Page 56 of Slew Foot (Scoring Chances #3)

“I thought you could use something nice right now. You’ve seemed … I mean, I think talking about what you’re going through has helped but you’ve still seemed kinda down.”

“I am,” Mickey agreed. “But I’m trying to be hopeful.”

“I know.” Rafe smiled at him. “But I figured cake couldn’t hurt.”

“No, it can’t,” Mickey agreed. He took Rafe’s hand, towing him toward the bedroom while he carried the plate of cake slices in the other. “So the question is, do we want cake and then sex or the other way around?”

Rafe pulled off his shirt. “Cake, sex, cake?” he suggested, his tone hopeful.

Mickey laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

They stripped down to their shorts, then settled on the bed. The cake was firm enough to pick up and eat with his hand and for a moment he stared at it, transported to his grandmother’s kitchen and the comforts of home and family.

But Rafe—and yes, even Tanner—were family now too. They were a part of Mickey’s comfort and home. If it wasn’t for them, Mickey wasn’t sure he could have made it through this. He couldn’t have done it without Catherine O’Shea and Connor and Jesse’s quiet support either.

And he thought even if the worst did happen, even if he couldn’t play again, he’d be okay. It would be hard, but he’d get through it. He’d figure it out.

“Is the cake okay?” Rafe asked. He sounded anxious.

“It’s perfect ,” Mickey whispered and took a bite.

And it was. From the soft but slightly chewy base to the sharpness of the sweet-sour plums and the hints of sugar and cinnamon, it was everything Mickey remembered.

And more.

He offered a bite to Rafe who ate it, looked thoughtful as he chewed, then said, “Yeah, it’s good but I’d like it to be sweeter.”

“You’re sweet enough,” Mickey said with a soft laugh. He set the plate with the unfinished slices on the nightstand, then stretched out over Rafe’s body.

“Yeah? You feel up to this?” Rafe asked, somehow looking both eager and worried.

“I’ve got some whooshing going on,” Mickey admitted. “And I’m a little dizzy. If I get worse, I’ll tell you, okay?”

“Okay,” Rafe agreed.

Mickey threaded his fingers through Rafe’s, stretching his arms overhead as he kissed him. He tasted of cinnamon and plum and Mickey plundered his mouth for more until Rafe was moaning and squirming underneath him.

When he sat back, the world didn’t go totally swimmy in front of his eyes, so he reached for the cuffs and lube in the nightstand.

“Yeah?” Rafe asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” Mickey said with a grin. “I think it’s about time.”

Rafe sighed happily as Mickey carefully fastened them around his wrists and checked to be sure they were comfortable and not too constricting.

“If you don’t like them, all you have to do is tell me to stop and I’ll undo them,” Mickey promised him.

“They feel great,” Rafe said, wiggling a little. “But I will. Besides, I know you’ll always look out for me.”

That was certainly true, Mickey thought as he stripped Rafe’s shorts and underwear off and settled between Rafe’s spread thighs.

But Rafe had also been looking out for him lately and that meant more to Mickey than he could ever put into words.

He’d have to find them someday. He’d have to tell Rafe what his support meant, but right now, there were other ways to speak.

Other ways to show Rafe what he meant to him.

Mickey began by slicking his fingers and toying with the rim of Rafe’s hole.

He let out a happy moan, squirming a little as if trying to encourage Mickey to push inside.

“ Behave ,” Mickey chastised, lightly slapping his inner thigh.

Rafe shivered. “Okay.”

He held very still for a few minutes as Mickey rubbed and teased at his opening. But by the time Mickey slid a finger inside, he was moaning louder, his hips rising and falling with every gentle thrust Mickey made inside.

And he really went wild when Mickey grazed his prostate with the pad of his middle finger.

“Oh fuck,” Rafe said, his abs tightening. “Close! Close!”

Mickey eased off.

Rafe shuddered. “Sorry. Just super on edge today.”

Mickey gave him a wicked little grin. “You say that like I don’t love taking you to the edge over and over again.”

Rafe whimpered.

“I think maybe I need to invest in some new restraints though,” Mickey said as he corkscrewed his fingers in and out of Rafe’s body. “Something that’ll keep all of your limbs tied down.”

Rafe gave Mickey a heavy-lidded look from under his lashes that made him chuckle.

Mickey continued to open him up, drinking in the eager rise and fall of Rafe’s hips, the sweet, clinging heat of his body.

Rafe was beautiful to look at. Incredibly sexy with his dark hair and dark stubble. With the cut of his hips and the ridged muscles of his abdomen, he looked like a statue hewn from a single slab of stone, lovingly carved and honed.

It was heady having someone like Rafe stretched out on their bed cuffed and helpless underneath him. Rafe was so big, so solidly built. Mickey thought of the power in his strides as he skated across the ice, the force he used to flatten opponents against the boards.

All of that power leashed, for Mickey.

If Mickey told Rafe to do something he would. He’d do it without hesitation. With the ultimate trust Mickey would lead them both where they wanted to go.

But in the end, it wasn’t Rafe’s body or even his willingness to let Mickey tell him what to do that made Mickey love him. It was his kind heart, his sense of humor, his thoughtfulness.

It was the way he gave his whole self over to loving someone.

“I changed my mind,” he whispered, sliding his fingers free from Rafe’s body, then stretching out over him.

A flicker of worry crossed Rafe’s face and Mickey soothed it away with soft kisses to his face. “Not about you. Never about you.”

He’d had a fantasy about what it would look like, be like, the first time he fucked Rafe. But right now, this wasn’t about fantasies or control. It wasn’t about restraint. It was about being close to Rafe, about showing him how much he loved him.

He sat back long enough to slick his cock, then press one of Rafe’s thighs back and up. “Is this okay?” he asked, his cock poised at Rafe’s entrance.

“ Please .”

Mickey pressed forward.

Despite the time he’d taken opening Rafe up, he was so tight, the inner walls gripping Mickey’s cock until he was almost lightheaded with it. It wasn’t the vertigo. It was the feel of Rafe. The heat of his body and the way he looked up at Mickey so trustingly.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” Mickey asked as he began to rock his hips, pushing in a little before withdrawing part of the way, then pushing in again. A slow, steady movement that allowed him to work deeper and deeper into Rafe.

“ Yesss …” Rafe’s lashes fluttered shut and Mickey’s heart squeezed at the sight of him. At how perfectly trusting he was. At how thoroughly he gave himself over to Mickey.

Mickey leaned in, bracing his free hand on the bed beside Rafe’s ribs and sped up a little. He could hear every soft, punched-out breath Rafe released, every tiny whimper in the back of his throat.

And then Rafe was clenching around him, gasping out a desperate, “close, close,” in his ear.

Mickey froze, not moving a muscle as Rafe trembled beneath him, clearly fighting for control. His face was a little ruddy by the time he stilled, panting lightly.

Tension rippled through Rafe’s body, and he let out a little gasp. “Fuck it’s so much.”

Mickey understood because he felt it too. He too was overwhelmed by the connection between them, at how it felt to be inside Rafe. He wanted this now and in the future.

Forever, if he was lucky.

And Mickey’s eyes pricked because he felt overwhelmed, stunned by the depth of his feelings for Rafe.

“It’s okay,” he assured Rafe. “It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

Mickey began to move again, the slow, deep thrusts turning quick and shallow.

It wasn’t long before Rafe came apart, crying out Mickey’s name, body trembling. A few minutes later, Mickey was coming apart too, overwhelmed, free-falling into pleasure.

After, he uncuffed Rafe’s hands and rolled to the side, bringing Rafe with him. Their bodies were still joined and Mickey pressed a kiss to Rafe’s pec, right over the steady thrum of his heart.

It was a silent promise, a vow , really, to take care with Rafe. To never, ever take that love for granted.