Page 17 of The Poster Boy (Love The Game #3)

Jay

M arek’s die-hard fans were there after the next game, shoving mics in his face and asking their twenty questions.

I was pretty sure I was the only one bothered by the amount of time he got in front of the cameras.

And not because I wanted my fifteen minutes.

No, thank you. I preferred to keep my head down and stay off the television as much as possible.

I had to admit that he was good on camera. Which is half the reason they kept shoving the camera in his face. The other half was simply because he was the face of gay players now, and the media was still able to milk a lot of clicks out of stories about him.

Marek came thundering into the dressing room looking like someone had murdered his cat.

He tore at his gear in a way that stunned the room into silence.

Boone was the first one over there. He batted Marek’s hands away and helped him with his gear.

Conversation started up again, and I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

From the second I’d found out about the trade, Myers had been a thorn in my side.

A rock in my shoe. An annoyance I couldn’t shake.

But seeing him all tied up about something pissed me off for a whole new reason.

I didn’t like seeing him like that. Myers wasn’t supposed to be angry to the point that his hands shook.

Myers was a golden retriever, not some angry, trembling chihuahua.

The buzz from our win simmered down a little because of Marek’s mood, and it wasn’t long before the Coach came into the dressing room and made a beeline for Marek.

The whole room held their breath, curious to see what Coach was going to say.

“I’m keeping you out of the media for a while, son.”

Marek shook his head. “If I don’t talk to them after games and practices, they just hound me outside the rink.”

“It’s not your call, Myers. As for the rest, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

The media loved talking to Myers whether or not he played, but he’d been in net after the first when Church tweaked a muscle. It wasn’t a serious injury, thankfully, and Myers stepped up in net, securing our win.

For the first time, it dawned on me that maybe Myers didn’t like the media attention. Maybe he was making the best of a situation that had been thrust upon him by some snoopy paparazzi.

The bad thing about road games was that I had to share a hotel room most of the time.

The last time, I’d had a room to myself because Andrew had been sick and stayed home to battle his flu.

This time I wasn’t so lucky, meaning if I wanted to meet up with Myers, strictly to see if he was okay, we’d have to sneak around.

Stretched out on my bed after the game, Andrew did the same on his side of the room.

He had his earbuds in, and he was absorbed in something on his phone.

All in all, he wasn’t a bad guy to share a room with.

Boone had wanted to share with me, but I told him that his codependency wasn’t cute.

He called me a jackass, but he saw my point.

We lived together, trained together, played together.

There wasn’t a reason to room with him too.

I pulled my phone out and opened the app where I’d first stumbled on Myers. His icon told me that he was currently online.

Hey. Good game.

The little grey dots bounced up and down for a minute before a response came through

Thanks.

He didn’t send anything after that. I let out a sigh, knowing that he was going to make me work for it.

You okay?

I’ve been better.

What’s up?

*eyeroll* because you suddenly care.

Well, that was a low blow, but it wasn’t unfair of him to say.

What if I did? Would you tell me?

Dude… did you not see the shit they pulled post-game?

Uh… no? Should I have. Never mind, going to watch now.

I pulled up the browser on my phone and searched for the post-game interview that Marek did. He was sweaty and smiling, the way he always was after a game. I glanced over at Andrew and turned the volume up a little so I could hear what was going on.

“We’ve recently learned that your parents disowned you when you came out. The fact that you managed to succeed without their support is inspiring. How did you do it?”

My guts clenched. I hadn’t known about Marek’s parents. Clearly, no one had. It was actually a fucking miracle that this wasn’t the second thing that was leaked after his brief fling with the Hollywood guy.

Marek’s expression turned to stone. The look in his eyes was colder than the ice he’d just left. “No comment.”

And then he turned his back on the cameras and stomped away, leaving the reporter there gaping like a fish at his less-than-friendly reaction.

Holy fuck. I’m sorry

It was the only thing I could think to say.

How did they even find out?

Marek answered with a shrug emoji.

Are you okay?

There was no response for a few minutes, but I found myself staring at the screen, willing one to appear.

I’d be better if I had some way to work off this mood. Got any ideas? *wink emoji*

Well, I have a roommate this time.

Amateur. Meet me in the stairwell between third and fourth.

I was on my feet and shoving them into my shoes before I could second-guess myself.

Andrew popped an earbud out of his ear and looked at me as I threw a ballcap on my head.

“Going someplace?”

“Just out.”

He gave me a sly, knowing smile. “You kids have fun now. Be safe.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“If you get her pregnant, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Some of the wind left my sails. I was out to Boone and a couple of the other guys, but not the whole team.

It would be easy enough to say something right now and correct him.

To set right the assumption that I was straight, but I let the moment pass me by.

Andrew put his earbud back in, and I headed for the door.

Slipping out into the hallway, I kept my head down and tried to look nonchalant as I headed for the stairwell.

Myers was already there waiting for me. He was dressed in all black, from his hat to the tight t-shirt he wore, to the black sweatpants that did nothing to hide how well hung he was.

He smirked at me when he caught me checking him out.

“Surely to Christ you don’t think I’m going to do this in a stairwell, Myers.”

He shook his head. “You’re such a novice.” Myers reached over and scanned a card, unlocking a door. “Housekeeping has one on every floor. I promised not to make a mess, and I need to have the card back in half an hour.”

“Do I want to know how you got that card and on such short notice?”

Myers shrugged. “Celebrity status comes in handy. And if it wasn’t you, it was going to be someone. But I’m glad it’s you.”

Myers slipped into the room, and I followed him before anyone came into the stairwell and saw us.

It was smaller than I’d anticipated, and it was stacked almost floor to ceiling with clean linens. Towels. Sheets. Facecloths. There were other things too, like those little water cups wrapped in paper and the sample soap they left in rooms. A cleaning cart was pushed against the far wall.

Then the door shut, and it was pitch black.

Myers didn’t bother with a light, and I didn’t mind that.

The second that door latched, he was on me, turning me so he could grind his cock against my ass.

Groping blindly, I finally found the shelves and braced myself as his hand reached around the front and worked its way under the waistband of my sweats.

Hot breath washed over my neck and then his mouth was there, kissing me.

He must have turned his hat around the other way because I didn’t feel the brim brush against me the way it should have.

The thought of him behind me, his hand on my dick, his cock pressed against my ass with his backwards-fucking hat made me wish that not only was there a light in here, but a camera so I could see it for myself.

Not that I was about to tell him that. It was hard enough for me to believe that I’d somehow ended up in this situation again. Horny, desperate, and in Myers’ capable hands.

On the same note, it was also not hard for me to understand how I’d ended up with him again. Not after that first time. Even in the moment, I’d known it was a mistake, but that didn’t stop me from making it. Myers had great hands, a great body, and a fantastic dick that he knew how to use.

He shoved my pants down around my thighs. I’d gone commando, not because I’d been planning on this or expecting it, though it was coming in handy, especially when Myers quietly hummed his approval in my ear.

His mouth worked magic on my neck, turning my body into softened butter for him. It was a dangerous feeling to like this so much. With him. Then Marek’s pants were down, and his cock nestled between the cheeks of my ass.

He continued stroking me, using my precum as lube to smooth the glide of his hand on my cock.

“Mmm. Love that,” Marek purred in my ear, sliding his thumb over the head of my cock, smearing precum around. “You’re leaking.”

He nipped at my ear, and I shivered, letting loose a moan that prompted him to shush me .

“You have to be quiet,” he whispered. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah.”

The crinkle of a wrapper was obscenely startling in the small space.

Myers sheathed his cock, then there was more fidgeting behind me before he slid his fingers between my cheeks and smeared lube around.

It took every bit of restraint I had to stay quiet.

Myers had great hands, and his touch felt insanely good.

My brain might still get annoyed by his existence, but my dick was sure happy he was around.

He slid a finger inside, spreading the lube around, stretching me a little to prepare me for him. But I didn’t need it. Didn’t want it.

“Just… go slow,” I told him when he pulled his finger out.

He lined his cock up with my hole and gripped my hips.

So slow that it made my breath stop, Myers entered me.

I breathed out, bore down, and though it made the slide easier, it still stretched me to my limits.

The slight burn lit me up inside. Adrenaline surged through me, and I pressed my ass back, swallowing him deeper.

Myers buried his mouth against my shoulder.

His hot breath made a damp spot on my shirt, but I didn’t care.

Not when he reached around and wrapped his hand around my cock again.

“So fucking tight,” Myers whispered as he pulled back. When he slid back in again, it pushed a moan out of me, like there was only room for him in me now and none of my sounds.

Myers wrapped his other hand around my mouth. “Shhh.” The thrust of his hips was sharp and sudden. “Be a good boy and stay quiet for me.”

Fuck my life. Fuck my whole life and fuck Marek Myers for making that hotter than it had any reason to be.

There were some moments in my life that I knew would change me even as they happened.

Like putting on skates for the first time.

My first goal. The first fight I got into on the ice.

The first and last girl I kissed. And now Marek fucking Myers calling me a good boy.

It rearranged my DNA and made my dick weep.

I hated the way I whimpered into the palm of his hand and bent at the knee to give him a better angle to fuck the sense out of me.

A stairwell door slammed shut, and the sound of echoing footsteps and laughter reached our ears.

Marek didn’t stop moving, though, and didn’t stop making sure no sound escaped me.

He kept up his slow movements. He kept his hand wrapped firmly around my mouth and his hand on my cock.

My legs started to tremble as the voices got closer.

When they faded away and the door slammed shut, Myers thrust hard, going from zero to sixty in two seconds. I desperately needed to come. Needed him to come. Needed something I couldn’t identify but knew only he could give me.

I came to the sound of his heavy breaths in my ear and the memory of him calling me a good boy.

To the feel of his cock sliding into me like it was a key unlocking all my secrets.

I came with his hand on my cock and this unmistakable feeling of rightness that flooded me and settled over me as Myers fucked me until he came.

It had to be the endorphins playing tricks on me. In an hour when the freshly-fucked feeling faded, there was no way I’d still want him.