an easy glide that, along with the heat of Rafe’s body and the sounds he made, went straight to Mickey’s head, leaving him feeling a little dazed.

He slicked his hand and reached over Rafe’s hip, dragging his palm along Rafe’s shaft.

It was a little awkward using his left hand, but the sounds Rafe made were still happy and content, so Mickey kept going.

He closed his eyes and breathed in Rafe’s scent.

It was warm and a little musky from sleep.

He must have put on something scented after their shower, deodorant probably, and it was woodsy and warm.

The scent was both comforting and arousing, leaving him feeling content and eager for more all at once.

So Mickey kept fucking Rafe’s thighs and tightened his grip on Rafe’s dick, working him harder and faster, using his thumb to tease at the sensitive spot along the crown.

“Close,” Rafe choked out.

Mickey eased off, returning his strokes to slow, gentle teases that made Rafe shift restlessly on the bed, seeking more.

All the while, Mickey kept fucking into the slick tunnel of his thighs, breathing hotly against the back of Rafe’s neck and interspersing it with nibbling bites and soft licks that made Rafe squirm even more.

Mickey sped up his strokes again, toying with the head of Rafe’s cock for a while before he moved his hand lower to tug at his balls. The sounds Rafe let out, these low, quiet whimpers and groans, made Mickey even harder.

He managed to bring Rafe to the edge one more time before backing off. This time, when the urgency built for them both, he told Rafe to hold off as his own orgasm hit, biting Rafe’s shoulder to muffle his shout.

When Mickey’s head finally cleared, he was panting a little, his head pounding in time with his heartbeat. He pushed the sensation away, too intent on taking the opportunity to do something he’d been thinking about for a long time.

He coaxed Rafe onto his back, using the sheet to wipe off most of the lube before he took Rafe in his mouth. He didn’t tease at all this time, pinning Rafe’s hips down with his forearm and working him hard and fast, all while sucking and licking at the head of his cock.

Rafe was cut, so there was no foreskin to play with, but Mickey still had plenty of other wonderful spots to torment, like when he teased his tongue into the slit on the head, tasting a burst of salty-sweetness on his tongue.

“ Mickey ,” Rafe whimpered.

Mickey tore his mouth away long enough to tell Rafe to come in his mouth and a few bobs of his head later, Rafe gripped the bedsheets and released with a long, low groan, his desperation so tangible it was like Mickey could almost taste or touch it.

Mickey worked him through his release, knuckling at the sensitive spot behind Rafe’s balls after to milk a little more cum from him.

When Rafe was drained and twitching, clearly oversensitive, Mickey eased away.

Rafe let out a happy sigh, smiling dopily at him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Mickey slid up the bed, gathering Rafe close.

“I don’t think I said this last night,” he whispered. “But I want you to know, I’m falling in love with you too.”

Rafe couldn’t stop grinning as he walked to breakfast.

He knew he should be embarrassed by the marks Mickey had left all over his neck and chest. And back, and shoulders, and thighs … he thought ruefully. The team was going to give him so much shit and the coaching staff would definitely know.

He might even get fined for it.

But how could he care when he and Mickey were together, and Mickey loved him?

After the sex this morning, they’d showered together and talked about how they were going to handle everything. Rafe wouldn’t have worried about it, but Mickey wanted to be sure they were on the same page and, well, Rafe couldn’t be mad at Mickey for looking out for them both.

“Are you ready for this?” Mickey asked as they paused in front of the doors to the room where their breakfast was set up, looking up at him with a worried frown.

“Yep,” Rafe said, walking through the door. Besides, he was too hungry to wait any longer.

Mickey followed and it only took a few seconds before they were noticed. Most of the team was there, along with the coaching staff.

“Well, well, well,” Crawford drawled as he looked Rafe up and down. “You two finally got your shit together.”

“Yesss!” Tanner pumped his fist. “I fucking win! Boo-yah!”

“Okay but that’s cheating ,” Graham said, scowling as he reached into his pocket. “You live with them.”

“Pay up, boys,” Crawford drawled. “You know the rules.”

Rafe glanced over at Mickey who shrugged. “Crawford’s the fines master and it looks like Tanner won the bet on when we’d get together.”

“ When ?” Rafe asked with a frown. Shouldn’t it have been if? He wasn’t surprised by the betting itself. He’d made all sorts of weird, random bets with guys on his previous teams.

Tanner snorted. “Dude, it was so fucking obvious you two were about to break and maul each other.”

Rafe grinned at him.

Tanner threw his arms around him and Mickey, squeezing them all together in the closest thing to an off-ice celly Rafe had ever taken part in. “Happy for you guys.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, but Rafe was kinda pleased. It was nice everyone seemed cool with them being together.

Guys were still counting out money as Rafe stepped toward the buffet, ready to load his plate. He’d worked up quite an appetite last night and this morning.

Just as they finished grabbing food, Coach Rasmussen walked in the room. He looked Rafe and Mickey over, sighed, and turned away.

“Uhh, Coach,” Rafe said.

He held up one finger. “Coffee first.”

Rafe glanced over at Mickey who shrugged. But he put his hand on Rafe’s back protectively and Rafe leaned into it.

Coach Rasmussen didn’t add anything to his coffee, just took a large swig of the black stuff, piling a few pieces of dry wheat toast on his plate then raising an eyebrow at them.

He nodded his head toward the hallway, and they silently followed him down it to a room the coaches and other staff had apparently been using for a makeshift office.

Rasmussen demolished his toast, drained his coffee, then folded his hands and looked at them.

Rafe slid lower in his chair, but Mickey squared his shoulders like he was bracing for a fight.

“So,” Rasmussen said quietly. “You’re dating now?”

Rafe glanced at Mickey, then nodded. “Yes.”

“The one time I’m in charge and this happens,” Rasmussen muttered as he rubbed his hands across his face before saying in a more normal tone, “Obviously, I don’t have a problem with teammates dating.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Obviously?”

“Well, Jesse and Connor,” Rafe pointed out.

But Rasmussen hesitated. “Well yes, there’s that. But also … let’s just say I dated a teammate for a while myself, back in the day. We weren’t out about it then, but times have changed for the better.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped and a look of surprise flickered across Mickey’s face too.

“This was before I met my now ex-wife,” Rasmussen continued. “But you shouldn’t look so surprised. Gay and bi men have always existed in this league. You should hear some of the stories about Hobey Baker …”

Isn’t that the guy who the college hockey award was named after? Rafe thought he’d lived like a hundred years ago or something. There was no way Coach Rasmussen had known him.

Confused, Rafe looked at Mickey. Mickey shrugged.

Rasmussen cleared his throat. “That’s beside the point. All I’m saying is that you are free to date, of course. However, we have some concerns after what happened in yesterday’s game.”

They both winced.

“I’ll leave any disciplinary discussions for Hoyt until we’re back in Boston. However, I want to be extremely clear. I don’t want to see you lose your temper again, Mickey.”

“Yes, Coach,” he said quietly.

“And I don’t ever want to see you come out onto the ice like that again, Rafe. Not unless the entire team is heading over the boards too, do you understand?”