Page 5 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

FIVE

SEABORN

W e are down by one going into the third period, and all the guys are fired up. Coach Hawke gave us a great pep-talk before coming over to me.

“How are you feeling?” he asks subtly, like I don’t know what he wants.

“I’m good.”

“You want to take him for the third?”

I should say no—I’m too mad to handle him well. But he’s figured out the double team thing, and I know he’ll keep scoring if I don’t step up. But it’s a bad idea when I’m like this because he can easily push my buttons.

“Can you handle it?” The subtle undertone of his question shines through.

“I can handle it.” And maybe I should be more honest, but I have to. If we are going to win this game, it’s my only choice.

“I’ve missed you, gorgeous,” Ktytor says the moment we’re on each other.

“You’re not getting to me today.” I keep up with him easily.

His fatigue shows after fighting against two of our guys for the first two periods. “How you tease me, ladybug. I’ll draw you out.”

We’re more physical than we’ve ever been, ramming into each other, and even with my pads on, the contact gets to me. Every time we slam together, I’m taken back to the parking lot for a millisecond. How his body felt against mine while he kissed me.

Why the fuck is he affecting me so much? I don’t even like men.

“You like when I’m pressed against you, don’t you?”

I shove off him, battling for the puck. “Your over-inflated ego needs a break.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

“You don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” I shove away from him, going after the puck. I steal it and send it down the wall.

He pauses, which is unlike him. “I can smell it on you.” His words sink their way into my skin, penetrating far too deep.

What the fuck happened to my thick skin? How did he find a way under it?

I shove it to the back of my mind. We need to even up the score. That needs to be my focus, and I can help by stealing the puck as much as possible while preventing Ktytor from scoring.

We jostle back and forth, and every possession becomes a fight. I keep a lid on my anger, but I feed on his frustration. Is this how he feels? No wonder he loves getting me all riled up.

Preventing him from scoring becomes my life. Wolfe and I trap him between us, and when Wolfe snatches the puck, Ktytor curses.

He sends it up the side to Cox, and I grin at Ktytor before taking off down the ice. He growls, sprinting after me, but we’re too late. Cox spins around his defender then passes it to Ridgeway, who slams it into the back of the goal.

I throw my arm in the air. “Yes!”

“Lucky shot,” Ktytor scoffs.

I spin on him. “We are just as good as you.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” he says with such a smugness, it tells me he really believes it.

Fucking Monsters. Such arrogant bastards.

Ktytor gets taken out, and Coach does the same, giving me a break.

I drink some water and take a minute to breathe before we’re both back in.

He comes out with a fire under his ass. I don’t think he’s ever had a bad game, but I’ve never seen him play like this before.

He found some reserve of energy, and we get even rougher.

He knocks me on my ass next play, clear tripping, but the ref fucking ignores it. Thankfully, Wolfe blocks his shot.

“Do you want me to take him for a bit?” Archangel asks, offering me a hand.

“I’m fine,” I say through my teeth.

“I don’t fucking believe you.” Archangel shakes his head. “He’s playing like a cunt. Everyone can see that. Anyone would lose their cool.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He searches my face. “Don’t get put in the box.”

I thought I could handle it, but Ktytor pushes every single one of my buttons. I hold it together until he hits me in the ribs—it’s a cheap shot.

Pain cuts through all the control I have. I’m about to throw down when Wolfe comes between us.

“Not right now,” he hisses.

I breathe slowly, each inhale sending knives stabbing between my ribs, but I reel myself back in.

“You okay, doll?” Ktytor says when I’m on him again. “Do I need to kiss it and make it better?”

“Go fuck yourself. You’re taking cheap shots because you can’t get to me.”

“Hardly.” His gaze meets mine for just a second before his team feeds the puck to him. He forces his skate back, slamming the back of his boot into mine while flailing and falling backwards.

The ref instantly intervenes, calling tripping.

“Are you kidding me? He threw himself backwards!”

“If you want to accuse me of something, I’ll fucking do it,” Ktytor says with a smirk.

“Go to the box before I yellow card you,” the ref says, sounding almost bored.

“Just go,” Wolfe says, but I can tell he’s pissed at Ktytor’s shit, too.

There’s only two minutes left in the game, and I’ll be holding my fucking breath the entire time I’m in the box.

Ktytor knows how to ride the time. He’s not just trying to slam the puck into the back of the net. He’s drawing it out, not giving us a second to even it up. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do.

In a smugness I’ve never seen anyone pull off, Ktytor glances back right before his team passes the puck, and he rears back to shoot.

I tighten my fingers around my stick, digging my nails into the wood. My life slows as Wolfe moves to block. His hand comes up, but I know before it happens. He’s not going to be able to stop it.

The light goes off with one second left on the clock, and Ktytor jumps in the air, screaming.

Motherfucker.

It’s over.

We line up to congratulate them.

“Want a repeat, sweetheart?” Ktytor says under his breath as he passes.

“Meet me in five minutes behind the busses.”

“Is a date.”

Neither of us even bothered to fully change. He’s in his rash guard, and I’m in mine. I pulled on sweats and shoes, but that’s it. I don’t even feel the icy wind. I’m too bent on putting my fist in his fucking face.

He walks out a minute after I do, a cocky swagger to his gait. “Come out, come out wherever you are, beautiful.”

“Blow me,” I say through my teeth.

“How can I when you’re so far away?” He ruffles his hand through his blond hair.

“You know if anyone sees us, we’ll be in trouble with the league.” It’ll be a while before any of our teammates come out, but I don’t want to risk the off chance someone will come looking because they notice us missing.

“Fair. I guess.” He stops a few feet in front of me. “I owe you an apology.”

I’m speechless. That isn’t what I’m expecting. “What?”

“For getting you thrown away. That was a cheap shot.” His apology doesn’t temper my anger.

“You fucking did it, and it’s the only reason you won.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but we won, so you can take a cheap shot now.” He holds out his hands and gestures me forward.

I lift my fist, but I can’t just cold cock him.

“What are you waiting for? I need to go shower so I can get wasted.” He sounds fucking bored again. It’s just one more way he’s pushing my buttons.

“Fucking fight me. I can’t just hit you.”

“If you insist.” He drops into a fighting stance, lifting his fists. “I’ll beat you again.”

That does it. I throw a left hook, catching him right in the jaw.

He doesn’t even try to block it, despite his hands being up.

His head whips to the side. As soon as he recovers, he comes at me.

We trade blows, and he gets in a couple of good hits.

We’re both slowing down, the toll of the game and the pain finally coming to a head.

I drop my hands, still furious, but my body is nearly ready to give out.

“Finally,” he says, using the cleared space to step in and grab my shirt with both hands, dragging my body to his. But he doesn’t kiss me right away.

We’re so close his breath on my throat.

He brushes our noses together. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this all day.”

I open my mouth to argue but can’t. It’s so much easier to deny him in text.

He skims his tongue between my lips, and I part them. “Let me taste you.”

We’re kissing in an instant, and it’s hot and fast, exactly like our fight started.

He drags me blindly, taking me deeper into the dark parking lot before finally shoving me against a massive SUV.

Pinning me there, he subtly rocks his hips.

I grab the back of his neck, hating how much control he’s taken.

Maybe I should throw him off like last time, but I can’t stop.

I don’t want to stop.

I'm so turned on, my dick fucking hurts. He loosens his grip on my shirt, sliding his hands up to wrap his arms around my neck.

“Fucking touch me already,” he growls in to my mouth.

“Where?” I gasp, not knowing the first thing about guys.

“Any fucking where.”.

I bring up my hand, then hesitate. I feel like a fucking virgin. This can’t be that different from being with a girl, except it is. His body is hard and throbbing and I really like it. Which still leaves me drawing a blank.

He nips across my jawline, putting his lips right next to my ear. “Where do you like to be touched?”

“My cock,” I say automatically.

“Well, if you insist.” He shoves a hand between us, brushing the backs of his knuckles over my dick.

I groan, getting even harder. It spurs me into action. I push my hand under his rash guard, skimming my fingers over his perfect body.

He grins against my lips. “So you can be taught, sunshine.”

“I beg your pardon,” I say in my most condescending tone. “I’ve never fucked a guy before.”

“No?” That seems to excite him.

“Never. Nothing with a guy.” Why the fuck am I telling him this?

“Me either.”

My brows lift, and I’m not sure I believe him. “Oh?”

He shrugs and tries to shove my cup aside enough to get at my cock. “Kiss me again if you’re not going to run away.”

I should leave. Anyone could come looking for us, anyone could walk by. But I don’t. I slip my tongue into his mouth, too turned on to do anything but let him make me come.

He releases me, and I start to demand he touch me again when he forces his hand into my sweats, and under my cup. His skin meets mine, and he’s rough with his callused palm.

So we’re really doing this.

I flip us around, shoving him into the cold metal.

I can’t let him have all the control. I slip my hand inside his waistband and move his cup aside.

I don’t give myself a second to realize what I’m doing, and wrap my fingers around his dick.

He’s smooth and rock hard all at once, thicker than I am.

I can’t help but groan, mirroring what he’s doing.

“Fuck, you’re so rough.”

“Shut up and take it.” A part of me doesn’t want him to enjoy this fully.

“I like it. People are too soft.” He rocks into my grasp.

I shouldn’t like that, but I do. I roll my hand like I’m jacking off, doing all the things that feel good. I’m living and dying on his reactions while we build each other up slowly.

“I’m close,” I gasp. It creeped up on me, but I’m about to explode.

He slows down. “Me too.”

“Fuck you. Don’t do that.”

He bites my lower lip, grinning. “Don’t do what? Make you need it more? Trust me—it will be better.”

I get rougher with him, shoving my knee between his to press into his balls. He mutters something in his language, panting. He’s close. I can feel it.

“I’m going to force you to come whether you like it or not.”

“You want it so badly, don’t you?” Ktytor words make me think for a split second he’s going to work me up and leave, but he rolls his hand, taking me right to the edge. “Then come, precious.”

I exhale as I orgasm, cumming all over his hand and our shirts.

He looks like he fucking won the game again. I keep jacking him off to not punch him in the face. He thrusts his hips into my hand, leaning back against the car as his eyes half close.

He’s gorgeous like this, completely under my control, the smugness all but gone from his face. He shudders, and finally, he comes, cock pulsing and spilling cum down my fingers. A rope hits my throat and drips down my shirt.

Pleasure becomes him.

His lips crash into mine, and he kisses me as I work him through the last of his release. When we finally still, he grabs my jaw, lifting my chin while he licks his own cum off my throat.

“We don’t need anyone asking questions,” he says, the smirk returning.

I step back, post nut clarity hitting me. I glance around, holding up my sticky hand.

He grabs my wrist, licking his cum off my fingers. “You’re welcome.”

I feel his words all the way to my cock.

We both fix ourselves and then linger.

“Wish me luck for our next game.”

I shouldn’t want to hit him and kiss him again at the same fucking time. “Fuck you. You’re going to lose.”

His grin stretches wider. “I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”