Page 14 of Stubborn Puckboy (Puckboys #9)

THIRTEEN

Novi

I lead Colby into my room, trying to pretend like this is a casual hangout between friends. I know why I want him here though, and I’m certain he knows why he’s here too.

My mouth is dry as I close the door to the darkened room and then fumble for the light switch. The brighter it is in here, the easier it is to face my decision.

“So, quarters?”

I glance over at his teasing tone.

“Should we crown me the winner now, or …”

“It has been very long time since we played. I might beat you.”

Colby’s chuckle is husky and masculine. “Got any cups?”

I hold his gaze and lift the hat from my head before dropping it at our feet. I’m almost too nervous to speak. “This is how we play.” My hand plunges into my pocket, and I grab one of the quarters there. “Who goes first?”

“You. I’m a gentleman like that.”

Colby sits, and I grab the bottle of vodka stashed in my bag before lowering myself opposite him. Memories of that night flood back to me. His sweet, round cheeks. The cocky glint to his eyes. How he laughed so freely.

Neither of us is laughing now.

Colby’s watching me with the type of curious hunger I feel in my bones. It’s about the only thing overtaking my nerves because as much as I want this, I’m scared it won’t happen. Or it won’t be good. Or I’ll forget what I’m supposed to be doing.

He wets his lips, and it takes everything not to kiss him on them right now.

Since that night with him, I have practiced quarters like a man possessed. If someone could play, we’d play, and now, I am quarters king.

Which is why I know, when I take my shot and the coin veers off to the left, that it was on purpose.

Colby gives me that crooked grin as I take a swig from the bottle. “Have you gotten worse ?”

“I never get worse.”

He grabs the quarter, lines it up confidently, and then pauses. Colby’s eyes flick to mine for a fraction of a second, right before he takes the shot.

And he misses.

“Ooops?” His fingers brush the back of my hand as he takes the bottle from me. “I’m rusty.”

“Rusty. Da.” I watch the way his throat arches back as he takes a sip and then follows it up with a muffled cough.

“That’s fucking nasty.”

“American vodka is not strong enough, so my sister sends me the good stuff. My uncle makes it.”

“I better not miss any more shots, or I’ll end up passed out on the floor.”

We will stop before then. Much, much before then.

All I need is enough of the alcohol to switch off that worried voice in my head.

I am a confident, easygoing person, but this is a big thing.

A weight I have carried since that night I looked into his eyes and knew my life would always be different.

That I would never get to have the free-spirited future I always saw for myself.

It has been all secrets, holding back and ignoring my needs above everything else.

I am tired of it all.

Surely I deserve this one moment of weakness.

My next quarter flings off to the right. “Ooops,” I copy him. Then I take the bottle, trapping his hand under mine as I lean forward and lift the drink to my lips.

Colby’s eyes darken as I watch them and take a long sip. The harsh liquid slides down my throat, warming me from the inside out.

“Your turn.”

He gets this one in.

I miss.

And miss.

And miss.

The edge in my personality finally starts to soften.

“You’re going to get drunk,” he warns.

“There you go underestimating me again.”

His laugh is cute, and his eyes crinkle as he buries a hand into that messy black hair. “I don’t think I’ve underestimated you a day in your life.”

I lean in closer, wanting those lips and ready to take them.

Instead, Colby flops backward onto the floor. “Don’t look at me like that, Novi. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I only hesitate for a second before I lean over him. “I know.”

“Novi …”

I rest one hand by his head, waiting for a sign, anything to say I can move closer. My heartbeat is loud in my ears, and I want this like I have never wanted anything.

The first time I got the courage to visit a glory hole, I was terrified. When it was over, I stood in that stall for way too long, trying to work out what the hell I had done. It was not at all the euphoric high I thought it would be.

I’m not scared now.

Not with Colby.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

With a heated look, I reach into my pocket and pull out another three quarters. I take aim for my hat and bounce all three perfectly into it.

Colby’s mouth is hanging open. “You …”

He looks back up at me, and when his gray eyes meet mine, I decide they might be my favorite color I have ever seen. Colby’s hands bunch in my shirt, and I don’t know who moves first.

I dive on his mouth as he arches toward me, and no matter how ready I am, nothing can prepare me for his skin touching mine. I hover for a moment, tasting his lips, feeling the way they mold to mine, the want we exchange with every firm touch …

And then I lose it.

I flatten Colby to the floor, bringing our bodies together, and all that hard muscle under me does more than vodka ever could.

His lips part against my tongue, and I forget to be self-conscious, forget I have never done this before.

I kiss Colby in a way that feels like the most natural thing I have experienced.

When my fingers twist in his hair, it is as easy as a slap shot.

When our hard cocks rut together, it is as instinctive as slamming a player into the boards.

And when our tongues meet, when he feeds me his hunger and I give him mine back, it’s that out-of-body high I felt the first time I hoisted the Stanley Cup.

Kissing Colby might be better than hockey.

The warm blast of his mouth, the strong feel of his tongue, the rough scrape of his stubble against my skin. I’m swimming in an oxygen-deprived bliss.

Seventeen years, I’ve waited for this. Seventeen long fucking years.

Colby’s hands close over my hips and guide me, rocking down against him. I’ve completely lost control and given myself over to him because this is all too good to think it through. To worry about what comes next.

My free hand finds the bottom of his shirt, and I reach up under it, hand splayed over abs, skin, the light hair that brushes my palm.

I grunt into his mouth, and suddenly, it’s wrenched from me as Colby shoves my shirt up over my head. I’m quick to follow him, desperate to feel his bare chest pressed against me, maybe feel if his heart is racing as quickly as mine.

As our mouths come together again, Colby flips us, pressing my back to the carpet and slotting between my legs. His hips are a slow, sensual roll against mine, teasing my cock to full hardness but not getting me where I want to be.

Until he reaches for my fly. He pauses our kiss, just for a second, and I arch up toward his hand. Encouraging more. Begging to move faster.

My zipper slides down, and with one rough hand, he tugs my pants and underwear to my thighs. He goes to reach for his own, but I stubbornly take over. I might not have experienced this before, but I’m a man who knows what he wants, and my nerves have long gone.

My hands brush the hard ridges of his cock as I undo his pants and pull him out. The silky skin is slippery with precum and hot to the touch. He’s as achingly hard as I am, and as I stroke my hand over it, Colby’s breathing gives a hitch.

His forehead meets mine, and he’s panting like I am, breath tickling my wet lips.

“Years …” he says, a hitch in his voice. “I’ve pictured that night going like this for years.”

“Me too,” I admit, voice hoarse. “So show me the rest of your fantasy.”

Colby spits into his hand and brings our cocks back together. Then he wraps us tight in his grip.

He’s confident with touching me, driving my body wild with want, and it reminds me of younger him. Cocky beyond annoying on the ice. Only this time, he has the skill to back it up.

My vision bursts with stars as I tug his mouth back to mine.

The kiss is aggressively needy. Our bodies are twisted together, all hard edges and muscle touching everywhere we can physically touch.

The way he confidently moves against me, with firm strokes and frantic thrusts, turns me on more than I ever thought it could be possible.

I’ve never dared imagine this in so much detail. Never thought to picture how his sweat would feel against mine. Never pictured the way our balls would brush or his glutes would flex under my grip. Never imagined his leg hair coarse against my thighs, or the deep breathing, or bruising kisses.

I tighten my hold on his ass, tipping up into his fist, faster and harder with each thrust. My other hand finds his hair, fingers twisted through the strands, keeping him in place as I kiss him like it might be the last time.

It cannot be the last time.

I never knew how much I needed this.

Colby’s hips shudder, and his teeth graze my bottom lip. “Close, Novi. So close.”

My balls are so tight they’re almost painful. “Da. I’m ready.”

I suck on his tongue as I fuck his fist, chasing something I’ve never experienced.

An orgasm is one thing. Sex, touching, kissing, indulging in a man’s body … I’ve never been this horny before.

My orgasm builds, burning deep in my gut, cock thickening with pleasure, before it all crashes into me.

I moan as I come, filling his fist with my release, and he’s not far behind.

His whole body jerks as Colby’s cum spurts onto my abs.

It’s euphoric and surreal, lasting long enough for me to remember every smile he’s ever given me.

Every look. Every pillow he’d throw at me from across the room to get me to stop snoring.

And as our past friendship flashes before my eyes, he finally collapses against me.

Hair is plastered to the sweat on my neck, our lungs are greedily gulping down air, and my lips feel bruised. Tender, like he’s kissed them raw.

“Holy … shit …” he gasps.

You’d think between Russian and English, I’d be able to find words for what happened, but I’m empty.

He pulls back. “Novi? Are you okay?”

“I am everything. The best sex you have ever had, da?”

“Da.” He brushes his lips with mine. “Well worth the wait.”