SEE THE LIGHT

Cassandra Carr

www.loose-id.com

See the Light
Copyright © February 2013 by
Cassandra Carr
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eISBN 9781623002015
Editor: Ann M. Curtis
Cover Artist: Mina Carter

Published in the United States of
America

Published by
Loose Id LLC
PO Box 809
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www.loose-id.com

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Chapter One

Jason “Roney” Monroe had a big

problem.

Literally.
His current dilemma came in the

form of the woody he’d popped a couple
of seconds ago when he’d gotten an
eyeful of Patrick Parker as the man
washed himself in the shower after the
first day of USA Hockey’s pre-Olympics
camp. Since it was the first day, all the
players and the off-ice staff like Patrick
had participated.

The fact that he’d gotten harder than

a fence post looking at any man’s junk
was bad enough, but one of the

advisors? That was all kinds of wrong.

Usually Jason was better able to

tamp down on his lust for his fellow
man. He’d been doing it for years, after
all. Professional sports weren’t exactly
welcoming gay athletes with open arms,
and he wasn’t keen on getting punched in
the shower when some meathead noticed
him staring. So he’d tried to condition
himself, hoping if he saw enough cock,
had his dick sucked enough, and fucked
enough tight asses outside the locker
room, he’d become desensitized to his
teammates’ equipment.

The older man continued to

methodically soap himself, and Jason bit
his lip, trying desperately to muster up
the will to turn away, to not look. Yeah,

like asking him not to breathe. It was one
of those dirty little secrets no one ever
talked about in hockey—that your
jockstrap made your cock and balls
sweat like a motherfucker and, therefore,
itch like crazy. If you didn’t wash
thoroughly enough, you’d be feeling it
for the rest of the day. That didn’t make
Jason feel any better right now, though,
as his brain flooded with images of other
ways Patrick could be touching himself.
And ways he could be touching Patrick.
Or Patrick could be touching him.

Fuck. Camp is gonna suck.
When he’d glanced over the four-

headed community shower stall and
noticed Patrick cupping his balls, he’d
barely been able to hold in a groan. The

man’s equipment, even flaccid, was
impressive. Yeah, and didn’t matter
what his equipment looked like because
Patrick was straight as a ramrod as far
as he knew, so there was no way Jason
was getting any closer to said equipment
than he was now. Not that he would ever
get involved with someone in the hockey
world. That was a disaster waiting to
happen.

He chuckled to himself as he

thought about the word ramrod. Yeah, he
had a couple of ideas for where Patrick
could shove his ramrod. His ass
clenched, and he sighed. Shit, he wasn’t
even a bottom, and he was already
picturing bending over for the guy. Jason
closed his eyes and tried to think about

how he needed to make sure the
equipment guy sharpened his skates and
how his right shoulder pad needed a
little fitting tweak. It didn’t work.

Just another day in the salt mines.

* * * *

As soon as his shower was done

and he’d exited the shower room, one of
the assistant coaches snagged him,
telling Jason his presence was required
in the coaches’ office. Fucking perfect.
Just what I need right now. He’d
already made the Team USA Olympics
squad, so it wasn’t like he was going to
be cut, but that didn’t stop his heart from
skipping a little as he knocked on the
heavy wooden door. He heard a muffled

“Come in” and stepped inside.

The head coach, Marty Banas, and

damn it, the man himself, Patrick Parker,
were seated on opposite sides of the
desk, Patrick’s hair still wet from his
shower. Marty waved Jason into the
other guest chair, and Jason sat, running
his damp palms down the front of his
jeans as he assessed Patrick. His face
revealed nothing, and Jason hoped to
hell this wasn’t going to be a dressing-
down for inappropriate behavior in the
showers.

This shit is crazy. I need to calm

down. And stop staring.

He addressed Marty. “You wanted

to see me?”

“Yeah. Now don’t freak out, kid.

Patrick just wanted to talk a little about
your positioning.”

His gaze jerked to look at Patrick,

his face no doubt belying the horror he
was feeling.

Positioning where?
“On the ice?” His voice broke on

the last word, and Jason cursed to
himself.

Where else, you freaking moron?
Marty spoke again, addressing

Patrick. “You got this?”

The other man spoke for the first

time. “Yeah, no problem. See you
tomorrow.”

Marty vacated the office, and

Patrick turned his chair to face Jason

more fully.

“As Marty said, I wanted to point

out a couple of things in regard to your
defensive positioning.”

Jason figured he should listen

closely, considering Patrick had been an
All-Star defenseman while he played.
An injury had forced him to retire, and
Jason figured he was around thirty-seven
now. Considering Jason was only
twenty-two, in some ways, Patrick
seemed ancient. Patrick had played in a
different era, and the game had changed
since then with the introduction of the
new rules. He admonished himself.
Patrick knew what he was talking about,
no matter how many new strategies and
systems had developed in the three or

four years since he’d retired.

He nodded, running his hands over

his thighs again until he realized what he
was doing and forced his hands to grip
the chair arms. Why the hell was he so
nervous, anyway? He’d dealt with
coaches since he’d started playing
organized hockey at five years old. Why
was this any different? Jason wasn’t
fooling himself, though. It was different,
because he wanted to fuck this coach. He
was so screwed. Jason shifted in a vain
effort to relieve the pressure on his dick.

Patrick

had

one

of

those

whiteboards coaches used to draw up
plays, and he began to scribble on it in
marker, pointing out various scenarios
and how Jason had handled them and

then overlaid that with what Patrick
thought was the better positioning. Jason
was following along all right until he
leaned in a little to get a better look and
caught a whiff of spicy cologne. His
gaze flew up to Patrick’s face as he
shifted yet again to hide his even more
interested cock, but the man was
engaged in what he was doing and didn’t
seem to notice.

What the hell? Why can’t I control

myself? It’s never this bad.

Patrick was years older than he,

and as Jason reminded himself, straight.
Of course, if he wasn’t, there was little
chance Jason would know about it
anyway, considering there were no “out”
players or staff in the NHL. Recently

he’d been thinking vaguely about coming
out to a few teammates he trusted, but
most gay guys in the NHL were likely to
stay in the closet while the passive
homophobia rampant in the game
remained.

Forcing himself to focus, Jason

looked at the diagram. He was a smart
player, but he had no idea what Patrick
was talking about at that moment and
didn’t want to come off as an idiot, so he
nodded, choosing to remain silent.
Patrick wiped off the board and started a
new diagram.

“I’d like to see you cheat a little

closer to the corner on the faceoff, like
this,” Patrick explained, drawing an
arrow from one point to another, and

Jason tilted his head.

“Can I ask why?”
Patrick glanced at him. “Your

defense partner isn’t as fast as you are,
and you need to compensate. We all
know Marcus is a great player, but if he
gets caught flat-footed, you’re going to
have to chase guys down. If you’re
closer to the corner to begin with, you
can cycle the puck out of the zone more
easily.”

“Makes sense.”
Patrick licked his lips, and Jason

bit the inside of his cheek to keep from
moaning. This was seriously fucked-up.
He could not afford to be attracted to
anybody involved with the Olympics or
the NHL. Jason had been a bit of a lark,

making the Olympic team in the first
place, and this was his chance to show
everyone he could be an elite player.
Thinking with his dick would get him
nowhere. The Games were starting in a
few short months, and he couldn’t allow
himself to become distracted from his
goal.

The older man looked up, and

Jason felt his face flame.

“Hey, Roney, you all right? You

look a little flushed.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed, and Jason

forced himself not to squirm under the
scrutiny. “I’m fine. Just, you know, still
a little tired from practice. Haven’t gone
that hard in a while.”

Why does everything sound dirty?

I’m losing my mind.

“Sure, sure. Well, go get some rest.

We’ve got a two-a-day tomorrow.”

“How could I forget?” Jason asked

with a wry grin. Two-a-days—where
the team practiced in both the morning
and afternoon—were one of the many
banes of a hockey player’s existence,
and he wasn’t looking forward to the
next day, knowing even with his superior
conditioning he’d be sucking wind by the
end.

“One of the reasons we chose you

was your endurance. We’re hoping you
won’t break down over the course of the
Games like some of the other guys
might.”

Patrick regarded him steadily, and

Jason felt his heartbeat quicken.

“I fought for you to make the team,

and I have faith in you.”

Jason swallowed, his throat tight.

“Thank you, sir.”

Patrick grinned. “Sir? You must be

feeling out of whack. Call me Patrick or
Patty.”

“Patrick.”
“Trying to suck up or just show

respect to your elders?”

Jason’s

blood

pressure

went

through the roof as images of him
sucking Patrick off flooded his addled
brain.

“Uh, yeah.”
“Listen, Roney. You don’t need to

be nervous. You’re here because you
deserve to be. You made it, kid. Now
enjoy the opportunity and play your best.
That’s all we can ask.”

Patrick started to reach out, but then

his hand curled into a fist and dropped
onto his leg. What was that about?

“Go

ahead.

We’ll

see

you

tomorrow.”

Jason nodded and skedaddled

before Patrick could get another word
in. As he drove to the hotel USA Hockey
had put them up in, he tried to figure out
how difficult it would be to avoid
Patrick until he could go back to New
Jersey and start training camp for the
upcoming NHL season. Highly unlikely,
considering how many team functions

were planned during orientation camp.
Then there were the actual Olympics in a
few months. Groaning, Jason wondered
if he’d have enough time for a quick suck
’n’ fuck at some local gay club so he
could take the edge off. Shit, he hoped
so.

* * * *

Patrick packed up his stuff and

headed out, hitting the button on his
rental car’s remote to unlock the doors
when he was a few feet away. His brain
flashed back to his meeting with Jason.
The kid was acting weird, and Patrick
wasn’t sure what was going on. He’d
been loose that morning, laughing and
joking with his fellow teammates. So

what was different during their meeting?
Was he nervous about being yelled at?
The brass at USA Hockey had spoken to
his coach in New Jersey before making
their final selections and had been told
the kid was definitely coachable. Patrick
wasn’t sure what would be different
about him taking direction here.

He frowned. Come to think of it,

he’d seen Jason interact with the various
coaches today, including him, and he
hadn’t seemed as uptight as he just had.
Did the kid not like him for some
reason? What had changed in only a few
hours? When Patrick realized he was
standing beside his car door, staring into
space, he shook his head and climbed
into the car for the drive back to the

hotel,

resolving

to

watch

Jason

tomorrow, both to see if the younger man
took his advice about the positioning and
to see if he acted strangely around any of
the other staff. Having a player hate you
was

always

bad

for

chemistry,

especially when you had no idea why or
what to do about it.

* * * *

The next day, Patrick was more

confused than ever. He’d found himself
watching Jason like a hawk, and Jason
appeared to be having a great time,
streaking up and down the ice during
drills in the morning and working his ass
off in the afternoon scrimmage. He was
quick to smile and laugh, but the couple

of times Patrick noticed that when Jason
glanced his way as Patrick sat a few
rows up from the benches, his smile had
faded and he’d turned away. Never
before had a player responded to Patrick
that way, not while he was playing, and
certainly not now that he was serving in
an advisory capacity for USA Hockey
and as a scout for Philly during the
season.

Despite Jason’s apparent dislike of

him, though, Patrick was drawn to him.
When he looked down at his notes and
realized the legal pad in front of him
was virtually blank, and that what notes
he’d managed to jot down were almost
exclusively dedicated to Jason, he
rubbed the bridge of his nose between

his thumb and index finger while silently
castigating himself.

In the logical part of his brain, he

knew there was a possibility a player
wouldn’t like him or wouldn’t jibe with
him at some point in his career. Despite
that, for some reason it bothered him a
whole hell of a lot. Jason was a player
he respected tremendously. Yes, he was
young, but also incredibly talented. He
had a great future ahead of him.

Doesn’t hurt that he’s smokin’ hot

either.

He told his dick to shut up. Patrick

had played with and been around good-
looking, well-toned professional athletes
for years. The guy’s physical makeup
shouldn’t even be entering into his

thought process. But it was. Shit. Not
having a hot guy such as Jason like him
was hard on a gay man’s ego, especially
since Patrick wasn’t exactly a young man
himself anymore. With a sigh, he tore his
gaze away from Jason and forced
himself to observe the other guys.

When Jason was still acting

squirrelly the next day, Patrick caught up
with him in the hallway outside the
trainers’ room. He was losing his mind.
He had to know what was up with the
kid. For the past two days he’d been
racking his brain, trying to figure out
what he could possibly have done to
bring about this change in the man’s
attitude.

“Hey, Roney, wait a minute.”

Jason froze before slowly turning.

His expression was stony. “Yeah?”

Patrick took a deep breath. Instead

of relaxing him, the clean, woodsy scent
of Jason’s cologne flooded his nostrils,
and he barely held in an agonized groan.
“What’s up with you?” His question
came out harsher than he’d intended, and
he sighed.

“What do you mean?”
The younger man wouldn’t meet his

gaze, and Patrick tried to rein in his
temper. What the fuck was going on?

“This,” Patrick answered, gesturing

toward Jason. “Did I do something to
piss you off?”

Jason’s eyes were shadowed with

an unreadable emotion when he finally
looked at Patrick. “No.”

“Then what’s with the attitude?”
One eyebrow rose. “Attitude?”
Patrick crowded him a little, and

Jason immediately retreated, his back
hitting the wall behind him.

What the fuck? Is he afraid of me?
The concept seemed ridiculous, but

otherwise, why would he be acting this
way?

“This,” Patrick repeated, poking

Jason in the chest. “You won’t look at
me, you won’t talk to me, and now you
look like someone just made you eat
something that smelled bad.” Jason’s
throat worked, and Patrick frowned. “I

don’t understand what I did, but we’re
going to be working closely over the
next couple of months, and I don’t want
there to be some weird rift between us.”

Crossing his arms over his chest in

the scant distance between them, Jason
replied, “There’s nothing. I’m fine.”

A lesser man would’ve been

cowed by the threatening stance the
younger man had taken, but Patrick was
used to hockey players beating their
chests. It didn’t faze him, despite the fact
that Jason was about six-two and easily
over two hundred pounds. Patrick was a
few inches shorter and, at this point,
probably twenty pounds lighter, but
Jason being bigger kind of turned him
on. Really, if anything, Patrick should be

afraid of Jason, not the other way
around.

Looking at the other man’s face just

a hairbreadth away, Patrick noticed how
close they were standing, especially
since Jason had crossed his arms. His
treacherous dick twitched. At the
moment Jason was clad in a pair of
sweat shorts that no doubt showed his
ass to great effect and a skintight USA
Hockey T-shirt, his large feet clad in the
sandals most of the players wore around
the locker-room area. Those muscular
arms,

still

crossed

over

his

mouthwatering chest, were lightly dusted
with dark hair, as were his legs.

Patrick was practically plastered to

the other man, not having wanted to look

weak by backing down himself, and
when Jason met his gaze once more,
Patrick barely stifled a gasp. Heat lurked
in the kid’s eyes, much as he no doubt
tried to disguise it. There was no
mistaking the way his pupils were lust
blown. It was next to impossible to hide
if someone were looking closely, and
Patrick was. Was he gay? Even more
alarming—did he know Patrick was too?
Was that the reasoning behind the look
Patrick had just intercepted?

This just got pretty fucking

complicated.

Patrick was decidedly not out, and

apparently his gaydar was shot to shit
too, since he’d had no clue about Jason’s
sexuality until it had become clear in his

gaze. Eyes didn’t lie, and Jason’s said
he was interested. Patrick paused, trying
to get his head on straight. If Jason was
gay, he wasn’t out either. Patrick was
pretty sure he would’ve heard if a player
in the pros had gone public with his
homosexuality.

Should he say something? He was

practically one of the kid’s coaches. If
he were a better man, he would be
giving advice rather than trying like hell
to figure out how to get into the guy’s
pants. But Patrick wasn’t a better man.
He was a horny, ridiculously turned-on
man, who obviously had a thing for this
kid.

Stepping a little closer still—not

enough to rouse suspicions should

anyone come upon the two of them, but
enough to better assess what was going
through Jason’s mind and, if he was
honest with himself, to experience that
little thrill of attraction he’d missed so
much lately—Patrick took a good look at
the man in front of him. Jason might be
younger than he by over fifteen years, but
he wasn’t built like a kid. No, Jason was
closer to a tank, and that had always
been Patrick’s type. He wasn’t a fan of
feeling like he was going to break some
little twink in half.

Jason’s hair was dark brown and

cut in one of those fashionable styles
when it wasn’t plastered to his head
after a hard practice like they’d had
today. He also had full lips and a square

jaw. For a younger man, his facial hair
grew quickly, and his neck, jaw, and
cheeks were covered in a thick scruff,
even though Patrick knew the man had
been clean shaven as per USA Hockey
regulations for the team picture only two
days ago.

Patrick wasn’t usually attracted to

younger guys, but he had to admit, Jason
had a certain magnetism that no doubt
drew men and women alike to him. Eyes
the color of honey were currently darting
all over as if the man was looking for an
escape hatch, and with no small amount
of regret, Patrick took a step back. He
now had a pretty good idea of what
Jason’s problem was, but he refused to
embarrass the kid by saying or doing

anything, especially here.

There was no good way to end this

awkward-as-hell encounter, though, and
Patrick searched his mind for something
nonthreatening to say. “Just promise me
you’ll tell me if there’s something I ever
say

or

do

that

makes

you

uncomfortable.”

Jason nodded, staring at the floor.

“Can I go now?”

He retreated another step. “Of

course.”

Without another word, Jason fled,

and Patrick had to resist the urge to
allow the wall to hold him up. He didn’t
need to read a book on the principles of
coaching to know that having an
attraction to a player was bad news,

especially one as young as Jason. Sure,
he was well above legal at the age of
twenty-two, but many would only see the
large age difference and vilify Patrick.

Chapter Two

What just happened?
Jason hurried along the corridor

like a fire raged just behind him, and in
many ways it did. When Patrick
cornered him, Jason’s entire body had
reacted, and he’d been forced to attempt
to hide his rampant arousal by pitching
his torso away and folding his arms. He
wasn’t

entirely

sure

he’d

been

successful, though, and he wondered
what the older man thought of him now.

All Jason could hope was that

Patrick wouldn’t notice his dick jump
every time Patrick drew near. If this kept
up, he was going to have to find an

anonymous hookup sooner rather than
later. He’d been hoping he could make it
until he got back home, but it was
becoming increasingly clear he’d have
to scratch the itch. His dick certainly
wasn’t cooperating, and it was only a
matter of time before someone noticed.
Jason didn’t have any idea where the gay
bars in the area were, and certainly not
which ones would be best for a quick,
anonymous lay. It wasn’t exactly
something he could stroll up to the
concierge’s desk at the hotel and ask
about.

That very night, he found himself

standing just inside the door of a club
he’d fortunately been able to find online.
He’d stopped in the hotel gift shop and

gotten a Chicago Cubs baseball cap,
which was currently pulled low over his
eyes, and he’d made sure he wasn’t
wearing anything that identified him as a
professional hockey player. Between the
nondescript clothes and the partial beard
obstructing his face, he hoped no one
would recognize him.

Jason was still new to the league,

this being his second season in the pros,
and still enjoyed a degree of anonymity,
especially when away from New Jersey,
but you could never be too careful when
you were about to try snagging a hookup
in a gay club. He hated trolling through
clubs for a quick suck or fuck, but it was
what he usually had to resort to. If he
didn’t find someone tonight, he feared he

might do something really fucking stupid,
like drop to his knees in front of Patrick
and offer to suck his cock. And Jason
d i d not suck cock. He got his cock
sucked.

Since he’d discovered he was gay,

Jason had been a top all the way, but
something about Patrick made him want
to bend over and offer his ass to the man.
Being fucked required a level of trust
Jason wasn’t about to give freely. In
fact, he hadn’t had that with anyone since
he’d been briefly reunited a couple of
summers ago with one of his fuck
buddies whom he’d met when they were
both playing juniors. It was the only time
he’d ever had a sexual relationship of
any kind with someone in the hockey

world, and Jason had still refused to
bottom.

Taking a deep breath, Jason made

his way through the semicrowded club to
the bar and ordered a beer. The
bartender slid the bottle toward him, and
Jason did his best not to make eye
contact. A few moments later, the
bartender came back and jerked his head
slightly to the side. “If you’re looking for
a hookup, I think you’ve got a willing
partner.”

Jason glanced down the bar. A

twink, no more than five-three or four
and probably one thirty soaking wet,
was shyly smiling at him. “What do you
know about him?”

The bartender shrugged and then

grinned. “I fucked him a few weeks ago.
Tight ass.”

“Is he in here a lot?”
“Nah. A few times a month, maybe.

He likes the guys with muscles.”

The man swept a hand up and down

in front of him, and Jason grunted in
response.

“He’s a good guy, and you look like

you could use some stress relief.”

Tipping the bottle back, Jason

drained it of its contents, caught the
twink’s eye, and headed toward the
back. Once they were in the bathroom,
Jason pulled the kid into a stall and
hardly had the door latched before the
twink had fallen to his knees and begun

unzipping his jeans. Before he got
carried away and went to town, Jason
grabbed a condom out of his pocket.

They tasted gross, but he knew

nothing about this kid and needed to
protect himself. The kid took the hint,
quickly

sheathing

Jason’s

rapidly

hardening dick before diving onto the
thing. Jason’s head briefly fell back
against the stall wall behind him, but
then he hurried to hunch forward once
more to better hide his identity.

The kid sucked him for a bit, but

when Jason opened his eyes, all he saw
was Patrick. His hips jerked as he came
fast and hard.

“Fuck!”
Pulling off him, the twink looked

up, his eyes round. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, but I need to go. I’m sorry.”

Jason began to put himself back together,
tossing the condom in the conveniently
provided trash can in the stall and not
looking at the other man.

“I don’t understand.”
“I just…I can’t. I’m sorry.” Rushing

out of the bathroom, Jason cursed
himself inwardly. What was wrong with
him? He didn’t stop until he was outside,
holding his shaking hand up to hail a
cab. After jumping into the backseat,
Jason shook his head. What a colossal
disaster.

Once back in his room, he got in the

shower, but no matter how hard he tried,
he couldn’t forget that what had set him

off hadn’t been the twink sucking him
down like he was in the Sahara Desert
and Jason’s cock was the only source of
water, but rather just the flash he saw of
Patrick’s face. With a growl, Jason
stomped out of the shower, dried off,
threw the towel in the corner of the
bathroom, and then crawled into bed.
Sleep was a long time in coming.

* * * *

Patrick’s head was about to

explode. He was so horny he could
practically taste it, but he was currently
stuck in interminable meetings about
how to handle specific team issues
before the Olympics started. By the time
he finally got back to his own room, he

was about ready to punch something.
Instead he threw himself on the bed,
pushed his track pants down just enough
to pull out his throbbing hard-on, and
then yanked up his T-shirt.

Immediately he wrapped his thumb

and index finger around his dick, looking
for the tight fit he knew would get the
job done quickly. Normally he preferred
to tease and stroke slowly, but the cum
sizzling in his balls was making that
impossible.

He moaned as the first few hard

tugs had his ass arching off the bed.
Closing his eyes, a picture of Jason’s hot
mouth wrapped around his cock assailed
him, and he let out a tortured groan.
Patrick knew exactly what he’d do if he

had the younger man in his bed. His
fingers itched to plow into Jason’s hair
as he pushed his erection farther into the
man’s mouth until the head bumped the
soft palate.

Planting his heels on the mattress,

Patrick arched off the bed again as he
thought about whether or not Jason could
take him to the root, letting him push into
his throat. Dangerous thoughts, but they
proved to be successful. Patrick cried
out as jet after jet of warm, creamy cum
coated his hand, his dick, and his belly.
Reaching behind him, he quickly pulled
off his T-shirt, using it to wipe himself
up. He hated using his clothing to wipe
up his jizz like he was a fucking fifteen-
year-old, but in his hurry he hadn’t

thought to grab a towel or even a tissue.

He felt like an asshole. Not only

was he lusting after a man nearly half his
age, but that man happened to be one of
the players he was supposed to be
advising. Even if he was crazy enough to
act on the attraction, there was no way it
would end well. And when had Roney
become Jason in his head? He called all
the players by their nicknames just like
everybody else did, and he had no idea
when that subtle shift had occurred, but
it made Jason seem more like a man and
less like a young player Patrick had no
business dallying with.

After

ordering

room

service,

Patrick flipped through about a million
channels, looking for a decent movie to

watch. Right around the time he was
cursing out the hotel’s television system
for not having a damn thing worth
watching, there was a knock on his door.

After tipping the man who’d

brought up his food, Patrick took his
plate and leaned against the headboard,
blindly shoving food into his mouth as
explosions

from

some

mindless

rough-’em-up,

shoot-’em-up

movie

enveloped the room. He was actually
surprised when he glanced down and
encountered an empty plate. Even with a
gun to his head, he doubted he could
describe what dinner had tasted like.
With an agitated groan, he rose and
began pacing the room. He needed to do
something before he lost his goddamned

mind.

With a snap of his fingers, he

recalled seeing a small arcade in one of
the alcoves off the lobby. Maybe they
had a pool table or something. Hell, he’d
take a fucking pinball machine at this
point. He needed to blow off steam in
the worst way, and he didn’t much care
how he did it, as long as it didn’t
involve beating down Jason’s door and
shoving his tongue down the kid’s throat.

An hour and a half later and twenty

bucks sacrificed to the gods of the
arcade, Patrick was finally able to relax
enough to go back upstairs. That calm
lasted until he turned on the television
and saw the back of a dark brown head
of hair. Then all his lust for Jason roared

back to the surface, and with a disgusted
huff Patrick stalked into the bathroom to
take another cold shower and jerk off
again. This shit was getting old.

* * * *

Fate wasn’t on Jason’s side.

Everywhere he turned, Patrick was
there. The man had been acting strangely
ever since their confrontation in the hall,
and Jason lived in fear that Patrick had
seen something that day and would out
him, despite his gut feeling Patrick
wasn’t like that.

Another night, Patrick and Jason

found themselves on the same elevator at
the hotel. Jason groaned to himself when
Patrick followed him when he exited on

his floor. He knew Patrick didn’t have a
room on this floor and braced himself
for the inevitable. The best thing to do
now was go on the offensive. When
Jason reached his door, he clenched his
fists at his sides and spun around. “Why
are you following me?”

Patrick stopped dead before turning

his gaze to the floor, where he worried
at a small hole in the carpet with his
shoe. “Shit.”

“What?” Jason wouldn’t stand there

like an idiot, waiting for the guillotine to
fall. Almost without a conscious thought,
he took up a battle stance.

The older man held out a hand in

supplication. “Please, just let me
explain.”

Jason’s eyebrows drew down as

Patrick raised his gaze, and Jason read
myriad emotions in them. Pain, guilt,
shame, and hidden under all that, lust.

What the fuck?
He wasn’t willing to let the man off

the hook until he knew what he wanted,
so he barked out, “Talk.”

Patrick indicated Jason’s door.

“Can we go inside? We shouldn’t stay
out here in the hall, not with what we
need to talk about.”

“And what is it we need to talk

about?”

Jason watched as Patrick cleared

his throat and shifted his weight from
side to side. In a voice barely above a

whisper, Patrick said, “Our mutual
attraction.”

“Fuck.”
Patrick ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, what you said.”

Without

another

word,

Jason

unlocked his door and swung it open,
motioning for Patrick to go in ahead of
him. As soon as he was in the room, his
eyes locked on the king-size bed
dominating the space. Fortunately there
was a desk chair and a small arm chair,
and Patrick fell into the arm chair as
Jason slowly lowered himself to the
desk chair.

Jason blew out a breath. “So you’re

—”

“Yeah. And so are you.”
“How the hell did you know that?”

The question came out as little more than
a snarl. He saw Patrick arch an
eyebrow.

“I’ll admit you had me fooled for a

while, but once I saw you check me out
and looked into your eyes, I knew.”

“When did I check you out?”
“In the hallway a couple of days

ago when we talked.”

Jason’s stomach churned. Busted.

There was no use lying, especially since
Patrick had already admitted he was gay
too. “Can anyone else tell, do you
think?”

“No. You hide it well.”

Closing his eyes, he murmured,

“Thank God.”

“But I saw it, I see it, and we’re in

deep shit.”

“How do you figure that?” Jason

shifted in his chair. Even now his cock
was half-hard, but he didn’t want the
other man to notice his excitement. “I’ve
hidden attraction before.”

Patrick blew out a loud breath.

“Yeah, but were you trying to hide it
when the other person was doing the
same thing and there are countless
people around at all times?”

“I’ll deal with it.” Rubbing the

sudden ache at the back of his neck, he
gestured toward Patrick. “Besides, if we
can’t do anything about it, why even

come here and dredge the whole thing
up?”

“Because I think that’s better than

trying to ignore it. I don’t know about
you, but it was driving me crazy.”

Jason shot to his feet. “And you

think now that we know we want each
other, things will get easier? Are you
fucking delusional?”

Patrick rose as well and stalked

over to him. “No, I’m not ‘fucking
delusional.’”

Jason stared at the other man, the

lust burning him where he stood. He
moved even closer, like a moth to a
flame.

What the fuck am I doing?

Apparently Patrick didn’t know

either, because his expression became
alarmed. “What?”

I can’t stop.
“I need to do this.”
Not giving Patrick a chance to react

to his words, Jason grabbed him, one
hand palming the back of Patrick’s head
as Jason’s other arm snaked around the
man’s waist, pulling him into Patrick’s
rock-hard body. It was obvious the man
kept in shape, despite his playing days
being over, and a tortured moan escaped
before he could stop it. Jason dived into
Patrick’s mouth as the passion flared,
melting him from the inside out. He
hadn’t kissed a man in years, and he
realized how much he’d missed it as the

kiss went on and on, neither man willing
to let the other go.

He could feel Patrick’s cock as it

lined up with his, and even through
layers of clothing Jason felt the heat
pouring off the other man. It made him
want to submit to anything Patrick
desired, which confused him. Honestly
Jason couldn’t remember the last time
he’d had a man’s dick in his mouth, but
right now he’d give just about anything
to suck Patrick off.

Patrick pushed them backward until

they crashed into the wall, never letting
their lips separate as he took control of
the kiss. With a growl, the older man
reached down and cupped Jason’s ass,
pulling their cocks even closer and

rubbing them together. Jason turned his
head to the side with a gasp to break the
kiss before he passed out, but Patrick
kept at him, scoring his teeth down
Jason’s neck to his pulse point.

“So fucking hot.”
All Jason could do in return was

give a helpless little whimper. Just as
suddenly as Patrick had shoved him, he
pulled away. Jason struggled to remain
upright, letting the wall support the
majority of his weight as he forced his
gaze to Patrick’s. Both men were
panting, and when Jason glanced down
at Patrick’s crotch, it was obvious the
other man was still sporting an
impressive erection. Somehow Jason
knew if Patrick spun him to face the

wall, he’d gladly offer this man his ass.

What is wrong with me?
Patrick’s eyebrows drew down.

“Fuck. You make me forget. I can’t
forget, and neither can you.” With a
shake of his head, Patrick turned toward
the door. “I gotta go.”

Jason

watched

him

leave,

speechless. Why had Patrick come here?
Why make a big fucking deal about how
they couldn’t act on their attraction, and
then still let Jason kiss him senseless?
He stumbled to the bed and lay down on
his back, staring at the ceiling. Shit.
Now that he’d had a taste of Patrick, he
wanted more. A lot more.

* * * *

Patrick pushed his way down the

hall, still breathing hard. He started to
shake and prayed he didn’t encounter
anyone from the hockey program. There
was no way he could explain his current
state. He couldn’t do this. They couldn’t
do this, and yet as Jason stared at him
after Patrick had said that in his room,
he’d looked both lost and horny as hell.
Patrick had never done anything like
this, had never lost control. And it
wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.

His whole point in following Jason

off the elevator had been to encourage
the kid to slake his lust somewhere else,
so maybe Patrick would have a chance
in hell of keeping his sanity. He’d never
moved in on another guy’s man, and if he

knew Jason was taken, he’d back off,
even if the jealousy threatened to choke
him. But then Jason kissed him, and all
his thoughts had scattered like a bucket
of pucks thrown on the ice.

He resolved to ignore the other man

for the remainder of camp, no matter
how hard it would be. Maybe he could
spend extra time in the coaches’ office,
watching game tape and drawing up
strategies. If he didn’t see Jason, maybe
he wouldn’t be so tempted to toss him on
the ground and fuck him six ways to
Sunday. Patrick snorted. And maybe pigs
would fly, or the Leafs would win the
Stanley Cup.

Using

every

bit

of

resolve

available to him, Patrick slogged through

the rest of the camp, keeping his head
down and staying out of close proximity
with the players whenever possible. He
was mostly successful, but during the
last two days of camp, he was forced to
participate in several team-building
exercises. Watching Jason take part in
the exercises, designed specifically for
the team by a couple of Navy SEALs,
made Patrick’s dick harden and his
breath catch. The man was poetry in
motion. Patrick had been forced to stop
tucking his USA Hockey polo shirt in to
try to hide his hard-on.

A couple of times, Jason had

looked his way, and Patrick died a little
inside at the combination of lust and
anger in the other man’s eyes. Patrick

didn’t blame him. How could he?
Patrick was the older of the two. He was
there as a coach, for fuck’s sake. He
should’ve shown better judgment.

Everything came to a head during

an end-of-camp celebratory dinner that
lasted all night as course after course of
food was brought to their party. Patrick
and Jason were seated next to each
other, despite Patrick’s attempts to get
and stay away from Jason, and all the
big bodies crowded around the table
made it impossible to not brush against
each other throughout the evening.

Every time Jason’s thigh rubbed

against his or they bumped shoulders as
they both reached for something was
torture. Patrick’s cock was being

strangled inside his dress slacks, and he
doubted Jason was in any better
condition, judging from the little looks
he was darting Patrick’s way and the
expressions on his face as the night wore
on.

Patrick was careful not to drink

much, knowing it would only make him
ache for Jason more, but Jason seemed
to be taking the other tack, tossing back
several beers throughout dinner. They all
shared cabs back to the hotel, and
Patrick told himself to go to his room,
lock the door, and take care of his raging
erection himself.

But his body had other ideas.
It followed Jason into an elevator

along with a few other guys, and soon

they were alone. He heard Jason sigh in
front of him but was too far gone to back
away now. Patrick needed Jason like he
needed air. It wasn’t even a question of
sanity at this point; Patrick had lost that
battle days ago. No, touching Jason was
a necessity.

Jason got off the elevator, and

Patrick followed. As soon as they were
both clear of the elevator doors, Jason
turned and faced Patrick, the color in his
cheeks high.

“Look, man, I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” He

waved vaguely in the direction of his
room. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be
messing around like this.”

Patrick stepped closer and watched

as Jason swallowed thickly. “So if I turn
around now and press the button for the
elevator, you’ll just let me leave?”

Jason bit his lip.
“I didn’t think so.” Pointing down

the hall, Patrick said, “Now.”

Jason wasted no time and strode

down the hall, his long legs eating the
distance to his door quickly. He slid the
plastic key card in the lock and then
swung the door open. Patrick pushed
past him, and when the younger man
closed the door behind him, Patrick
crowded him into the corner.

“You backing out?”
Shaking his head, Jason stammered,

“N-no. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“Are you sober enough to know

what you’re doing?”

I’m going to hell for this.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
If Patrick was going to do this, to

risk everything, he needed to know the
other man could handle it.

“I’m sure.”
“Come with me.” Grabbing his

soon-to-be lover’s hand, Patrick stalked
to a position beside the bed. “Take off
your clothes.” This was crazy. This was
wrong. But shit, it felt so right. Patrick
sat on the edge of the bed, forcing his
hands to curl into the bedspread. “Do

it.”

Jason’s hands shook as he began to

unbutton the open-necked dress shirt he
wore, and Patrick actually salivated as
the man’s toned chest and abs slowly
came into view. Obviously Patrick had
seen many a fine-looking body on his
fellow players before tonight, but
something about Jason made him hard as
a rock. Pulling the tails of the shirt out of
his dress slacks, Jason then pushed it off
his shoulders and tossed it on a nearby
chair.

“Aren’t

you

going

to

get

undressed?”

“No. You’re going to do it for me.

But I want you naked first.”

“Just so you know,” Jason said,

straightening to his full height, “I don’t
bottom. I like to be the one in control.”

Patrick

grinned.

“I’m

equal

opportunity and don’t really care too
much if I’m bottoming or not, but for
now, I’m in charge.”

Jason frowned.
“You’re

thinking

too

much.”

Jerking his head toward Jason’s pants,
he ordered, “Keep going.” The younger
man took a deep breath before
unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. As
the material parted, the tip of his cock
peeked out from over the waistband of
his underwear, and Patrick groaned. “So
ready.”

With a silent nod Jason finished

undressing and stood in front of Patrick,

letting him look his fill. Then he sank to
his knees, and Patrick groaned again,
clenching the bedspread with a white-
knuckled grip as he tried like hell to get
himself under some semblance of
control.

“Your turn. Lift up.”
He did, and Jason undid his pants,

sliding them all the way down and off
and taking his boxers with them. After an
appreciative glance at Patrick’s cock,
which was so hard it was nudging his
belly, Jason reached up from his
position in front of Patrick to unbutton
and pull off Patrick’s shirt and then the
undershirt.

Patrick’s brain exploded when

Jason leaned forward and sucked

Patrick’s dick into his scorching, wet
mouth. “Fuck!” And this kid thought he
was a top? Shit, what would he be like if
—and hopefully when—he got more
comfortable with bottoming?

As if he knew the direction of

Patrick’s thoughts, Jason moaned, and
Patrick’s ass lifted off the bed, thrusting
of its own volition. Jason backed off,
licking up the precum leaking freely
from Patrick’s cock.

“Get up here. I want to suck you off

too.”

Jason, as expected, didn’t argue,

and they quickly arranged themselves on
their sides before they each dived for the
other, Patrick taking a moment to lick
and fondle Jason’s full balls. Jason

groaned.

“Shit, that feels good.”
“Keep sucking, baby. You make me

crazy.”

With a sound of pure, agonized

need, the other man took Patrick inside
again, and he had to concentrate on
pulling himself away from the cliff for a
moment. When it felt like he’d beat his
orgasm back, at least temporarily,
Patrick engulfed Jason’s stiff prick with
his mouth, using his hand in counterpoint
to jerk the shaft while he sucked the
head. Jason tasted like sweat and pure
male, and no matter how young this guy
was, he didn’t feel like a kid. Not at all.

His erection pulsed once in

Patrick’s mouth, and he tensed, but Jason

pulled off Patrick long enough to take a
shallow, shuddering breath.

“Close.”
“Wanna make you come.”
Barking out a laugh, Jason retorted,

“Not going to be hard.”

“Feels pretty hard.” Patrick took

the younger man in his mouth again,
running his tongue up and around the
cockhead before sinking farther. Jason
shifted, pushing his dick inside, and
Patrick had to back off or gag. “Easy,
kid.”

“Not a kid.” Jason scored his teeth

ever-so-gently on Patrick’s shaft like he
wanted to prove that point, and Patrick
moaned, then moaned again as more

precum seeped from the head of the
younger man’s cock.

No more words were needed as

each worked the other with lips, teeth,
and tongues. Jason was the first to go
over, spurting down Patrick’s throat.
The vibrations from the incoherent
noises Jason made as he came sent
Patrick over the edge, a second deluge
coming when he spotted his spunk
leaking from the corner of Jason’s
mouth.

He pulled himself around and

attacked Jason, pulling the larger man on
top of him as he pushed a hand into
Jason’s hair and his tongue into his
mouth, tasting himself there. Jason
wasn’t a passive participant as he

sucked Patrick’s tongue and then bit his
bottom lip, soothing the ache with quick
swipes of his tongue.

Patrick rolled but misjudged and

nearly sent both of them toppling off the
bed. The spell was broken as both men
scrambled, laughing. “I guess that move
needs some work, or I’m not as
coordinated as I used to be.”

“Or we need a bigger bed.”
Thinking of his California king

back home, Patrick groaned.

“Not that I’m—”
“I know, I know.” With regret,

Patrick stood and began to dress. “We
scratched an itch, that’s all this was.”

“Uh, okay.”

For a moment Patrick thought he’d

hurt the man’s feelings, but when Jason
lifted his head and looked at Patrick,
anything that might’ve been in his eyes
had cleared.

“Sure. Well, I’m pretty tired…”
“Yeah, me too.” Without another

word, Patrick tucked himself back into
his clothes and left. As he returned to his
own room and got ready for bed, he was
dogged by the feeling that he’d fucked
up. Things were already so complicated.
He’d risked so much. Had it been worth
it? With a sigh, Patrick turned off the
light and rolled on to his side.

Chapter Three

Jason was seriously losing his

mind. That and developing carpal tunnel
syndrome in his right hand and forearm.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick
and how hot it had been to be in the
other man’s arms. The number of times
he’d relived that mutual suck-off in his
hotel room could only be considered
embarrassing.

The season had begun, and the

Olympics were three months away.
Jason had hoped that the time and space
between him in New Jersey and Patrick
in Philadelphia would give him an
opportunity to get over this—crush?

obsession?—but it didn’t look likely at
this point. At least he had something to
focus on.

This year Jason was expected to be

one-half of New Jersey’s shut-down
defensive pairing while also potting
forty to fifty points. He was fine with
increased

expectations

and

responsibility. It made coming to the rink
every day a challenge. So while he was
at the rink, things were fine. But those
long plane rides and the endless periods
of time the team spent waiting for
something:

a

bus,

their

luggage,

whatever—that’s when the memories hit
him in the face.

The team had just returned from a

short road trip up to Boston and

Montreal to start the season. They’d won
one and lost one, not a bad record for the
road, but Jason wasn’t happy with his
play. After practice the next day, he
stayed out on the ice with one of the
assistant coaches, working on his
positioning. He hadn’t forgotten what
Patrick had said about that, either, or
what other advice the older man had
given him.

Now he was standing underneath

the hot spray in the shower of the locker
room, his head bent as water cascaded
down his neck and then his back.

I want to call him.
He made a derisive sound. Yeah,

that wouldn’t look desperate.

Why hasn’t he called me?

Jason wondered if Patrick hooked

up with a lot of guys and then just
dropped them. He didn’t seem like the
type, but how well did Jason really
know him? It wasn’t like he could even
condemn the man if he kept his affairs
brief and impersonal, either, since that
was

Jason’s

standard

operating

procedure too. But he’d thought the night
at camp and the kiss before that had
meant more.

Ugh, do I even want it to mean

more? What am I, some girl looking for
a fat diamond and a white picket fence?

He figured maybe he was a girl, as

he spent way too much time vacillating,
trying to decide what he wanted. It had
to stop. Shutting off the shower, Jason

reached outside the stall and grabbed a
towel, quickly drying himself before
returning to the dressing room to change
back into street clothes. After picking up
a take-out salad, he lumbered home and
stretched out on the couch with the
remote, the salad perched on his belly.

The cell phone in his pocket rang,

nearly dislodging his lunch. Jason
cursed, grabbing the salad with one hand
and the phone with the other. The
number wasn’t one he recognized, and
he frowned. He should just let it go to
voice mail, but the last time he’d done
that with an unfamiliar number, he’d
gotten

nine

increasingly

agitated

messages from some dude named
Damone.

He decided to answer, but that

didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
“Yeah?” The word came out as more of
a growl than an actual word, but he
didn’t care. Jason was hungry, and
Survivorman was starting.

“Jason?”
“Who’s this?”
“Patrick.”
Shit.
“Oh, uh, hi.”
“Hi. Listen, we need to talk.”
“Okay.” Jason speared a couple of

pieces of lettuce, but before he shoved
them in his mouth, he said, “So talk.”

“Right,” Patrick answered and then

cleared his throat.

Even through the phone line, it was

obvious how nervous he was, so Jason
deduced this call had nothing to do with
the Olympic team.

“Are you all right?”
Jason’s eyebrows drew down.

“What do you mean? Like am I hurt or
something? No. Why?”

“That wasn’t what I meant. Listen,

it’s been hell being without you. I know
we only had a brief…thing…going.”

Patrick blew out an audible breath,

and Jason stabbed more pieces of lettuce
as he waited for the man to continue.

“But I still want you. A lot. Pretty

much all the fucking time, and it’s
driving me insane.”

Jason was glad this wasn’t a one-

sided thing, but even so, what the hell
could they do about it now? And should
they?

“I’ve been thinking about you too.”

The admission didn’t cost him anything,
and he owed it to Patrick to be honest
with him.

“You have?”
“That night in the hotel was one of

the hottest things I’ve ever done.” He felt
a blush creeping up as he remembered
how good Patrick’s dick had felt in his
mouth and how hard he’d shot down the
other man’s throat. Jason barely held in
a groan.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Most of my experiences

have been suck-offs in bar bathrooms
and stuff.” He laughed. “Actually, that
was the first time in a while that I’ve had
sex in a bed. That makes me sound like
such a man whore. I’m really not. Far
from it, as a matter of fact.”

“No, I’m sure you’re not. You’re a

professional athlete in a difficult
position.”

A

weight

lifted

off

Jason’s

shoulders.

Finally

somebody

understood. He put the salad down on
the coffee table and sat up.

“I know. I just sometimes feel like

a fraud.”

“You’re not. The dynamics in the

sport make it necessary for us to lie,

whether we like it or not, whether we
want to or not. And the way I look at it,
you’re an incredibly hot, really nice man
I like a lot.”

“I like you too.”
“What are you thinking about? You

sound…I don’t know…disconnected or
something.”

Now Jason blew out a breath.

Might as well go for it. “I was thinking
about you, and how much I want you
again. How much I liked what we did.
How much I want to do it again. I know I
shouldn’t—”

“Oh, fuck.” Patrick let out a low

growl. “Seriously? My dick just got hard
as I listened to you.”

“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And you’re not here to do

anything about it.”

I want him. I fucking want him

now.

Closing his eyes, knowing this was

a hugely bad decision and not giving a
shit, Jason asked, “What would you want
me to do about it?”

Patrick groaned. “You’re killing

me. I’d love to see your mouth wrapped
around my dick again. I just about shot
as soon as I saw that the last time.”

For some reason, hearing Patrick

say that made Jason feel really good. It
wasn’t like he spent a lot of time sucking
cock, and hearing he didn’t, well, suck at

it was pretty cool.

“That good, huh?”
“So fucking good. You have no

idea.”

Patrick paused, and Jason waited

him out. He obviously had something on
his mind. After a moment, Patrick spoke
again.

“I,

um,

wanted

to

propose

something.”

“I’m listening.”
“Both of us have a lot to lose, and I

think we can help each other.”

Patrick’s words tumbled over each

other, and Jason had to concentrate to
understand him. Curiosity and horniness
got the best of him. “How so?”

“I’m looking at your schedule. You

have a three-day break at home early
next week. I just checked, and Philly is
off that Monday too. Would you meet me
after practice at a hotel somewhere in
between there and here? I know neither
of us could stay all night, and I’m not
even sure you’d want to, but I think it
would help us work through some of this
stuff.”

Patrick paused, and Jason’s cock

jumped inside his sweats. See Patrick
again? So soon? Before he realized his
mouth had opened, he answered, “Yeah,
sure.”

“Great.”
The older man sounded noticeably

relieved, and Jason wondered if he’d

expected him to refuse.

They hung up soon after that, and as

Jason tossed his phone onto the coffee
table at his right, the doubts crept in.
What if someone saw them? What if
Patrick wanted his ass? He wasn’t at all
sure he could give that up, no matter how
hot the man was. Would he be expecting
cuddling and shit afterward, or was this
a fuck-and-run thing?

His salad forgotten, Jason closed

his eyes, willing his straining erection to
calm down. He still had five days before
he’d be seeing the other man, and he
didn’t need to deal with a constant
woody. Unfortunately, his dick had other
plans, and finally Jason gave up trying to
ignore it and grabbed a couple of

tissues. Pushing his sweats down and
then catching the hem of his shirt with
his chin, Jason grabbed his aching hard-
on and began roughly pulling. There was
no time for a gradual work-up. He
needed to come now.

Imagining his hand was Patrick’s

mouth did it, and he soon erupted,
making a mess on his hand and abs.
Jason milked the final few drops out and
then fell back against the arm of the
couch. Postorgasmic bliss sounded
pretty good right about then, but rapidly
drying cum getting sticky did not, so he
used his stash of tissues and then went to
the bathroom to clean up further. It was
going to be a long five days.

* * * *

Finally.
Finally the wait was over, and he

was about to see Jason. Patrick knew he
shouldn’t be so excited and that it was
dangerous to go down that road, but hell,
no matter how many times he told
himself to forget about Jason his body
betrayed him, mocking him with
erections at inopportune times and
generally making a nuisance of itself.

Patrick had chosen a Marriott in

downtown Trenton, New Jersey, not far
from the freeway. He’d left as soon as
practice ended and checked in. Then he
texted Jason with the room number and
began to pace.

A knock at the door a while later

was either Jason or his sanity, or both,
since they appeared to be one and the
same, and he hurried to open it. Ah,
Jason. He stood there in well-worn
jeans and a Henley, his thumbs tucked
into his front pockets and an uncertain
smile on his face.

“Get in here,” Patrick ordered, his

voice thick and rasping, and Jason
stepped inside. Patrick closed the door
and slammed Jason into the wall by the
bathroom. A little yelp left him. Aghast,
Patrick stepped back. “Did I hurt you?”

“Surprised me.”
“Fuck, you look good.”
“So do you.”

“Sure I didn’t hurt you? That’d be

all we’d need.”

“I’m fine. I’m a big boy.”
Patrick nodded. “Fuck, yes, you

are. Good, because I don’t think I can
hold off any longer.”

Stepping closer once more so that

he was flush with the man, Patrick
wrapped his hand around the back of
Jason’s neck and attacked his lips. When
Jason opened to the invasion of his
tongue, he couldn’t stop the moan of
absolute need. Why did he want this man
so much? For years he’d been perfectly
content with short-term, no-strings
affairs. Now that life seemed shallow
and cold. The man Patrick had his hands
on currently wasn’t cold. Jason was as

hot as a damn firecracker, and Patrick
hoped he wouldn’t get burned.

After long moments of the two of

them battling for dominance of the kiss,
Jason turned his head to the side,
gasping for air.

“Move back.”
He did so immediately, and Jason

dropped to his knees. “Shit!” He’d worn
track pants, figuring they’d be easier to
get out of, and he was right, as with one
good yank, Jason had them and his
boxers at his knees and Patrick’s dick in
his throat. Had he been practicing deep
throating? Because he was fucking good
at it for someone who said he never
sucked cock. Patrick could only prop
himself up with one hand on the wall and

plow the other one through Jason’s hair
as the younger man licked and sucked
like he was starving for cock.

He knew he would come soon if he

didn’t stop Jason. Patrick began to pull
back, but the other man kept a firm hold
on the base of his shaft. Letting go for a
minute, Jason looked up at him.

“Let me finish you. I know it’s

crazy, but I’m craving your taste.”

Patrick groaned. With a request like

that, how could he refuse? He couldn’t
even begin to want to refuse Jason.
Thrusting back inside, Patrick put all his
weight on the hand on the wall holding
him up and fucked Jason’s mouth with
long, measured thrusts. Several pumps
later he stiffened, coming up on tiptoe,

and spilled his seed onto Jason’s
waiting tongue.

Stumbling backward, his bare ass

scraped along the rough paint on the
opposite wall. He nearly killed himself
as he got caught up in his pants and
underwear, but didn’t care one iota. That
was the best freaking blowjob he’d had
in years. He wanted more, but that
would have to wait. He wasn’t twenty-
two like his counterpart. After pulling up
his pants, Patrick ran a hand through his
hair and closed his eyes.

“I can’t…” He tried again. “I’m

speechless.”

He sensed Jason rising. Patrick

cracked open one eye and caught the
shit-eating grin the younger man tried to

hide.

“That good, huh?”
“Pretty sure you sucked my balls

right out of my body.”

“Don’t think so.” Jason reached a

hand between Patrick’s legs and
squeezed gently. “Nope, they’re still
there.”

The only answer Patrick could

formulate to that statement was a grunt.
As he pushed off the wall and forced
himself to walk toward one of the chairs
next to the bed, he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”
“We didn’t make it past the foyer.”
“We’re past it now.”
Patrick sat and regarded Jason,

who’d slid into the desk chair, his legs
spread to lewdly display his swollen
cock through his jeans. “Strip and get on
the bed.”

One thick eyebrow rose, but Jason

did as he asked.

“Hands and knees.”
“Uh—”
“Relax. I don’t recover that quickly

anymore, and I don’t intend to fuck you
until or unless you’re ready. I’ll only
know that when you start begging.”
Jason snorted, and Patrick popped him a
hard spank. A satisfying red handprint
rose on the pale skin of his ass.
“Behave.” Jason snorted again, and
Patrick grabbed his cock and balls in
one hand, holding them and exerting a

slight pressure before landing a couple
more spanks.

“Okay, okay.”
“Put your face down on the bed.

That’ll make things easier.”

With a quick backward glance,

Jason lowered his head.

“Good. Now just feel.” What

Patrick had in mind would hopefully
relax Jason enough that he’d let Patrick
fuck him. If not, that was okay too.
Keeping a looser hold on Jason’s dick
and his full, heavy balls, he used his
other hand to pull one ass cheek to the
side. Patrick pushed his tongue into the
man’s cleft before reaching his pucker.
Jason jerked when Patrick touched it
with the tip of his tongue. “Easy, baby.”

Why the fuck did I just call him

baby?

With an eye roll to himself, he bent

to his task once more, working Jason and
feeling the other man relax by degrees.

“I’ve never done that,” Jason

mumbled when Patrick pulled away.

“Done it or had it done to you?”
“Either.”
“Feel free to try it if you want to

explore. If not, no biggie.” Spearing his
tongue into Jason’s now relaxed hole, he
then wiggled it, and Jason moaned.

“How can that feel so good?”
Patrick moved away just enough to

say, “Lots of nerve endings there.”

“Apparently fucking millions.”

If Patrick hadn’t been so focused on

what he was doing, he would’ve
laughed, but instead he continued to
work the younger man. Jason began to
squirm. Patrick let his balls go and
concentrated on Jason’s dick, steadily
jacking it while continuing his torment of
the younger man’s anus. “Come for me.”
That seemed to be all it took.

“Yes…” Jason hissed as his

release began. Patrick continued to
stroke him, both front and back, until
Jason pulled away. “Too much.”

Patrick let him turn over and flop

onto his back. “Watch me.”

He held up his cum-covered hand

and began to methodically lick. Jason’s
heavy-lidded

gaze

followed

the

movements of his tongue, and when
Patrick licked up a big dollop and made
a show of pulling it into his mouth, Jason
moaned.

“You’re killing me. Why is that so

fucking sexy?”

Finishing his personal cleanup duty,

Patrick walked into the bathroom and
returned a short time later with a wet
washcloth. Jason took it, swiping over
his abs and dick before tossing it on the
end table. Patrick sat down on the edge
of the bed, still fully clothed.

“Feel better?”
“After I come about a dozen more

times, yeah, I should feel a little better.”

Patrick barked out a laugh. “I’m not

sure what I can do about a dozen, but I’m
not surprised you’re aiming high.”

“Hey, Coach always tells us to aim

high.”

After the words left his mouth,

Jason turned his gaze away from
Patrick’s, but Patrick wasn’t having that.
He would not let Jason be ashamed of
who he was or what he was doing. If
anything, Patrick should be feeling
shame for dallying with a player on a
team he was an advisor for, who just
happened to be, oh, fifteen years
younger.

“Don’t hide from me. If something

is bothering you, spit it out.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this. You

know that as well as I do.”

“No, what I know is that we’re both

consenting adults, and what we do away
from the rink is nobody’s business but
our own.”

Jason eyes narrowed. “Does that

help you sleep at night?”

“No, jerking off to images of you

sucking my dick helps me sleep at
night.” Patrick ran the tips of his fingers
down the side of Jason’s face, and
though he flinched a little, Jason allowed
the contact. “Hey. Don’t be ashamed.
You can’t help what you are any more
than a man can help what color his skin
is.”

“Oh, so now you’re all out and

proud?”

Patrick felt his eyebrows draw

down. “No, but let me ask you this. How
many people know you’re gay?” Before
Jason could answer, Patrick continued.
“Let me rephrase that. How many people
you actually know and interact with
know you’re gay?”

“Two. Well, three if I include

myself.”

Sure he hadn’t heard correctly,

Patrick repeated it. “Three?”

Jason’s gaze slid away before

returning to his with obvious reluctance.
“Yeah. Me and you and that guy I
messed around with in juniors. He
probably thinks I’m bi, though.”

Patrick sat up straight. “You’re

kidding.”

“Nope.” Jason rolled over to the

other side of the bed and rose, grabbing
his jeans.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look, it’s not something I talk

about. Ever. It just…is.” Jason speared
Patrick with a look. “How many people
know about you?”

Patrick paused for a moment,

considering, while Jason pulled his
briefs and jeans back on. He took a
second to mourn the loss of the sight of
Jason’s naked body laid out for his
perusal but forced himself back to the
conversation. “Um, offhand, I’d say

about twenty.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?

Twenty?”

“Yeah. Both of my parents know,

my siblings—I have two sisters and a
brother—and their spouses. That’s eight
right there. If I count myself like you
counted yourself, that’s nine. Then
there’s my two road roommates while I
was playing—”

“Hold the phone. Your teammates

knew?”

He shrugged. “They were both cool

guys, and I trusted them.”

“How did you know they wouldn’t

go blabbing it to the rest of the team?”

“Because I knew them. One of them

had a gay brother, and the other had
broken up a gay bashing back when he
was in juniors. Neither of them
would’ve outed me.” Gentling his voice,
he said, “So your parents don’t even
know?”

Jason curled up in the arm chair

behind him, clearly uncomfortable with
the current topic. But this was important,
and Patrick wasn’t letting it go until
Jason made him.

“My

dad

is

a

construction

supervisor. I haven’t heard him say
anything outright homophobic, but the
couple of times I helped out on the crew
when I was still in juniors, I heard
plenty from the other guys. Not directed
at me, of course.” He shrugged, but the

gesture wasn’t casual. “My mom is
really insecure. I thought if I told her,
she’d blame herself or worry about what
other people thought about it. I just
didn’t want to have to go through that
kinda hassle.”

“But what about friends? Other

family members?” Jason shook his head,
and a profound wave of sadness rolled
over Patrick. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry.”

“It is what it is.”
“I totally killed the mood. I’m

sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s actually kind of

nice to just be here and not have to look
over my shoulder every second or worry
about what people are seeing in my eyes
or my body language, you know?”

“I do.” Patrick left the bed and

approached Jason. “I can be your safe
harbor. If you want.”

Jason smiled. “I’d like that.”
Patrick pulled the desk chair over

to face him. “Now how about you take
those pesky pants back off so I can lick
you like my own personal ice-cream
cone?”

“That’s a horrible line.”
“But it got you smiling, which was

all it was supposed to do.” Jason let
Patrick pull him out of the chair, and
Patrick made short work of his pants
before Jason could change his mind.
Pushing the younger man gently onto the
bed, Patrick stood back and gave him a
slow perusal. “You’re fucking gorgeous,

you know that?”

Jason smirked. “Ditto.”
Patrick approached Jason once

more and straddled him. “So you don’t
mind that I’m a little older than you?”

“A little older? Try way older.”
In

response,

Patrick

tweaked

Jason’s nipple. Hard.

“Ow. And apparently crotchety.”
“Oh, the hockey player knows big

words.”

“My mom’s an English teacher.

You should see the words I can pull out
of my ass.”

“I’d rather put something in your

ass.”

Jason stiffened. “About that…”

“Yeah?”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“You mean like never?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But the

whole thing kind of freaks me out.”

“You don’t have to. And if you did

decide to, I’d prepare you so good you’d
be begging me to slide my cock into your
tight little hole.” Patrick thrust against
Jason as he said the words, and Jason’s
mouth opened.

“Why aren’t you naked too? I meant

to ask you about that, but you distracted
me.”

“You want me naked? Take off my

clothes.” The sentence had barely left
his mouth when Jason flipped them,

ending up on top.

“Old man.” He gave Patrick a shit-

eating grin. “Sit up.” After pulling
Patrick’s shirt over his head, Jason then
shimmied down to the end of the bed,
where he hopped off and reached for
Patrick’s pants, leaving him in boxers.

“Apparently you haven’t grasped

the concept of naked.”

Jason

laughed.

“Patience,

patience.” Then he slid his hands up
Patrick’s legs, pushing them until they
were bent ninety degrees before
spreading them wide and crawling
between on his knees.

When the other man’s tongue skated

from the inside of his knee, up his thigh,
and right into the leg hole of his boxers,

Patrick

sighed.

“Okay,

I’ll

stop

complaining. But I thought I was
supposed to be licking you.”

“Shh.” Jason’s nose was nudging

the fabric up, and the tip of his tongue
ran over the side of Patrick’s now half-
hard shaft before briefly flicking one of
his balls.

Chapter Four

Holy hell, this was hot. Patrick was

covered, but not. Usually sex for Jason
meant a race to the finish, the endgame
an orgasm. But both of them had already
come, and Jason could actually enjoy a
man’s body. He latched on to Patrick’s
inner thigh with his mouth, sucking and
biting just the slightest bit. Patrick
moaned, and Jason smiled around the
mouthful of male skin. Oh yeah, this was
hot.

Jason turned his face and found the

open placket of Patrick’s boxers. Using
only his lips and tongue, he coaxed
Patrick’s dick out of the slit and, feeling

pretty proud of himself, gently sucked
just the head. Patrick’s hands slammed
down on the bed on either side of his
spread thighs, and a powerful wave of
satisfaction burst through Jason. He’d
caused that.

Since Jason was still only twenty-

two, he had no idea how long it took to
recover from an orgasm, but Patrick had
warned him it might be a while. He was
still undecided on what he wanted to do
even if Patrick could get it up again, and
wondered if Patrick would bottom for
him instead. Chancing a glance up, Jason
saw that Patrick was panting but
watching him avidly, and Jason’s face
flamed. He felt like he’d been caught
with a hand in the cookie jar.

“Shh, baby, don’t be embarrassed,”

Patrick murmured. “You look sexy as
fuck like that.”

Jason pulled off Patrick and sat up.

“I’m not ashamed or anything. I’m just
not used to being the giver, you know?”

Patrick

barked

out

a

laugh.

“Never?”

With a self-deprecating shrug, he

answered, “Not really. I go to bars for
hookups. I find a bottom who wants me,
and I let him suck me off. Sometimes I
fuck him. But never the other way
around.” He took a deep breath. “To be
honest, I wasn’t even sure I was ‘all-the-
way gay.’”

“Come again?”

“You know, like totally gay.

Women do nothing for me, but since I
wasn’t particularly interested in sucking
another guy’s dick or taking it up the ass,
I wondered how gay I actually was.”

“And now?”
Jason glanced down at Patrick’s

cock. “Now I’m pretty sure I’m all-the-
way gay.” He frowned, not sure if he
should admit why he was sure. “This is
the first time I’ve wanted to kiss a man,
to figure out what makes him moan, to
put his cock in my mouth, or to swallow
his cum.” Blushing again, he looked
down at the bedspread.

“Jason, look at me.”
His breath caught on the note of

authority in Patrick’s voice. Damn him

for using his coach voice to get his
attention. Involuntarily, Jason looked up.

“There’s no reason to be ashamed.”
“I know that, I do, but I’m so far in

the closet I can’t even see the door. And
that sucks and I wish it was different, but
it’s not. I especially hate lying to my
teammates. I feel like they don’t know
the real me. No one does. Well, except
for you, to a certain extent.”

“Believe me, I’m familiar with that.

The You Can Play project might change
things,

though.

It’s

had

really

widespread support from the NHL and,
more importantly, from the players. I
wish it had been around when I was
playing.”

“Any guy can do one of those

public service announcements saying he
supports gay athletes. That doesn’t mean
he actually does.”

“Obviously. But the main point is,

you might not have to stay in the closet.
And even if you choose to, you shouldn’t
be ashamed.”

His eyes narrowed as he regarded

Patrick. “So then why are you still in the
closet?”

“Because I know, like you, that the

sport has a long way to go before gays
will be openly accepted. Plus with the
sex-abuse charges against coaches in the
youth and college ranks going on, I
didn’t want to give anybody an opening
to say I was abusing somebody.”

The man’s tone held a trace of

bitterness, and Jason couldn’t blame
him.

He scooted up and gently kissed

Patrick. It was ridiculous to think a man
like him would ever abuse someone, but
it wasn’t a stretch to see how some
homophobic dad would accuse an
openly gay coach of molesting his kid.
Running the tip of his tongue over the
seam of Patrick’s lips, Jason silently
asked for entry. Patrick opened to him,
and Jason dived inside, exploring
Patrick’s mouth with leisurely strokes of
his tongue. He’d had a few fumbling
kisses in the past, but nothing compared
to the way Patrick kissed. It made Jason
crave him almost more than the other
stuff they did.

Patrick rolled them and pushed a

thigh between Jason’s legs as the two
men continued to kiss. The slight
pressure on Jason’s cock and balls from
Patrick’s weight actually excited him.
Turning his head, he coasted over the
other man’s stubbled jaw to his neck and
pressed openmouthed kisses down the
length of it. Patrick shifted to make his
journey easier. “Do you like to have
your nipples played with? I’ve never
done that, you know…to a guy.”

“You’ve done it to a girl?”
“Back in juniors. I had to act

straight.”

Patrick grunted. “Yeah, I do. Do

you?”

“I have no idea. No one’s ever

done it to me either.”

Patrick groaned. “Kid, you’re like a

blank slate. You’re killing me. I want to
do about a million things to you right
now.”

“I’m not a kid.”
“No, you’re not. But since you’re

younger than me, I get to call you ‘kid.’”

“Whatever,” he answered with a

dismissive snort. “So, um, how do I do
this?”

“Do what?”
Jason gestured toward Patrick.

“Play with your nipples. Geez. Stay on
topic, old man.”

“Fuck you.”
“You wish. I think it would be

easier for me if you were on your back.
You know, the way I put you before.” He
tried to hide the smirk threatening to take
over but knew he’d been unsuccessful.
Oh well.

Patrick rolled off him and, with a

sweeping motion down his body, said,
“Have at it. Just do what comes
naturally. Kiss them, lick them, suck
them. Use your fingers and roll them.
Pinch them. There’s a lot of latitude, so
don’t worry you’ll do something I won’t
like. If you do, I’ll tell you.”

Jason

frowned

at

that

pronouncement.

“And don’t think so much. Sex is

supposed to be fun.”

Leaning down, Jason swiped the

flat of his tongue over one of the already
hard nubs, and Patrick’s head fell onto
the pillow behind him. With a smile
Jason did it a couple more times and
then plucked with his fingertips,
watching in fascination as the nipple
puckered further. Obviously being in a
supremely masculine sport with all those
puck bunnies chasing the players around
meant he’d seen way more than his fair
share of female breasts, and he knew
they responded to touching, but besides
getting hard when he was cold, he’d had
no idea male nipples could be so
sensitive.

“This is cool.”
“You’re telling me. You keep

blowing cold air on me.”

Patrick’s head came up once more

to watch as Jason continued to minister
to his nipple.

“So when are you gonna let me at

yours?”

Jason slanted a glance up at him.

“Whenever you want, but I imagine it’s
not as easy as sixty-nining.”

“It can be done.”
“Right now I wanna concentrate on

you. I like learning what turns you on.”

“Baby, you turn me on. Everything

about you, everything you do.”

Jason wasn’t sure if he was

supposed to respond to Patrick’s use of
a pet name, and really, what would he
say? Were they at that stage already?

Would something dumb like Pookie Bear
be next?

Deciding to ignore it, Jason moved

to the other nipple, using one arm to
keep the bulk of his weight off Patrick.
After all, the last thing he needed was to
cut off the man’s air supply and have to
call an ambulance. How he would
explain that one, he didn’t know.

Chuckling to himself about the

ridiculous stories he could come up
with, he also kept up his work on
Patrick, reaching over to tweak the other
nipple back to hardness. With that task
completed, he shifted again, running his
hand down Patrick’s abs and gently
squeezing the man’s balls. Patrick
moaned and opened his legs.

“So, um, would you bottom if I

wanted you to?” Jason asked.

“What is it with you and talking

during sex?”

“Would you?”
Patrick sighed. “Yeah, if it would

make you happy. I don’t bottom much
either, but I’m not scared to or opposed
to it.”

“Would you let me fuck you

tonight?” Jason tried for a casual grin
but wasn’t sure he pulled it off. “If you
don’t want to…”

Patrick met Jason’s gaze. “It’s not

that. But why don’t we take things slow?
I’m having fun with what we’re doing. Is
that okay?”

“Yeah, man.”
Jason didn’t want Patrick to think if

he didn’t give up his ass it was all over,
any more than he would want the
opposite to be true. And now that he’d
discovered how much fun foreplay was,
he could be content just exploring all the
fun stuff Patrick knew how to do. But as
he bent his head to Patrick’s nipple
again, he kept his hand on the man’s
balls, rolling the sacs on his palm and
pulling the slightest bit. He didn’t like
rough play on his balls, so he just did
whatever he liked.

“So good.”
Encouraged, Jason grasped the

semihard shaft and began to pull. The
other man’s head thrashed on the pillow

when Jason added a little twist at the
end, another thing he liked when he was
being jacked off or masturbating by
himself. Leaving off his torment of
Patrick’s upper body, Jason scooted
onto his knees beside Patrick and used
his free hand to skate behind his balls,
running his fingertips over the other
man’s taint and then circling the tight
pucker before returning to play with his
balls.

“Is that okay?”
“It feels incredible. I like having

my ass played with, so feel free.”

“Is it an off-limits topic to ask how

long it’s been since you bottomed?”

“Of course not. You can ask me

anything.”

Patrick seemed to be delving into

his memory bank to find the answer, and
Jason gave him time, still slowly jacking
Patrick’s hardening dick and working his
balls and anus with his other hand. When
Patrick jumped, Jason’s gaze whipped to
his face.

“Are you okay? Did I do

something?”

Patrick blushed, and the urge to kiss

him overwhelmed Jason.

“I’m fine. You actually hit a ticklish

spot.”

“Really…” Jason drew the word

out to several syllables, and Patrick
rolled his eyes. “Where?”

“Like I’m going to tell you.”

“I’d suggest you do so, or I’ll just

look for it.” That’s exactly what Jason
did.

“Fuck. You’re evil.”
“Never said I wasn’t.” Taking a

tighter hold on Patrick’s dick, Jason
murmured, “Come for me.”

Patrick’s back arched, and his teeth

clacked together as he started to come.
Jason continued to jack him, prolonging
the orgasm.

“No more,” Patrick panted out.
With a cocky smirk, Jason gave one

last tug. Then he scooted to the bathroom
to wash. When he returned to the room,
his stomach grumbled. Patrick laughed.

“Let’s order room service, and I’ll

answer any questions you have while
we’re waiting so we’re not caught in any
compromising positions when the food
arrives.” Patrick grinned, sending Jason
a quick wink. “Deal?”

“You are one weird dude, you

know that?”

“Just get the menu. Kid.”
Jason grabbed the menu and tossed

it to Patrick. With the order placed, they
redressed in just their jeans—which
were none too comfortable to squeeze
his hard-on into—and sat in the chairs
once

more.

Patrick

talked

about

bottoming, and Jason mostly listened,
asking questions when he wanted
something clarified. Soon their food
arrived, and after scarfing it down,

Patrick gathered their trash and put the
rolling cart out in the hallway.

Jason wiped his suddenly clammy

hands on his jeans. “So how long do you
wanna stay? I mean, I need to be back
for practice tomorrow, so I shouldn’t
spend the night or anything, but it’s still
early.”

Patrick’s face softened. “Yeah, it

is.” Leaning over, Patrick kissed him,
and when he pulled away, a little sigh of
contentment escaped Jason. Patrick
straightened and grinned. “That good,
huh?”

“Shut up. You know you’re a great

kisser.”

“You just don’t have much to

compare me to, so you have low

expectations.” Patrick placed his hands
on the arms of Jason’s chair. “But if you
don’t need to go, I’d love to get you
naked again, maybe see how you like
having your nipples pleasured. Did you
like it when I rimmed you?”

Jason licked his dry lips. “Uh,

yeah, actually.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll do that

again. You’ll have to wait and find out.”
Patrick rose and then removed his jeans,
tossing them onto the other chair. He
directed Jason to lie on his back on the
bed and then stripped him of his
clothing. “Shit, you have a fantastic
body.”

“I’m glad someone appreciates my

hard work.”

Patrick raked his gaze up and down

Jason’s body. “Oh, I’m sure you’re
getting plenty of admiring looks from
women and men alike. I doubt your ego
is hurting.”

Jason shrugged, not sure what to

say to that. He was in good shape; he
had to be to play professional hockey.
Patrick knew that, so Jason wasn’t sure
why it was such a big deal. Then Patrick
climbed on top of him and their cocks
rubbed together, and Jason forgot
everything else.

“Touch me.” Jason’s voice sounded

rough, and he cleared his throat.

“Calm down, big guy. I’m going to

touch you. In fact, my plan is to touch
you a lot.”

Leaning down, he flicked the tip of

his tongue over first one and then the
other nipple, and Jason’s back arched.

“Don’t throw me off.”
Patrick was smirking, and Jason

itched to kiss that smug expression off
his face, but when Patrick bent to his
task again, Jason could only hold on and
hope he didn’t make a fool out of
himself.

“Oh God.”
“Not God, honey. I’m just a man.”
Jason made a noncommittal sound

and felt Patrick chuckle.

“You are so much fun to play with.”
“Then stop playing,” he answered

through clenched teeth.

“And miss all this? No way.”
So Jason did the only thing he could

think to do. Using his heavier weight as
leverage, he pushed Patrick off him and
onto his back before scooting down and
taking Patrick’s now hard cock into his
mouth.

“Fuck! Why—”
He pulled off long enough to say,

“To shut you up.”

“If you’re going to give me a

blowjob every time you don’t like what
I’m saying, I’m gonna start talking about
the teams we’ll be facing in the
Olympics.” Patrick gasped when Jason
sucked harder. “Definitely gonna.”

Jason stopped. Pushing the other

man onto his side, Jason then gave his
tight ass a hard smack. “Two can play
that game, you know. How do you like
it?”

“Umm…”
He looked over Patrick’s body.

“Really?”

Patrick

blushed.

“Well,

like,

nothing weird, but a couple of slaps gets
the blood flowing, you know?”

“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“If I promise to be a good boy, will

you let me play with you? Not that I’m
complaining about what you were doing,
but I’d really love to get my hands, and,
well, a lot of other parts on you.”

And Patrick proceeded to do

exactly that, running his hands, mouth,
and tongue from the top of Jason’s head
almost to his feet. Jason figured a man
had to draw a line somewhere, and a
hockey player’s feet could get pretty
gnarly. When they broke apart after
Patrick took him to the moon yet again,
Jason realized the time and, with no
small amount of regret, rose to dress.

Patrick watched for a moment

before rising himself. “You can leave
first. You have a longer drive.”

Plus we don’t want to be seen

leaving together.

“Okay.”
An awkward silence filled the

room.

“Can you…” Patrick made a little

noise that embodied the frustration Jason
was now feeling. “Can you text me when
you get home, so I know you’re safe?”

As he spoke, Patrick refused to

meet his gaze, so rather than give a nod
he wouldn’t see, Jason simply said,
“Sure.” Grabbing Patrick by the back of
the neck, he planted one short, hard kiss
to his mouth and opened the door.
Checking the hall, he saw no one. “See
ya.”

On the ride home Jason went back

over everything that had happened. They
hadn’t actually fucked, but what they had
done had been by far the best sex Jason
had ever had. Anonymous bar-bathroom
hookups weren’t even in the same league

as what he and Patrick had done. Jason
was definitely less stressed but couldn’t
shake the uneasy feeling they were doing
something they shouldn’t. But he
supposed if Patrick wasn’t worried
about it, he shouldn’t be either. Finally,
home safe, he texted Patrick he’d
arrived. At nearly midnight he fell into
bed, nodding off into an exhausted sleep.

* * * *

Patrick couldn’t stop thinking about

Jason. This was even worse than before
they’d decided to meet in Trenton. Now
he really knew what the man felt like,
what he tasted like. What they’d done
before at the camp had just been an
appetizer before their hotel tryst, and

like a chocoholic who’s just discovered
a mountain of candy bars, Patrick needed
more.

He found himself texting Jason the

next day after he’d had to excuse himself
from a conversation since he had no idea
what the other man, an assistant trainer
in Philly, was saying. Luckily the trainer
seemed to chalk it up to Patrick’s
dueling priorities. His priorities were
skewed all right, but not the way
everyone thought.

Hey.
Sounded innocuous enough. Jason

answered a few moments later.

What’s up?
Looking down at himself with a

rueful smile, he answered.

Something for you.
Picturing the silly grin most likely

plastered all over Jason’s face, Patrick
smiled too.

Oh yeah?
Patrick chuckled.
Very much so.
Several moments later another text

came.

And what’s your plan to take care

of your problem?

With a derisive laugh, Patrick

wrote back, Find a quiet, private place
at the arena to jerk off?

It took another length of time for

Jason to answer, and Patrick began to

wonder if he’d said or done something
wrong.

Sorry, had to close my phone

quick. Nosy assholes around here… So
you’re gonna jerk off at the arena?
Dude, that’s bold.

He nodded. It was bold. And

potentially crazy.

Not much choice. You drove me

insane yesterday, and my dick won’t let
me forget it.

Reaching for a towel in the private

coach’s bathroom area, Patrick waited
for the reply.

I don’t recall you complaining. ;-)
Groaning, he wrote back.
That wasn’t a complaint. It was a

fact. Any way I can see you again?

He felt like a fifteen-year-old girl

who’d just asked the most popular boy
in class to the homecoming dance. Not a
comfortable thing, and when Jason wrote
back a couple of minutes later, Patrick
released a long, slow breath before
reading it.

Not sure. Will let you know.
Disappointment

washed

over

Patrick, but he tried like hell to ignore it.
Going into this thing, he’d known how
hard it would be to see each other. Both
of them traveled with their respective
teams, and getting away for an extended
day trip wasn’t often in the cards. Didn’t
make it any less easy to take. What could
he say, though?

Okay. Sounds good.
A few seconds later another text

came.

Later, man.
Patrick put his phone down and

leaned his head on the cold tiled wall
behind him. Already he craved the man.
There was no way this was going to end
well. Yet the more he thought about
Jason, the more convinced he became it
would be impossible to walk away.

The weeks passed, and the two

men’s schedules didn’t mesh enough for
them to be able to see each other. Patrick
grew more and more frustrated. His texts
to Jason were carefully crafted to sound
casual and not put pressure on him, since
he had a strong feeling that if Jason were

cornered, he’d bolt. He thought he’d
succeeded too well with the casual
thing, though, when Jason didn’t answer
a text for nearly a week, and was
surprised by how bummed he felt.

When Jason did finally reply, he

explained he’d had food poisoning and
had been out of commission for four
days and then trying to work himself
back into game shape. Patrick laughed
out loud in relief when he read the text.
If he’d bothered to look Jason up online,
he would’ve known he hadn’t been in the
lineup and why. Sometimes his dick
made him such an idiot.

The next set of texts from Jason

said that once the afternoon game on the
day after Thanksgiving finished, he was

free until Sunday morning, since their
coach had given the team a day off.
Jason’s parents wouldn’t be able to
make it to New Jersey for Thanksgiving,
so he had no plans. He wanted to know
if Patrick wanted to meet again, and the
thought of maybe spending an entire
twenty-four-hour period alone with
Jason left him giddy. He made the hotel
reservation and then counted down the
days—almost two and a half weeks—
until he’d see Jason again.

In the back of his mind he knew he

shouldn’t be cultivating this relationship.
If the good folks at USA Hockey found
out about it, he’d be kicked off the
advisory committee for sure. There was
at least a decent chance he’d lose his

NHL scouting job too. At least the kid
was of age. And would he be able to
keep his sexuality a secret if anyone
found out? He wasn’t in the limelight
like he was when he’d been playing, so
he wasn’t necessarily worried for
himself.

But Jason was an up-and-coming

star. Being found out could go very
badly for him. Patrick tried not to think
about the possible ramifications of
continuing this affair. If Jason wasn’t
worried enough to end things, he
supposed he shouldn’t be either. Then he
wondered if Jason was justifying things
in his own head the same way Patrick
was. As the older, more mature man,
Patrick should be taking the risks more

seriously. He resolved to talk to Jason
about it.

Patrick was already on the road to

Trenton when he realized driving
straight there would cause him to be an
hour and a half early, even if he ate
lunch on the way. Blowing out a breath,
he decided he didn’t care. After stopping
for a leisurely lunch, he went on to
Trenton and walked into their room at
twenty minutes before two in the
afternoon. He flipped through the
channels on the television for a while
and then decided to shower. Since he
had so much time, he decided some
manscaping was in order, so he pulled
out a toiletry case from the small duffle
bag he’d brought and spent the time

waiting for Jason trimming his chest hair
and pubes.

A knock at the door signaled

Jason’s arrival a little before five, and
Patrick smiled to himself. Jason must’ve
hightailed it there directly from the
arena. Maybe he was as anxious as
Patrick. When he opened the door and
Jason shoved him inside, he had his
answer. Luckily he caught himself,
because Jason gave him no time to
recover before the man was pulling at
Patrick’s clothes and cleaning his tonsils
quite thoroughly.

Finally Patrick was able to push

away enough to pull in desperately
needed oxygen. “Jesus.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Patrick held up a hand. “Don’t

apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

The other man frowned. “I don’t

know why I lost control like that. I
just…I…” Jason ran a hand through his
hair, staring at the floor.

“Hey, hey,” he replied, placing a

hand on the man’s suddenly tense
shoulder. “I’m not a girl.” Jason snorted,
and Patrick rolled his eyes. “What I
meant was, I’m not gonna break. I like
that you lost control. I was worried I
was the only one who was going nuts not
seeing you.”

“I tried to find some free time, but

I’m getting pulled in a million different
directions.”

His frustration was obvious in the

set of his mouth and the tone of his
voice, and Patrick pulled him into a
gentle hug.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. You’re

here now.” Leaning back to look into
Jason’s eyes, he continued. “You can
stay, right?”

“Yes, thank God.”
“Good. What are we standing

around here dressed, then?”

“I have no idea. I want you naked.”
“Ditto.” Each removed the rest of

their clothing before coming together in
another kiss, their tongues still dueling
but with less frenzy than before.
Breaking the kiss, Patrick admitted, “I
missed you.”

Jason smiled. “Missed you too.

Really missed this.”

He ran his hand down Patrick’s

torso and then bent down to pull one of
his nipples into his mouth.

Straightening once more, he said, “I

might be ready to, you know.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna make me say it,

aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but not only to hear it. I

want to be sure I understand what you’re
saying.”

Turning away, the other man began

to walk away and then stopped. With his
back to Patrick, he said, “I want you to
fuck me.”

Chapter Five

Spots appeared in Patrick’s vision.

His good intentions to have a heart-to-
heart with Jason flew out the window as
the blood rushed south. “Are you sure?”

Please be sure. Please be sure.
Jason nodded. “Yeah.”
“You don’t sound sure.” The last

thing Patrick needed was for Jason to
freak out.

“I am. I even, um, bought a couple

of things.” His feet shuffled on the
carpet.

“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’ve been using a plug. I

started with a small one, and now I’m up
to the medium one.”

“A plug?” The last word was little

more than a squeak. Patrick grabbed the
wall as his legs turned to jelly. This man
was a living wet dream.

Jason turned once more, the color

in his cheeks high as one side of his
mouth kicked up. “Yeah.”

“Fuck me.” Patrick drew out the

last word, his brain flashing images at
him, each one more X-rated than the last.

“Well, I can do that too, but I

thought it might help my nerves if you
went first.” Jason smirked. “So to
speak.”

Patrick shook his head. “That

wasn’t what I—”

“I know, but I do think it would

help. It’s not that I wanna ‘get it over
with’ or anything,” he answered, using
air quotes, “but I might psyche myself
out if we wait.”

Walking to the bed, he stopped in

front of Patrick, putting him at eye level
with Jason’s erection. The fact that the
kid was still hard was a good sign. If he
was losing it, Patrick would’ve had
misgivings, but his dick appeared rock
solid and was leaking precum. Patrick
licked over the head, and Jason moaned.

“How do you want me?”
“The easiest for you is on your

hands and knees.” Patrick watched, his
lust practically a living, breathing thing

as Jason glided onto the bed and
presented his firm ass. Patrick couldn’t
resist leaning forward to place a bite
and then a soft kiss on it. Like a typical
hockey player, Jason had a nice, tight,
strong ass, and Patrick couldn’t freaking
wait to sink inside it. But first things
first. He needed to prepare him. Good
thing he’d been hopeful and brought
plenty of lube and condoms. “You are
perfection.”

“I don’t know about that.”
Patrick rose and went to the bag

he’d thrown on the desk. After
withdrawing the lube and a string of
condoms, he returned to the bed. When
his lubed finger ringed around Jason’s
anus, the younger man startled. “Shhh,

you’re okay.”

“I know. It was just cold. I trust

you. You won’t hurt me. After all, I
could kick your ass with one hand tied
behind my back.”

He knew the statement had only

been

made

to

bolster

Jason’s

confidence, and wasn’t worried about
any physical confrontations with the
man, but Patrick assured him, “I won’t
hurt you. I’ll prepare you well and go as
slow as you need me to.”

Jason nodded. “Do it.”
Pushing one finger slowly inside,

Patrick asked, “Okay?”

“Yeah. That’s even smaller than the

little plug. I’m all right. Seriously. I’ve,

uh, been wearing the medium plug a
couple of hours a day for the past three
days.”

Patrick groaned. “You will be the

death of me.”

“Just don’t croak in the middle, eh,

old man? That would definitely kill the
mood.”

He burst out laughing, sure Jason

was reveling in screwing with him. “I
would think so. You ready for more?”

“Go for it.”
He added a second finger and very

slowly sawed in and out, doing his best
to ignore the tight heat. If he paid too
much attention to it now, he wouldn’t
last ten seconds when he finally got

inside the man.

“How does it feel?”
“Pretty good. No pain.”
“Excellent. Let’s see how you

like”—Patrick ran his fingers over
Jason’s prostate, and he bucked—“that.”

“Oh, fuck.” The other man drew out

the word and pounded the bed once. A
moment later he said, “I mean, I knew
that was there, obviously, but I’d never
been on the receiving end.”

Chuckling, Patrick moved over the

small bud again and again.

After taking a deep breath, Jason

said, “I can see why guys like this so
much.”

Reaching around Jason with his

free hand, Patrick then jacked him a
couple of times. “That they do.”

“Fuck me, Patrick. I want it.” Jason

turned his head and stared into Patrick’s
eyes. “Please.”

With another groan Patrick pulled

his fingers out, slid on the condom,
lubed it, and then quickly washed his
hands before returning to the bed. “Like I
said, you set the pace. It’s probably
going to burn a little, but it’ll get better.”

“I got it.”
Patrick moved behind him and

grabbed his dick, placing the head at the
other man’s entrance. Rubbing Jason’s
back with his free hand, he said, “Nice
and slow…” Calling up every ounce of
patience he possessed, Patrick began to

push and felt himself pop through a bit of
resistance. “Okay?”

“Yeah, keep going.”
He moved a little farther inside and

heard Jason’s breath catch, but the
younger man didn’t tell him to stop, so
he kept going, inching his way inside
until his full balls rested on Jason’s ass.
“I’m in. You’re so tight, babe. You’re
gonna kill me.”

“Move. Shit, I need you to move.”
Jason’s voice was rough with what

Patrick hoped was desire, and Patrick
took the opportunity to pull out and push
back in.

“Yeah, that’s it…feels so good.”
“You sure?”

Patrick knew Jason wouldn’t lie to

him. Why would he bother? Despite that,
he felt like he had to know for sure, had
to know Jason was enjoying this as much
as Patrick was.

“I’ve never…”
Jason paused and then pushed back,

and Patrick’s breath stuttered.

“Fuck, this is incredible. I wouldn’t

do it with just anybody, but I really
didn’t know it could be like this.”

He

sounded

incredulous,

and

Patrick wasn’t sure if he should laugh or
kiss the other man senseless. Jason made
the choice for him. He turned to Patrick.

“Kiss me.”
Holding up his weight with one

hand on the bed, Patrick steadied himself
with the other on Jason’s shoulder as he
leaned in to do just that. Then he settled
his body over Jason’s, one hand on the
bedspread on each side of him, and
thrust with slow, measured movements.

“So good…”
Noticing the younger man’s dick

was still rock-hard, he asked, “Can you
maneuver enough to touch yourself?”

Jason gave a grunt. “Not sure I

want to.”

Patrick stopped. “Why?”
“Damn it, fuck me, Patrick!

Because I wanna concentrate on this.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle. “I

doubt you’d get too distracted.”

“If I was pulling on my cock, I

would.”

“I want you to come.”
“And I will,” Jason answered with

an exasperated sigh, “as soon as you
do.”

He couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Can I go faster?”

“Shit, yeah. Harder, faster, yes. I

want it.”

“You like it a little rough?”
Jason barked out a laugh. “I’m a

two-hundred-plus-pound

professional

hockey player. What do you think?”

“Then hold on.” Patrick reared up

onto his knees and grabbed Jason’s hips
in a bruising grip. “You want me to fuck

you? I’ll fuck you.” He pulled the other
man back onto his dick again and again,
and Jason went with it, using his own
momentum to help Patrick along. Soon
the sounds of flesh slapping together
filled the room, along with myriad grunts
and groans from both men. “Come.”

“Can’t.”
“Yes. You. Can.” Patrick nailed

Jason’s prostate on each word, and the
other man cried out. “Fucking come for
me.” Pushing inside so far he saw stars,
Patrick went over, his teeth clacking
together and his head thrown back.
Vaguely he heard Jason get his own
release, and much as he would’ve liked
to have watched as Jason came for the
first time with a dick buried in his ass, it

was impossible, so he concentrated on
not passing out as Jason’s tight ass
contracted around him.

Mindful of the condom, Patrick

pulled out immediately but took his time
doing so, knowing it could be painful for
Jason. As he left the bed, Patrick’s eyes
stung. Jason had trusted him enough to
let him do this. Knowing Jason’s past as
the other man had explained it to him,
Patrick was truly touched he had trusted
him enough to allow this to happen.

He took a few moments in the

bathroom to compose himself before
grabbing a warm washcloth to take back
to bed. Jason was on his back, his spent
cock lying against his thigh and one arm
thrown over his face.

“Want this?”
Jason moved his arm enough to

look at what was in Patrick’s hand. He
nodded. “Yeah, thanks, man. Tissues
really weren’t getting it done.”

Patrick wiped Jason down with the

washcloth before lying down beside
him. “I want a nap.”

Jason chuckled. “Sure, old man.

Did I wear you out? Should I get your
cane so you don’t break a hip if you need
to get up?”

Patrick elbowed the younger man.

“Be nice, or I’ll make you sleep on the
wet spot.”

“Make me? You and what army?”
Patrick elbowed him again. Before

he could even take another breath, Jason
was on top of him, straddling him as he
pushed both arms over Patrick’s head.

Grinning, Jason said, “Hmm. I

kinda like this. You’re at my mercy now.
What should I do with you?”

“I’m sure you have a few ideas,”

Patrick answered with a smirk. Why was
it that every side Jason revealed was
sexier than the last? Shit, he had it bad.

Jason leaned down, and, increasing

the pressure on their joined hands as he
put more weight on them, kissed Patrick.
“That was pretty fucking good, but I
think I need your ass too.”

Patrick stared up into Jason’s

liquid brown eyes and shuddered. “You
can have it.”

“Cold?”
“Yeah, a little,” Patrick lied.
He wasn’t about to tell Jason the

thought of being overpowered while
Jason pounded into his ass was a huge
turn-on. Patrick wasn’t submissive by
any means, but since he was usually
bigger and stronger than the men he had
sexual encounters with, the idea of a guy
who could not only hold his own but
quite possibly bend Patrick to his will
was pretty fucking intoxicating. He felt
the strength in Jason’s grip holding his
hands above his head. There was no
doubt if the younger man really wanted
to, he could take control.

“Why don’t you get under the

covers?” Jason suggested. “We can take

a little nap and then maybe order some
room service. I know I worked up an
appetite.”

Jason grinned, and Patrick found

himself smiling back. “You’d nap with
an old man?”

Jason shrugged, and Patrick was

sure a smart-ass retort was coming. He
wasn’t disappointed.

“Sure, as long you keep your teeth

in. I’d hate to wake up looking at a jack-
o’-lantern. That shit freaks me out.”

They got into bed, and Patrick

wondered how Jason would react if
Patrick tried to spoon him. Deciding it
was better not to rock the boat for now,
Patrick put his back to the middle of the
bed. Long moments passed as Patrick

tried to will himself to sleep, way too
aware of the warm body behind him to
settle down. He could hear Jason’s
breathing, and it didn’t sound like he had
fallen asleep either.

He was trying to decide if he

should just give up on sleep when a
strong male arm snaked around his
waist. Jason snugged his body up tight
against Patrick’s, and Patrick forgot how
to breathe. It had been so long since he’d
done this, since he’d cuddled with
another man, and he’d forgotten how
good it felt. Finally at peace, he grabbed
Jason’s hand and drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

Jason was sweating. He frowned.

His apartment was air-conditioned. Why
was he so hot? Then he remembered. He
wasn’t at his apartment, and the reason
for the blazing heat in the bed was the
man sound asleep next to him. Patrick.
Jason smiled.

While they’d slept, they’d drifted

apart, but Jason remembered slinging an
arm around the older man. Should he do
that again? Would Patrick wake up if he
did? Jason had never cuddled another
man, but as soon as the front of his body
connected with the back of Patrick’s,
he’d felt like it was the right thing to do.
The puzzle had finally come together.

His stomach gurgled, and Jason

pressed a hand there, trying to shut it up.
Patrick rolled onto his back.

“Guess I’d better feed you before

you start picking off limbs.”

With a laugh, Jason sat up before

swinging his legs over the side of the
bed. “Yeah, I was just thinking I needed
to find some ketchup.”

“Ha-ha.”
Jason grabbed the room-service

menu and then brought it over to the bed,
propping himself against the headboard.
Patrick joined him there, and together
they perused the selections. It felt
oddly…domestic, but comfortable at the
same time. Jason wasn’t at all sure what
to make of that.

“A steak sounds pretty good. What

are you looking at?”

Patrick gave him a half smile.

“Steak.”

“We’re creatures of habit, aren’t

we?”

“Well, I eat with the team on the

road, so I’m guessing I’m as sick of
chicken and pasta as you are.” Patrick
slanted him a glance. “Wanna get a
bottle of wine, since we’re not leaving
tonight?”

“Sounds good.”
Not leaving tonight…
Jason chewed the inside of his

cheek. He’d agreed to spend the entire
night with this man. Would they sleep?
Fuck all night long? Play cards?

Patrick placed the order and then

went into the bathroom. Meanwhile
Jason tried to calm his now galloping
heart.

Everything’s okay. Don’t make too

much of this.

By the time the other man returned,

Jason had managed to calm himself, and
they shot the shit while Jason flipped
through the pay-per-view channels,
looking for a movie while they waited
for dinner.

The rest of the night passed without

either Patrick or him making a move on
the other. Instead they watched the
movie they’d picked out and stuffed
themselves with steak, wine, and a
dessert Patrick had ordered. Jason didn’t
often eat dessert during the season, but

when the tray came and Patrick offered
to split the slice of cheesecake with him,
he threw caution to the wind, figuring
he’d

expend

enough

calories

to

counteract the rich treat.

The movie ended, and Jason

watched as Patrick tried to hold in a
yawn.

“Sorry. I’ve been up for a long

time.”

“And you’re old.”
Patrick straight-armed him to the

bed, pushing up his T-shirt and flicking
his nipple.

“Ow!”
“Cut it out with the old-man jokes.”
“Cut it out with the kid references.”

“Deal.”
Patrick was leaning over him, and

Jason took the opportunity to reach a
hand up to cup the back of his neck.
Obligingly Patrick allowed Jason to
bring his head down, and their lips met
for a kiss. Whereas before their kisses
had been wild, almost desperate, now
they were languid and relaxed. Jason
wasn’t sure which he liked better.

Patrick slowly lowered his weight,

sliding a thick thigh between Jason’s as
he continued his slow assault. His lips
moved from Jason’s mouth, down his
jaw, and to his neck. With a little moan
Jason turned his face to the side to give
the other man better access.

“I want to mark you,” Patrick said.

Jason turned until his gaze collided

with Patrick’s. “You can’t. The guys
will notice.”

“Shh,” Patrick murmured, putting a

finger to Jason’s lips. “I know that and
I’m not going to, but fuck, I want to.”
Moving his finger, he then slid it down
the side of Jason’s neck. “Would love to
mark all this perfect skin up.”

“Perfect skin? Hardly.”
“Perfect to me.”
What the hell can I say to that?
He squirmed. “Um, thanks.”
Patrick reared back and stared at

Jason. “I just went too far, didn’t I? You
just drive me crazy.”

He sighed, and Jason wanted to say

it was all right, but it wasn’t, and he felt
weird.

“I’m sorry. I know this is supposed

to be us having fun, it’s just…”

Refusing to meet his gaze, Jason

said, “Don’t worry about it, dude.”

“Dude? Shit, I definitely went over

the line.” Rolling onto his back, Patrick
said, “I really didn’t mean anything by
it.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”
Liar.
Patrick looked over at him. “Are

you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”
“Do you still want to, you know?”
Jason’s eyebrow rose. “Want to do

what?”

“Fuck me.” The other man cleared

his throat. “Do you still want to fuck me?
If you don’t, that’s fine, we can just go to
sleep. I mean, we both had long days,
and—”

“Patrick.”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” Jason rolled to face

him and repeated, “I’m not mad, okay?”

Feeling a little weirded out, but

not mad.

“Okay.”
“And if you’re offering your ass,

you better believe I’m taking it.”

“Really?”
Jason laughed. “What gay man

would be able to refuse your tight ass
served up on a silver platter?”

“Uhh…”
“Don’t answer that.”
“It’s quite an image.”
With a chuckle Jason rolled away

to grab a condom and the lube. “Do you
do this often enough that you’d be okay
on your back? It would be kind of cool
to actually be able to see the face of the
man I’m fucking.”

“We can do that.”
“You sure? I don’t want to hurt

you.”

“I’m sure. I want to see you too.”

Jason poured a generous amount of

lube onto his fingers. “How slow do you
need me to go?”

“It’s been a while, but if I’m not

okay, I’ll let you know.”

He took his time preparing the other

man

until

finally

Patrick

moved

restlessly.

“I’m ready. Fuck me. God, I need

it.”

After wiping his hands, Jason

started to put on the condom and found
his fingers were shaking. Finally he got
the damn thing on. “Ready?”

Patrick nodded, his features tight

with arousal. “So ready.”

He pulled his legs up and wrapped

his arms around them, exposing his tight
hole, and Jason forced himself to take
several deep breaths.

“Are you this hesitant with your bar

hookups?”

Jason’s gaze flicked up to meet

Patrick’s. “What do you mean?”

“You seem really uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then give me your dick.”
Jason gave a little chuckle he knew

sounded forced. “Man, you’re pretty
bossy for a guy with his legs in the air.”

“You’re pretty tentative for a guy

who does this all the time.”

This is different.
Jason swallowed through what felt

like a beach ball in his throat. The best
way to get through this without losing his
mind was to take control, and Jason did.
“You wanna be fucked? You got it.” In
one smooth glide Jason slid his cock all
the way into the other man and groaned.

“That’s what I wanted, yeah. Now

fuck me with that nice big cock.”

So Jason did as he asked, pulling

out none too gently before slamming
back into Patrick. “You like that? You
want that?”

“Shit, yes.”
He couldn’t resist ribbing Patrick.

“I had no idea you were such a cock
slut.”

“What gave me away? The way I

drop to my knees to suck your dick as
soon as I see you, or the way I keep
begging you to bang me?”

A laugh sputtered out. “Hey,

anytime you wanna suck me off, just let
me know.”

Patrick bared his teeth. “Be careful

what you wish for, kid.”

Jason’s own teeth were clenched

against the barrage of sensations
arrowing through him like a lightning
bolt. “Don’t. Call. Me. Kid.”

“Fuck me.”
The words were little more than a

growl, and Jason redoubled his efforts,
thrusting so hard Patrick was moving up
the bed a few inches at a time.

“That’s it.”
Soon they were both breathing

hard. Jason grabbed Patrick’s cock and
quickly spread the precum over it before
beginning to jack the man hard. “Come
for me. Come all over your chest. I
wanna lick it off.”

Where the fuck did that come

from?

“Ah shit!”
Patrick’s body bowed as his

release took him over, and Jason
watched until his own climax crashed
into him and his eyes slammed shut.
When he came to, Patrick’s abs and
chest were dotted with his milky-white
seed, and after pulling out and quickly
tying off the condom, Jason did just what

he’d said he’d do. He leaned down and
licked the cum off the other man. The
taste of cum had never been a turn-on in
the least, but somehow he didn’t mind
Patrick’s. In fact, he found himself
craving it.

Dial it down, Jason.
They took a quick shower together,

too tired to do more than a cursory rinse,
and then crawled into bed. Jason
spooned Patrick again and fell into a
deep sleep.

Chapter Six

As Jason wandered through the

huge mall near his apartment, he
wondered if he was supposed to get
Patrick anything for Christmas. They’d
managed to meet once since the
overnight the day after Thanksgiving, but
Jason had no idea how to classify what
they were doing. Were they dating? Was
Patrick his boyfriend?

Jason made a face. It was weird to

call anybody his boyfriend, much less a
dude who had fifteen years on him.
Partner? Lover? He made another face.
Definitely not lover.

Should he call Patrick and ask? He

felt like an idiot, like he should know
what to do. But how would he? He’d
never been in a relationship before, and
he wasn’t even sure he was in one now.
With a sigh he hit Speed Dial Four—
yes, he’d put the man in his speed-dial
contacts, which had to mean something
—and pressed Call.

“Hey.”
“Hi. I have a really stupid question

to ask you.”

Patrick chuckled. “Okay.”
Jason took a deep breath. “Are we

dating?”

“Huh?”
“Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have

called.”

“Wait. Give me a minute.”
Jason heard some muffled voices,

and then Patrick came back on the line.

“Sorry. I was in the training room.”
“I didn’t even think about that.”

Jason felt his face flaming and turned
away from the bustling shoppers. “I
shouldn’t have called you. It’s just… I’m
at the mall—”

“No, it’s fine, really. You just

surprised me.”

“I feel like an idiot.”
“Why? For calling me?”
“For not knowing what we’re

doing.”

“Oh, hon, don’t feel stupid. I don’t

know what we’re doing either.”

“You don’t?” The last word came

out a good octave higher than his normal
speech, and as his blush deepened, Jason
laid his forehead on the wall next to him.
This was mortifying.

“Not really. I mean, we never

talked about it.” The other man paused
and then continued. “Are you…are you
seeing anybody else?”

“No.”
“Hooking up with anybody?”
“God, no. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Neither am I, on either count,

which means we’re exclusively seeing
each other. I’m not sure I’d call it dating,
since that usually involves, you know,
going out on dates. Is that what you

wanted to know?”

“Yes. No.” Jason made a frustrated

noise and rolled his eyes toward the
heavens. “I’m at the mall, and I didn’t
know if I should buy you something for
Christmas.” The words rushed out
before he could stop them, and Jason
seriously considered investigating ways
to make somebody forget a conversation.
If there was such a thing, he’d be lining
up to get ahold of it so he could wipe
this ridiculously awkward encounter
from Patrick’s mind.

“Babe, take a breath.”
Obligingly Jason took in a deep

breath and let it out slowly.

“Better. Now, what do you want to

do? We both have enough money that

neither of us needs anything, but if you
want to exchange gifts, we certainly
can.”

Jason tried to think fast. He was a

terrible present giver and definitely
didn’t feel like he knew Patrick well
enough to come up with anything decent.
“How about this? Next time we see each
other, we’ll actually leave the hotel
room and have dinner somewhere.”

“You sure you want to do that?”
“Men go out to eat together all the

time. And we’ll be in Trenton.”

“Some people might consider that a

date.”

“So it’s a date. The idea doesn’t

bother me.”

“Is it what you want?”
“Do I want to date you? I have no

freaking idea, since I’ve never done it
before and I don’t really understand
what’s involved.” Jason could swear he
heard Patrick sigh on the other end of the
phone.

“It means we’re not just fuck

buddies. That we actually care about
each other.”

“You thought I didn’t care about

you?” The words came out louder than
he’d intended, and he wondered if this
conversation could get even more
embarrassing. Doubtful, you moron.

“Calm down.”
He cleared his throat. “I am calm.”

“Right… Look, I know you care

about me. No one could kiss like you do
and not give a damn.” Patrick took an
audible breath and continued. “But that
doesn’t mean we have to start talking
about a commitment ceremony or
anything. I think the idea of a nice dinner
out when we see each other is good.
Other than that, let’s just play things by
ear. With the Games coming up, we’re
going to have all the pressure we can
handle without worrying about how to
label this thing.”

Jason knew Patrick was right, but

for some strange reason he felt let down.
Not willing to reason out why the hell
that might be, he said, “Okay. That
makes sense.”

“You don’t sound sure.”
“No, I am. But you know I don’t

have experience with this stuff, so I’m
really just following your lead.”

“Do you want something different?”
“I’m fine. Seriously.”
“As long as you’re sure… I want

you to be happy, and I don’t want you to
feel like I’m railroading you.”

“I don’t.”
“Okay. Now do I get to ask you

something stupid?”

Jason chuckled. “Sure.”
“What’re you wearing?”
“Dude!”
“What?”

“You’re sick.”
“I’m horny,” Patrick shot back.
“Uh-huh. And you call me a kid.”
Patrick’s voice lowered, and he

said, “I want to suck your cock.”

Jason pulled the phone away from

his ear and stared at it before holding it
to his ear again. “What?”

“You heard me. I want your dick in

my mouth. I want to suck you. I want to
roll your balls around on my tongue. I
want your cum. I jerked off last night,
thinking about it, and I could swear I
tasted you in my mouth.”

“Jesus,” Jason muttered.
“I’m gonna go home right now and

jerk off to that again. When will you be

done shopping? We could have phone
sex.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“I started thinking about you. That’s

all it took. You are no doubt the sexiest
man I’ve ever seen. So how about it?”

“The phone sex?”
“Yeah.”
Jason smirked. “I’ll think about it.”
“Tease.”
“Later, man.”
He had a sudden urge to leave the

mall and pushed the heel of his hand into
his crotch to dispel the hard-on before
turning and heading for his car. When he
got home, he called Patrick back.

“Well, hello.”

Situating himself on his comfy

couch, Jason said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”
“Fuck you. You got me all excited.

Now do something about it.”

“Honey, you take a deep breath and

pop a woody. It’s not all that much of an
accomplishment.”

“And fuck you again.”
“Don’t get testy.”
“You’re enjoying this way too

much.”

Patrick laughed. “Was that sonic

boom I heard a little while ago from
your car heading home from the mall?”

“Are we gonna do this or not?”
“Is your dick out?”

Whoa, change of topic.
Jason fumbled around for a minute,

pulling his jeans down to his knees and
chucking his shirt in the general
direction of the coffee table. “It is now.”

“Man, I wish I could see it.”
“And suck it, apparently.”
The other man groaned. “And

definitely suck it.”

“Is yours out?”
“Yeah. I was just about to start

when you called.”

“Good. Now what do we do?”
“Follow my instructions.”
Jason nodded and then realized

Patrick couldn’t see him. “Okay.”

“Turn on speakerphone, and put the

phone somewhere close enough that you
can hear me.”

“Got

it,”

he

said

into

the

speakerphone. “Can you hear me?”

“Yep. Now grab your dick in one

hand and cup your balls with the other.”

Jason shifted. “I am.”
“Shit, this is so sexy, thinking about

you doing all these things after I tell you
to, thinking about you touching yourself.”

“I was thinking about it all the way

home. I’m not gonna last long.”

“Try to hold off for me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Hang on, I forgot. You got any

lotion or lube or anything?”

Jason grabbed his coat from where

he’d slung it over the back of the couch.
He always kept a couple of those little
disposable lube packets in an inside
pocket just in case. “Yeah, got some.”

“That’ll make it easier. Start

jacking yourself, just slowly.”

After pouring some lube on his

fingers, Jason did as Patrick bade.
“You’re killing me. Are you doing it
too?”

“Yeah…”
Jason made an unintelligible sound

when Patrick admitted it, and heard a
strained laugh in response.

Patrick asked, “Does it feel good?”
“So fucking good. Not as good as

you, though.”

“Sweet talker. Keep going, but tell

me if you’re getting close. Are your
balls shaved right now?”

“Yes.” Jason had been keeping

them like that ever since Patrick had
mentioned he liked it.

“Did you do that for me?”
Jason moaned. “Yes.”
“I wish I was there. I’d take each

one into my mouth and suck it gently.”

Another moan came from deep

within Jason, and he had no idea how
long he could hold off his orgasm.

Patrick swore under his breath.

“Would you like that? Would you like
me to suck your balls?”

“Yeah, oh God, yeah.”

“I will, next time I see you.”
All Jason could do was moan

again. Why was this so ridiculously hot?

“I know I told you this before, but I

want to suck your cock so fucking badly
right now. Can you imagine that? My
lips around the head of your dick?”

“Oh please…” Jason wasn’t above

begging. He needed to come.

“Do you want to come?”
“Yes, shit, feels so fucking good.”
“Come for me, baby.”
Patrick’s

words

set

off

an

explosion deep inside Jason. His spine
snapped straight, and his legs locked as
semen began to spurt out of his cock onto
his hand and stomach. He heard Patrick

go off and hoped Patrick either lived in a
house or had thick walls, because wow,
did that man bellow when he came.

Both of them took time to get their

breathing back under control, and Jason
grabbed a couple of tissues to clean
himself up a little. He’d need a shower,
but right now even getting off the couch
seemed impossible. Sitting there, his
pants still at his knees, Jason wondered
how it was possible that sex with
Patrick just got better and better. Hell,
they weren’t even in the same state right
now, and it was still hot as hell.

“You’re amazing, Jason.”
Jason groaned. “No, you are.”
“I guess we’re both amazing, then,”

Patrick said with a laugh. “Feel better?”

“I think my legs are numb.”
“Uh-oh. Don’t tell the coaches I

was the cause.” Patrick paused a beat
and then swore. “That was stupid of me
to say. I know you wouldn’t.”

“I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“I know that.”
“I wish things were different,”

Jason replied, dropping his head back on
the cushion behind him.

“They are changing. I can feel it.”
“Not soon enough.”
“Hey, don’t go getting down on

everything.”

“I won’t.”
Patrick snorted. “Promise me?

Don’t make me come over there.”

“I wish you could.”
“I wish I could too.” The older man

cleared his throat. “Anyway, I should let
you go.”

“Yeah, okay.”
“Talk to you soon?”
They hung up, and Jason blew out a

loud breath. Patrick’s retort brought
home the fact that no matter what
happened between him and Patrick, they
couldn’t go public. Maybe things were
changing, but Jason knew there was still
rampant passive homophobia in hockey.
He hadn’t seen a lot of blatant stuff—no
direct slurs or anything—but the culture
still bred casual homophobia, which
was no better. Any gay kid playing
hockey heard faggot and the like tossed

around. The guys didn’t mean it, but it
was there anyway, and it was pretty
fucking difficult not to let it intimidate
you.

With a sigh Jason rose and pulled

his jeans up, not bothering to do them.
Going into the bathroom, he turned on
the shower and undressed. He showered
quickly and with that task completed,
made himself some dinner and fell
asleep on the couch not a half hour after
he finished eating. When he awoke
nearly twelve hours later, his bladder
screaming for relief, he wasn’t sure what
to think.

They had established they were

dating. Sort of. He still didn’t know
what to call Patrick, but since he wasn’t

about to tell anyone about their
relationship anyway, he supposed it
didn’t matter. And then that phone sex?
God. The phone sex had blown his mind.
Jason smiled. That wasn’t all that had
blown. He’d come like a fucking geyser.

Sighing, he sat up and scrubbed his

hands over his face. He had practice
soon, and he hadn’t eaten yet, so he
needed to get his ass in gear. Right now
his head wasn’t in the game, which was
dangerous for a lot of reasons. Shaking
his head, Jason rose and stretched. He
needed to concentrate on today’s
practice and worry about everything else
later. With his head cleared, at least for
the time being, Jason took care of
business in the bathroom and then went

to make himself some food.

* * * *

Patrick couldn’t remember the last

time he’d slept so soundly. Good thing
the team wasn’t leaving for their away
game until early afternoon after practice
—a practice Patrick wasn’t required to
attend. He lazed around, drinking coffee
and puttering on his laptop until it was
time to drive to the airport. As he drove,
he thought about Jason, and a silly smile
crept onto his face.

The man was adorable and sexy all

at the same time. Patrick had no idea
how he pulled off that combination, but
he did. He couldn’t wait to see him
again and hoped like hell it would be

soon. They’d said no presents for
Christmas, but Patrick had ordered
something for Jason this morning, and he
couldn’t fucking wait to see the man in
it. His mouth filled with saliva, and he
had to consciously swallow.

I’m so fucking obsessed. What is it

about him?

He hardly ever even thought about

the continued risk he was taking in
seeing Jason. Somehow, when they were
together, it just didn’t matter, and when
they were apart, Patrick wanted to see
him so badly he ignored the possible
ramifications.

When the team returned home a few

days later, there was a small package
sitting on Patrick’s doorstep. With a grin

he picked it up and then unlocked his
door. Plopping on the couch, Patrick
removed his jacket before reaching for
the box.

A scrap of spandex fell out once he

opened it.

Fuck, yeah. This will look fucking

incredible on him.

He debated taking a picture of the

garment and sending it to Jason but
decided to leave it as a surprise. Pulling
his phone out of his pocket, he dialed
Jason and waited. He wouldn’t tell him
what the present was, but he could still
tease him.

“Hey, man.”
“Hey. Is this a good time?”

“Yeah, I just got home from lunch

with the guys. What’s up?”

“I want to see you.”
“Now?”
Patrick laughed at the near panic in

the younger man’s voice. “Well, now
would be ideal, but I understand we
need to plan these excursions.”

“Excursions?

What

are

we,

explorers?”

Jason chuckled, and Patrick smiled.

“There are many, many places I want to
explore on your body.”

“And you call me the young and

horny one.”

“You bring it out in me; what can I

say?” Patrick sat back. “So when can

you take an excursion?”

“Um, hang on. I gotta go get our

schedule. I’ve got one on the fridge.”
Patrick heard Jason moving through his
apartment. “I think I could come on
Thursday, but I wouldn’t be able to
spend the night. We’ve got a game the
next day and then the two days off for
Christmas. My parents are flying down
to watch me play, and then staying over
the holidays.”

“The entire holidays? Like through

New Year’s?”

“Yeah. They always do. My brother

is in the army and I can never get away,
so they always come to me. If my brother
can get home, he comes with them.”

“I guess that means we won’t see

each other for a while after Thursday.”

“Don’t you go see family or have

them come to you?”

“No. My siblings have families of

their own, and my sister is my mom’s
caretaker.”

“Man, that sucks. So you’re going

to be alone on Christmas?”

“Nah. One of the wives will have

all us single guys over.”

“That still sucks. I wish—”
Jason stopped, and Patrick closed

his eyes as pain speared through his
skull. At this point obsession didn’t even
seem like a strong-enough word for this
thing with Jason. What was worse than
obsession?

“I know. So do I.”
“Yeah, ‘sucks’ really seems to sum

it up. And not in a good way,” Jason
grumbled.

“Hey. I’ll be okay. I’m used to

this.”

But I want to see you all the time,

and I hate that, and I love that.

“Did you ever, you know, have a

guy over Christmas?”

“Yeah, once, years ago. He wasn’t

in the game; he was a bartender at a gay
bar, actually. So of course he was out.”

“And you weren’t.”
“You got it. He wanted me to meet

his parents and shit, and I just couldn’t.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“No, but I lost him because of it, as

I should have.”

Jason made a dismissive noise.

“He doesn’t know how it is for guys like
us. Not everyone can come out and
march in a fucking gay pride parade if
they feel like it.”

“Look, I didn’t want to upset you.”
“You didn’t. I just get sick of

feeling guilty for not being out.”

“It’s a personal decision.”
“Anyway, would Thursday work

for you?”

Patrick decided to let Jason off the

hook. Obviously he was uncomfortable
talking about the topic of coming out,
and Patrick wasn’t going to push him.

It’s not like he was signing up to march
himself. He would be a hypocrite if he
told Jason he should consider coming
out. During his playing days and even
now, he wasn’t ready to take that step.

“I’ll be there. I really can’t wait for

you to see what I got.”

“I thought we weren’t doing

presents?”

“We’re not. This is a just a little

thing I picked up.”

Emphasis on little.
“Can’t wait.”
The seductive tone of the other

man’s voice had Patrick’s cock taking
notice.

“See you soon.”

“Yeah, see ya.” He hung up and

looked down at his way-too-tight jeans.
“I should really learn to take off
restrictive garments before I talk to that
kid.”

* * * *

Jason was nervous as he pulled into

the hotel parking garage in Trenton.
Patrick had mentioned there was some
sort of little thing for him, and a million
different ideas ran through his mind
before he’d forced himself to just wait to
see what it was. He used the key Patrick
had left at the front desk and let himself
into the room, finding Patrick in the
shower. So as not to scare the other man,
he made plenty of noise and heard

Patrick call out a greeting from the
bathroom. Figuring it was okay to go in
there and ogle now that Patrick was
aware he was there, Jason opened the
bathroom door and let out a billow of
steam.

He pulled the shower curtain

partially open and reached in to grab the
back of Patrick’s neck and pull his head
forward. Bringing their lips together, he
plunged into Patrick’s mouth, exploring
and tasting mint and coffee. Mmm, a
favorite combination of his. He released
Patrick and took a moment to slide his
gaze up and down the man’s wet, naked
body.

“Now this is what I like.” Patrick

turned a little to face him fully, palming

his already hard dick.

“Oh yeah?”
With his other hand, he reached to

the side and turned off the water. Jason
licked his lips. The man was freaking
edible, and Jason decided to do just that.
Dropping to his knees outside the tub, he
grabbed Patrick’s hips and urged him
closer. Patrick planted a hand on the
tiled wall next to him with a grunt as
Jason swallowed his dick. Never in a
million years did he think he’d enjoy
giving head this much, but it was pretty
cool, knowing he was driving Patrick
out of his mind.

Patrick was mumbling a litany of

nonsense punctuated with swear words
as Jason licked and sucked up and down

his shaft. He gently placed one of
Patrick’s feet on the ledge of the tub,
opening the man to him, and began to
tongue his heavy balls. A hand landed on
his head as Patrick’s breath caught.
Jason moved away, craning his head
down and using his hands to separate
Patrick’s ass cheeks. With trepidation,
he stared at the pucker of Patrick’s anus.
He’d never rimmed anyone before, had
never wanted to, but Patrick was fresh
from a shower.

He looked up and gestured in the

general direction of Patrick’s ass. “Can
I?”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Can

you what?”

“I want to”—he cleared his throat

—“taste you. Your ass.”

Now the other eyebrow joined the

first one. “Be my guest.”

“Would it be easier some other

way? Like, should we do it on the bed?”

“If you want to. Of course, if you

start driving me crazy, I might fall in
here and conk my head.” He grinned.
“Or break a hip.”

Jason nodded and tried to school

his expression without much success.
“Let’s go then.” After handing Patrick a
towel, he walked out of the bathroom
and began to disrobe. Jason pointed to
the bed. “Lie down. Wait, scratch that.
Try on your hands and knees. That might
work better.”

“Your wish is my command.”
“Oh really?”
Patrick turned his head to grin at

him. “Within reason, of course.”

Jason situated himself between

Patrick’s spread thighs. “I’ll keep that in
mind.” He pulled the older man’s ass
cheeks apart, baring his tightly clenched
hole. “Nervous?”

“God, no. Excited.”
“Good.” Burying his face in the

cleft of Patrick’s ass, Jason gave a
tentative lick, and Patrick reared off the
bed. “Okay?”

“Fuck. I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“I want you to,” Jason mumbled

before bending to his task once more.

This time he was less tentative, and
Patrick pounded the mattress with one
hand. Pushing his hands farther into
Patrick’s ass crack, Jason then used his
thumbs to gently open the other man
before spearing his tongue inside like
he’d seen guys do in the hours of gay
porn he’d watched over the years. Plus
when Patrick had done that to him, he’d
nearly crawled out of his own skin with
pleasure.

“Fuck me.”
“Later.”
Patrick let out a high-pitched

chuckle, and Jason continued on, pushing
into the man’s ass again and again and
feeling the muscles begin to give way.
After a few more minutes he grabbed the

lube

Patrick

had

so

thoughtfully

deposited on the nightstand and began to
prepare Patrick for his dick.

“I need you.”
“I won’t do this without preparing

you first. Be patient.”

The older man moaned as Jason

twisted his fingers inside his channel.

“I’m ready, do it now.”
Jason put a condom on in record

time and slicked his cock with lube.
“Tell me if it’s too fast.”

“Fuck me,” the man practically

growled, pushing back on Jason and
impaling himself. “Yes,” he hissed.
“Damn it, yes.”

“I want to fuck you hard. Can you

take it?” Jason could already feel the
steam building inside him, that feral
need to pound the other man into the
mattress.

“Do it.”
With a growl Jason pulled out and

then slammed back in. “Like it?”

“Yes.”
He set up a punishing rhythm but

found Patrick could more than keep up,
pushing his ass back into Jason even as
Jason thrust forward. The sounds of raw
sex filled the room as both men raced
toward completion. Jason had ahold of
Patrick’s hips with a white-knuckled
grip as he felt his orgasm begin to roll
down his spine. Knowing he wouldn’t
last much longer, he reached around and

tugged on Patrick’s dick. “Come. I don’t
until you do, and I’m fucking close.”

“Shit.” Patrick clamped around

him, and then Jason felt Patrick’s dick
pulse before jets of white-hot cum
poured over his hand. That set off his
own release, and Jason filled the
condom on a hoarse shout.

Jason collapsed on top of Patrick

briefly but pulled out and rolled to the
side after a moment. He knew he wasn’t
a light man, and he didn’t want to crush
Patrick.

Looking over at Patrick, whose

eyes were closed and limbs akimbo, he
said with a grin, “So, you hungry?”

Patrick gave him a ghost of a smile

but didn’t open his eyes. “You’re not

actually expecting me to walk after that.”

“I thought we were going out to eat.

You know, like on a date.”

Cracking one eye open, the other

man regarded him. “You’ll really go?”

“Why not? Like I said, two guys go

out to dinner all the time, and no one
thinks anything of it.”

“If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. Now get up.” Jason

slapped Patrick’s ass hard, then watched
as a handprint bloomed on the pale ass
cheek. “Oh, I like that. Very sexy.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”
“Then cover that ass.” He sat up

and leaned back on his hands. “Hey, I
believe you had a surprise for me. Am I

ever going to get it?”

Patrick grinned and then got off the

bed, heading for the duffel he’d thrown
on the chair. Withdrawing a small gift
bag, he brought it over and handed it to
Jason.

“You should see your face right

now.”

“I’m trying not to imagine all the

things this could be.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Open it.”
Pulling the tissue paper out, Jason

spied the garment and removed it. He
held it up and turned it from side to side.
“What the hell is it?”

“A jockstrap. Surely you recognize

those.”

“This doesn’t look like any jock

I’ve ever seen. I mean, I know jocks
don’t normally have fabric over the ass,
but this is…different.”

“But that’s why it’s so awesome.

When I saw it, I knew I had to get it for
you. I can’t fucking wait to see how it
frames your ass.”

Jason couldn’t hold in a laugh,

thinking that was exactly what this thing
would do. His laughter didn’t deter
Patrick.

“Put it on, please, baby. I need to

see it.”

Jason rose and grabbed the

contraption. Stepping into it, he pulled it
up his legs and settled the front portion
before reaching back and adjusting the

straps going from the waistband down to
the crotch. “How does it look?”

“Like you can’t fucking imagine.”

Patrick reached out a hand and ran it
down Jason’s cleft. “I know we need to
eat, but man, would I love to fuck you
right now. Will you wear it to the
restaurant? Just thinking about you in
that’s gonna make me crazy through
dinner, but I’ll love it. It’s a good
crazy.”

“A good crazy…”
Jason must’ve looked doubtful,

because Patrick grabbed him and
practically growled in his ear.

“A very, very good crazy.”
“Then I’ll wear it. I kinda like the

thought of you sitting across from me in
the restaurant with a big ole stiffy and
not being able to do anything about it.”

Patrick groaned. “Let’s go before I

toss you on the bed and have my wicked
way with that ass.”

They went to dinner at a local

restaurant after conferring with the
concierge and chuckled when they both
ordered steaks. Patrick also ordered
lobster tails and a bottle of wine to
share, and by the time they got back to
the room, they were stuffed. Patrick
wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck.
“I wish you could stay the night.”

“Me too.”
“How soon do you need to leave?”

Jason glanced at the clock on the

nightstand. “I should probably get on the
road in an hour or two.”

“Then there’s time to fuck you

wearing my present. Please, can I? I
want you so fucking bad.”

He turned and bent over the bed,

presenting his jeans-clad ass to Patrick.
“I guess you’d better, then.”

Patrick groaned. “Strip for me. Go

nice and slow, so I can enjoy it.
Remember to leave the jockstrap on,
though. I wanna fuck you while you’re
wearing it. Just thinking about it has my
dick hard.”

Backing away from the bed, Jason

began to sway to the music he heard
inside his head. At first he was a little

embarrassed, but when he looked into
Patrick’s lust-blown pupils, he felt like a
sex god. Taking his time, he revealed his
body one piece at a time. Patrick ran his
tongue over his lips, and Jason knew
neither of them would last long at this
rate, but he didn’t care. He needed
Patrick like he needed air, and he wasn’t
willing to spend time considering why
or the ramifications of it at the moment.

Reaching for Patrick, Jason ran his

hand down the side of the other man’s
face. “You make me feel so good.”

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Jason ducked his

head, murmuring, “Where do you want
me?”

“Bend over the bed like you were.”

He did, and Patrick let out a low

whistle.

“Hot damn, that’s sexy.”
“Glad you like it.”
Patrick pushed down on Jason’s

back. “Arch that back a little more. I
want your ass offered to me like the
prize it is.”

“Corny and kinky, all at the same

time.”

“Behave, or I won’t fuck you.”
“Yeah, right. You can’t resist.”
“Ugh, true.”
Two lubed fingers pushed into

Jason, and his head dropped.

“You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just so fucking

horny, and I can’t even get to my cock
with this contraption on.”

“You young kids…”
Jason snorted. “I think you love that

I’m a young, horny stud.”

“I do.” The wide head of Patrick’s

dick began to thrust inside of him with
shallow strokes, and Jason bit his lip.
Never in a million years did he think
he’d ever willingly bottom, but he was
so glad he’d tried it. Now he loved it
almost as much as he liked topping.
He’d still never let someone he didn’t
trust so much do it, but he knew Patrick
would never hurt him.

Despite having come already, both

men found their releases quickly, since
they were so keyed up from the extended

buildup over dinner. With a long, low
groan Jason emptied himself right into
the jockstrap, and Patrick followed
shortly thereafter. The older man
withdrew, and Jason had the presence of
mind to roll onto his back before
plopping on the bed. He looked down at
the dark stain on the front of the pseudo-
underwear and snickered.

“Gonna have to give those a good

wash, huh?” Patrick teased.

“You made me do it. Maybe you

should wash them.”

“Big baby.”
Jason turned his head enough to

glance at the alarm clock. “Shit, I gotta
go. Do you mind if I jump in the shower
and then get on the road?”

“No problem, babe. I promise not

to join you in the shower and delay your
journey.”

“While the idea of delaying my trip

to get my hands on you again is tempting,
I really do need to leave.”

“I know.”
By the time he’d showered and

gotten back into his clothes, Jason had to
skedaddle, and after a final, breathless
kiss he left. When he arrived back at his
place, he dropped onto his bed, still
fully clothed, and closed his eyes. He
was addicted. He might as well admit it,
at least to himself. Now what was he
going to do about it?

Chapter Seven

With

Christmas

finished,

the

Olympics were bearing down on
Patrick. The team would meet in Boston
with the rest of the Team USA contingent
in a couple of weeks, and then fly over
to Geneva from there. The idea of being
in the same vicinity with Jason for three
weeks during the Games was both
exciting and nerve-racking.

But he had to get through New

Year’s Eve first.

One of the well-meaning wives of

one of the other staff members from
Philly, Carol, seemed to have made it
her life’s mission to get Patrick hooked

up with a woman. He’d gotten a lot of
“why aren’t you married, a sweet guy
like you” and “you’re so hot, and you
have a stable job, I can’t understand why
women aren’t flocking to you” comments
from her over the past few years but had
ignored

them—until

she

started

mentioning her single friends. Patrick
had been with Philly as a scout ever
since his retirement, and it was
becoming impossible to deflect her
attempts at match making.

On this particular evening the team

was throwing a party. The owner figured
if the players were somewhere they
could be monitored, they’d be less likely
to get into trouble, so they’d all been
encouraged—forced,

more

like,

management and staff included—to don
tuxes and gather in the banquet room of a
local restaurant. Fortunately the couple
who owned the restaurant insisted on
discretion from its staff, and they hadn’t
had all manner of people trying to sneak
into the party, but several “friends” had
managed to find their way in, including
two different women who happened to
know Carol.

Janette was a willowy blonde of

about forty-five who kept running her
fingertips up the sleeve of Patrick’s
jacket. Each time she did, it was all he
could do not to flinch. It wasn’t that
women disgusted him, but the calculated,
hungry look in her eyes scared the hell
out of him. The other, Brittany, was a

brunette with a sweet smile, and that
was almost worse. It was easier to
politely repel the attentions of the
obvious Janette than it was the subtle
niceness displayed by Brittany.

All Patrick wanted to do was

leave, drive to New Jersey, and sink
inside Jason. His team hadn’t made the
players come to a cheesy party, and
Jason was currently in Manhattan.
Patrick’s phone chimed, and he turned
away to discreetly pull it out.

So what’s it like over there?
Patrick smiled.
A morgue. How is it where you

are?

He felt a hand on his arm and

brushed it away, tired of being polite.

Watching as teammates drink like

fishes and fuck random women in the
bathroom. All in all, a screaming good
time.

Ah, so maybe this party wasn’t so

bad in comparison.

Ugh, that sucks.
He sighed. This whole thing

sucked.

I’d rather you were here sucking

me.

With a chuckle Patrick replied.
I bet you do.
He was trying to keep things light,

but the lure of the door was strong. If the
team wasn’t playing the next day, Patrick

would’ve hightailed it into New York
City and found a way to fuck his man six
ways to Sunday. His man? Shit. He
needed to face the fact he was getting in
deeper with Jason than he should be, but
the young man’s magnetism was drawing
him in. With the Olympics coming up,
Patrick was at a loss for what to do. If
they got caught together during the
Olympics…

Patrick’s stomach churned. But I’m

not giving him up. No fucking way.

With a little smile he tapped out

another message.

What I wanna do is bend you over

and fuck the hell out of you right now.
Sucking that nice thick cock off sounds
pretty fantastic too.

Patrick’s cock twitched, and he

quickly glanced around, making sure no
one was paying attention to him.

Don’t say shit like that when I’m

in a roomful of people. It’s not that
easy to cover a stiffy with a beer bottle,
you know.

A brief flash of Jason on his knees

with his mouth stuffed full of Patrick’s
dick came into his mind and forced his
eyes closed. He needed to get control of
himself, now, before someone noticed.
This was a team function, and even
texting back and forth like they were was
a dangerous game. Then the thought of
Janette seeing his erection and thinking it
was because of her doused the fire pretty
good, but Patrick still wondered if he

could just leave so he could jerk off in
the privacy of his own home.

Another text came in from Jason.
Sorry. I just don’t know how long I

can do this.

Patrick’s eyebrows shot up.
What the hell does that mean?
With bated breath, he waited for the

other man’s answer. Were they breaking
up as he sat at this shitty party? He felt
tears prick the corners of his eyes, and
quickly turned a little more away from
the room.

I’m just frustrated. I hate lying.

The guys keep asking me why I don’t
want some chick to suck my dick. I
can’t exactly tell them I’d rather have

a dude do it.

Sighing, Patrick rubbed the bridge

of his nose with his thumb and index
finger. He knew exactly how Jason felt.
He’d been doing the same thing for
years, way longer than Jason, in fact.

I understand, and I wish it was

different.

Patrick picked up the drink next to

him on the table and slammed it in one
swallow. They weren’t exactly making
strong drinks at this farce of a
celebration, so he wasn’t worried about
getting drunk.

Yeah, but it’s not. Anyway, I need

to get back. Grabowski’s about to fall
over. I should get him home.

Being the sober one only made

things worse, Patrick guessed.

Okay. I’m getting out of here soon

too. I’ll call you later.

After disconnecting the call, Patrick

lifted his head and looked for his boss,
the team’s general manager. Spying him,
he quickly made his way over and said
his good-byes, then left before Janette
could get her claws into him. He could
feel her staring daggers into his back and
shuddered, but nothing was going to stop
him from getting the hell out of there. His
phone chimed again.

Yeah, call me.
Luckily Patrick was in his car

within minutes. It was only a little after
eleven, and he hoped Jason might make

it home in time to receive his call at
midnight. It felt kind of corny to want to
talk to him just as the New Year struck,
but that’s all Patrick could think about.

Right before the clock rang in the

New Year, Patrick dialed Jason.

“Hey, man.”
“Hey. I got Grabowski home, but

I’m stuck right before the Holland
Tunnel. Probably gonna lose you soon.”

Patrick nodded and then realized

Jason couldn’t see him. “Okay. I just
wanted to say Happy New Year, and that
I wish you were here.”

“You know we can’t do that.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t like the thought

of you there with girls hanging all over

you while I sat here at mine with my
thumb up my ass.”

“That didn’t happen, though of

course a couple tried. Just like you, no
doubt. I’m pretty good at deflecting
female attention. I had a couple of beers
and watched my teammates get stupid
drunk.”

Patrick heard Jason sigh.
“Look, the tunnel’s coming up. Can

we talk about this shit later?”

“Whatever.”
“Don’t be mad.”
That’s not the problem. You’re

drifting

away,

and

I’m

fucking

panicking.

“I’ll let you go. Talk soon.”

“Later.”
He hung up and lay back in bed,

feeling completely bereft and wondering
if Jason was experiencing the same kind
of melancholy. Patrick jumped to his
feet, trapping his legs in the covers and
nearly falling on his ass.

I’m in love with him. Fuck fuck

fuck. I’m in love with the kid.

Pacing, Patrick tried to reconcile

himself to what he knew to be true. He
didn’t just want Jason, he needed him.
He counted on Jason to make him happy.
Jason was about the only thing that made
him happy these days, in fact.

He didn’t even want to think about

the ramifications of his revelation but
knew he’d have to, and sooner rather

than later. If they went to Geneva with
this much unresolved crap between
them, it could lead to trouble. Patrick
didn’t have a clue how Jason felt.
Maybe he was just getting his rocks off.
That thought made him want to puke.

And he felt badly about what he’d

said and how he’d treated Jason earlier.
It wasn’t normal for him to act like a
jealous bitch. He knew he wouldn’t be
able to sleep with things the way they
were, so he pulled out his phone once
more and texted Jason.

I’m sorry. I was a dick. You didn’t

deserve that.

A moment later Jason returned the

text.

Don’t

worry

about

it.

The

situation sucks, but there’s nothing we
can do about it. Go to sleep. Talk
tomorrow.

Patrick smiled. At least he hadn’t

fucked everything up.

Okay, talk tomorrow. Sleep well.

Happy New Year, baby.

Almost immediately his phone

buzzed.

You too. See you soon!
With a sigh, Patrick turned off his

bedside light and slid under the covers.
He was fucked.

* * * *

The dueling feelings of dread and

excitement didn’t taper off a bit as
Patrick left for Boston a few weeks

later. Team USA was convening as a
whole—all the sports—and having a day
of meetings before flying over to
Geneva. Patrick had been involved in
the Olympics both as a player and as an
advisor, but it never failed to bring a
swell of pride when he walked into the
hotel grand ballroom and saw everybody
decked out in red, white, and blue.

This was the first time since

Christmas he and Jason would see each
other. Nearly a month had gone by since
then, with both of them busy traveling as
the NHL schedule pushed on. Patrick
didn’t want to admit how much he was
anticipating even a glimpse of the man.
Over the past couple of weeks, after
countless hours of arguing with himself,

pacing his house like a caged lion, and
trying to fool himself into thinking a real,
permanent relationship with Jason could
work, Patrick had finally decided it
wouldn’t do any good to continue to
consider every angle until he could talk
to Jason. And there was no fucking way
that was going to happen until after the
Olympics.

He was sitting with the other

hockey coaches and advisors and knew
he needed to play it cool, lest someone
notice his particular interest in one of the
players. As he waited, Patrick’s stomach
churned, and despite the cool of the
room, a bead of sweat rolled down his
back. It had been weeks since he’d even
set eyes on Jason. How the hell would

he make it through weeks of being in
close proximity with the man?

Several entrances to the ballroom

were available, and all of them were
behind Patrick, so there was no way to
watch for Jason. His leg began to bounce
the closer the time got to the start of the
meeting with no sign of him or several
other players. He was about to ask if
someone should go out searching for the
men when they walked in en masse.
Patrick smiled, not surprised they were
traveling in a pack. It wasn’t that hockey
players weren’t friendly; they just liked
to stick together.

In the middle of the group was

Jason, looking fresh from a shower with
his hair still damp and curling at the

ends. He was clad in the same clothing
as the other players, a tracksuit in USA
colors and bright blue sneakers that had
been given to every Team USA member
by one of the major shoe manufacturers.
Despite the fact that he was dressed
identically to the other guys, Patrick
knew exactly what the body underneath
the vinyl suit looked like, and like a
freaking Pavlov dog, his mouth watered.

He realized he’d been staring at the

group when one of the other advisors
leaned over and said, “Are they all
here? You doing a count?”

Patrick hastily did one, his face

flaming. “They’re moving around, so it’s
tough, but I think so.” Clearing his throat,
he added, “Maybe when they sit down

it’ll be easier.”

The other man nodded, and Patrick

closed his eyes. He needed to get a grip
before someone put one and one together
and came up with him and Jason.
Sighing, he turned his attention to the
front of the room and the director of
Team USA, who had just approached the
microphone.

After a couple of hours of stuff

being handed out and directions being
given, the members scattered in all
directions, and Patrick had to laugh.
Each sport got its own meeting room at
the hotel, outfitted with their particular
pins,

T-shirts,

hats,

and

other

memorabilia. Athletes could go from
room to room, collecting whatever they

wanted, and they went after the swag
with a vengeance, several of them
getting down to their skivvies to try
things on. Patrick already had more than
enough Team USA paraphernalia, so
along with most of the other hockey staff,
he found himself in the hotel’s bar.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket,

he quickly texted Jason.

Let me know when you’re done

and if you can meet up.

A few minutes later his phone

vibrated. Patrick discreetly checked it
under the table.

Not sure. Guys are talking about

hanging out.

Patrick considered for a moment.

There was no team dinner scheduled for
that evening, since the staff had figured
the group would be spending enough
time together at the actual Games, but it
was likely that he would get invited to
go out with the guys sitting around him.
He really wanted to see Jason, though,
and as he responded, he couldn’t stop
the sinking feeling in his gut.

Okay. If you have some time, try

me. I might be around.

Jason sent back a one-word

answer, and Patrick sat back with a sigh.
He’d been half-hard since seeing the
younger man a couple of hours ago and
had been hoping for some relief. At least
he was also clad in a tracksuit that was
roomy enough his erection wasn’t

immediately apparent.

He stayed at the bar with the other

men through two more pitchers of beer
and then excused himself, going upstairs
to his room. If he had any hope of not
losing his mind, he figured he’d better
take himself in hand. Patrick had just
lain on the bed and pushed his pants and
briefs to his knees when his phone rang.
Glancing at it, he saw Jason’s number.

“I have a half hour. Where are

you?”

“Room 3416.”
“Got it.”
A few minutes later there was a

rapping at the door. Patrick answered,
and Jason pushed past him.

“Didn’t want anyone to see me

coming in here.” He turned toward
Patrick. “I needed to see you.”

“Me too.” His dick was pounding

in his pants, but he ignored it, sinking to
his knees. “I needed this.” Pulling
Jason’s pants and boxers down, he
engulfed the already stiff cock he loved
so much, and Jason’s knees locked as a
guttural moan left his mouth.

“So good. Missed you.”
Patrick attempted to nod as he

continued to work his tongue around the
throbbing head of the younger man’s
dick. Yes, he’d definitely missed this,
but he’d also missed just seeing the guy.
They’d been able to talk a few times a
week, but Patrick had found he enjoyed

watching

movies

and

having

conversations with Jason. It was
dangerous ground to tread on, but that
wasn’t stopping him. Not anymore. He
was a fucking goner.

Soon Jason’s legs began to tremble,

and his hands clutched at Patrick’s hair,
rhythmically clenching and unclenching.
Patrick looked up, watching as the other
man’s head dropped back and his mouth
opened. Hot, salty cum landed on
Patrick’s tongue, and he concentrated to
take it in and swallow without choking.
Jason swore viciously as his orgasm
continued.

When he was finally done, Patrick

licked Jason clean and helped him dress
once more before leaning against the

wall behind him. “Better?”

“That mouth should be registered as

a weapon,” Jason muttered.

Patrick barked out a laugh as he

rose to his full height. “That good?”

Jason’s eyes opened, and he stared

at Patrick. “Yeah, that good.”

Patrick made a show of checking

his watch. “So what should we do with
the twenty-six minutes you have left?”

“Ass.” Jason grabbed him by the

back of the neck and pulled him in for a
kiss.

“Now there’s an idea.” Jason

grinned, and Patrick’s heart fluttered.
“So, um, do you wanna sit down or
something?”

“I gotta meet the guys soon, but I

can stick around for a bit.” After sitting
on the desk chair, the younger man bit
his lip for a minute before saying, “This
is gonna be really hard, isn’t it?”

Patrick didn’t have to ask what he

meant. “Probably.”

“There are going to be people all

over the place for the next couple of
weeks. It’s like we’ll be together but not
able to be alone. That’s going to suck.”

“Yeah.” Patrick wasn’t sure what

he could say to make Jason feel better.
There really wasn’t anything to say. He
was right. It was going to totally suck.

“So I guess we’d better make the

most of the time we have, huh?”

Fighting a grin, Patrick said, “What

do you have in mind?”

Jason jerked his head toward

Patrick. “You’re still hard. Want me to
take care of that?”

“I wouldn’t say no.”
“What do you want?”
Sighing, Patrick admitted, “There

isn’t enough time to do much. I don’t
want to rush and hurt you.”

“Then I guess I’d better figure

something else out.” Jason rose. “Take
off your pants and lie back on the bed for
me.”

Patrick did so, and Jason spread his

legs, pushing his own body between
them. Then he ran his hands up Patrick’s

thighs to his waist. He looked down.

“When was the last time you got

off?”

“Last night when I got here.”
“Were you thinking about me?”
“Always.”
“Good.” Scooting onto his stomach,

Jason took Patrick into his warm, wet
mouth and sucked before letting him go
again. “Keep it that way.”

Patrick’s head lolled against the

pillow beneath him. Much as he wanted
to watch Jason take him to the moon, the
sensations were bombarding him so
quickly he could hardly think, let alone
make his body do what he wanted it to.
In only a few short minutes, he was

clawing at the bedsheets and calling
Jason’s name as he emptied into the
younger man’s waiting mouth.

“So fucking good.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Jason

answered before making a frustrated
noise. “Shit, I gotta go.”

After a quick peck, he left. Patrick

continued to lie there, not even bothering
to pull his pants back up. He drifted into
a light sleep but was interrupted by the
ringing of his phone.

“Yeah?”
“Nice greeting. Just wanted to tell

you I really enjoyed, um, doing that to
you. Never in a million years did I think
I’d like it so much, but I do.”

“I’m good with that.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Patrick tossed the phone back on

the bed and sat up. His stomach
grumbled, and he decided to order room
service, knowing he’d get little alone
time once they arrived in Geneva. As he
sat and ate, he wondered what Jason and
the other guys were doing. He’d debated
sending a text but didn’t want to seem
too needy. Jason couldn’t be pushed, and
if Patrick tried, he had a feeling he’d
lose him. After all, Jason seemingly had
no idea how Patrick felt and had never
expressed similar feelings. Dropping a
bombshell like that now could be
disastrous.

Soon after finishing dinner, Patrick

went back to sleep and didn’t wake up
again until his cell phone alarm went off,
startling him.

He’d just gotten out of the shower

when his phone rang. It was Jason.

“Can I come see you?”
“Sure.” They had about an hour

before they were meeting in the lobby to
get on the caravan of buses to Logan
International Airport and their flight to
Geneva.

“Be right there.” He disconnected.
When Jason arrived, he pulled

Patrick straight to the bed. “I need to
fuck you. The guys went to a strip club
last night, and while all that pussy was
getting flashed in my face, all I could

think about was how much I loved your
equipment instead of theirs.”

“Lucky for you I hadn’t dressed,

then, huh?”

“Hands and knees. Gonna pound

you into the fucking mattress.”

Patrick did as he was told, his

breathing already speeding up at the
thought of Jason’s long, thick cock filling
him. He knew there was a good
possibility he’d be feeling twinges all
the way to Geneva but didn’t care.
Actually, the thought of that made him
hot, thinking he might be able to feel the
ghost of Jason’s dick in his ass. Jason
quickly prepared him, and then Patrick
felt the blunt, wide cockhead breaching
his ring of muscles. It burned, and

Patrick’s toes curled, but as soon as
Jason got inside and then pulled out
again before thrusting and nailing his
prostate, pleasure washed over him.

“Yeah, fuck me.”
“You want it hard? You want me to

use my dick to make you cum?”

“God, yes.”
“Don’t touch your cock. Let me do

all the work.”

Only able to groan in response,

Patrick laced his fingers together to at
least attempt to remove the temptation to
jack himself off as Jason surged inside
him again and again. Unintelligible
sounds were pouring from him as his
release began to build up inside, and

when he felt Jason straining to get
deeper before letting out a cry of
pleasure, he went over the edge himself.
They collapsed in a heap together,
Patrick’s spent dick trapped between
him and the now sticky bedsheets.

“How do you do that every time?”
Jason rolled off him and went to the

bathroom to dispose of the condom.
When he returned, he asked, “Do what?”

“Drive me so crazy.”
The younger man smiled. “I know

what you like.”

Patrick groaned. “That’s for sure.”
After Patrick had dressed, Jason

told him he needed to grab his bag and
would meet him and the other guys in the

lobby. But when Jason opened the door,
they heard the voice of the head coach,
Marty, from somewhere down the hall.
Jason went white as a sheet before
slamming the door again and leaning
against it, breathing hard.

“Fuck.”
Patrick slowly approached him.

“Shhh. It’s okay. He didn’t see us.”

“What if we’re trapped in here?”
His voice was edged with panic,

and Patrick tried to calm him. “We
won’t be trapped.” After briefly
touching his fingers to the younger man’s
face, he continued. “But we do need to
be careful. Maybe we should cool it
while we’re over there.”

God, please don’t agree.
Jason gave him a funny look. “If

that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want,” Patrick

insisted, wondering why Jason looked
so hurt. “But I don’t want to deal with
possibly being outed or losing my job in
the middle of the Olympics. Do you?”

“Of course not. I’ve got enough to

worry about.”

“Then we’ll cool it.”
His stomach turned at the thought of

Jason within his reach and yet still so far
away. He knew this was the smartest
thing to do, and that he wouldn’t know
how to handle the inevitable fallout from
going public, especially if anyone found

out he’d been intimate with Jason, but he
couldn’t help feeling like he was failing
both Jason and himself.

“Okay.” Jason’s gaze was focused

somewhere over Patrick’s shoulder, but
he seemed to snap out of it when Patrick
took his hand. “I gotta go.”

Pulling his hand away, Jason fled

Patrick’s room, and with a shake of his
head, Patrick went to retrieve his stuff.
He couldn’t decide who or what he was
angry at, but the emotion was welling up
inside him before he could stop it. Jason,
for agreeing so quickly? Himself, for
suggesting it? Or everyone else, for
making the subterfuge necessary? By the
time he met up with the team, a dull
headache was taking residence behind

his eyes. Jason wouldn’t even glance at
him. Patrick feared it was going to be
one hell of a long Olympics.

Chapter Eight

Once the team arrived in Geneva,

the thrilling vortex that was the
Olympics Games began in earnest. Jason
was so busy soaking it all in, he didn’t
have enough brainpower left to obsess
about Patrick, which was actually a nice
change, since that had been about all
he’d been doing since Christmas. He
was self-aware enough to know there
was way more to their relationship than
just sex but had promised himself he’d
wait until the Olympics were over to
decide what he wanted going forward.
Right now he needed to focus on playing
his best.

He was rooming with a teammate

and pretty much eating, sleeping, and
breathing

the

Olympics,

between

practices, wandering around the huge
athletes’ village with the other guys,
talking to the press, and all the other
cool stuff to do. Jason knew rudimentary
French and Russian from playing hockey
with a lot of international players. He
enjoyed meeting athletes from other
countries in the commissary and trying to
understand what they were saying.

The opening festivities were like

nothing Jason had ever seen. They took
place in a huge stadium constructed
specifically for the occasion, and there
were so many flashes going off all the
time, he felt like he’d be seeing spots for

weeks. None of that dampened his
enthusiasm, though. He’d convinced
several of his teammates to attend the
ceremonies, and as he walked along
with the rest of Team USA in the parade
of nations, he felt a swell of pride about
being an American. They weren’t
exactly the favorites to win gold here,
but they knew they had a competitive
enough hockey team to give the others a
run for their money. Jason was still a
little awed that he’d been chosen to
participate and was anxious to show
everyone what he could do.

The morning after the opening

ceremony, Jason was leaning on the
dasherboards of the rink they’d been
assigned, drinking a little Gatorade

mixed with water, when he heard his
coach call his name.

“Roney!”
“Yeah, Coach?”
“You’re leading the next drill.”
Jason stopped himself right before

he stuttered out really? in disbelief and
skated to the center of the rink. Feeling
all eyes on him, he pivoted on his skates
and saw Patrick staring at him from
about ten rows up, where he was sitting
alone with a bunch of papers on his lap.
Forcing his attention back to his task, he
explained the drill to the guys, and they
separated into three different lines based
on position.

As the boys went through the drill,

Jason called out compliments and
generally kept the tempo flowing
between stealing a few more glances
at…what…his boyfriend? They’d never
really talked about that again after the
incredibly

stilted

and

awkward

conversation before Christmas. He
definitely didn’t feel casual about
Patrick but wasn’t sure how to label his
feelings. Plus he couldn’t really read
Patrick, so he didn’t have much of a clue
about how the other man felt. With a sigh
and a shake of his head, Jason
concentrated on the drill.

He’d found out through creative

questioning that the staff was staying in
apartments only a few away buildings
away from Jason, and wondered if there

was any way he could sneak out and
hook up with Patrick. Sex was an
omnipresent part of the Olympics, it
seemed, and already more than once
he’d seen couples groping each other in
alcoves and behind stairs. His dick was
totally up for the idea, but Patrick had
said they needed to be cool. He didn’t
want to get rejected if he suggested
trying to hook up.

It wasn’t like his ego was all that

fragile—it was hard to be a young,
good-looking professional hockey player
and not have at least a healthy ego—but
no one liked to get turned down. Patrick
solved that dilemma a day later, though,
when he texted Jason to see if they could
meet in an area behind one of the

apartments none of the hockey players or
staff were occupying. Jason jumped at
the chance.

Luckily his roommate was on the

phone to his girl when Jason left,
hurrying toward the location Patrick had
specified. It was freaking cold in
Geneva, and despite all the time he spent
in the rink, he was already freezing his
nuts off. He wasn’t sure what Patrick
had planned, but if his balls climbed any
farther inside his body, it might not
matter. Jason needed to see Patrick,
though, even if it was only for a few
kisses. He couldn’t decide if that was
pathetic or not but preferred to think it
just meant he was horny.

Patrick was already there. “I found

out the buildings have these exhaust
grates behind them,” he said as he
gestured toward a large grate in the
ground. “And it’s actually pretty warm.
If we stay toward the far side of it, the
Dumpster should shield us pretty well.”
He gave Jason a wry smile, which Jason
returned.

“Okay.” Jason stepped closer. “So

what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t even know. I just needed to

see you.”

“We see each other every day.”
The older man laughed, but it was

without humor. “Yes, we do.” Pulling
Jason closer, he clamped their mouths
together, stealing in with a marauding
tongue before letting him go. “Maybe I

just needed to see your cock.”

“Little cold for that kind of thing,

don’t you think?”

“Not if I’m sucking it.”
Jason’s breath caught, and now

Patrick gave him a genuine smile.

“Thought you might react like that.”
“But the grate’s going to be hell on

your knees.”

“You let me worry about that.”
“Shit, I can’t—”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t let you do that. There’s no

way that isn’t gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Patrick palmed the back of his hat-

clad head. “I want to suck you off. And I
wasn’t really asking permission.”

“God.” A wave of heat that had

nothing to do with the grate they were
standing on stole over him.

“No, not God, baby, just a man. A

very horny man.”

Jason tried to think. “How about

this? I’ll sit, and you can lie down on
your belly. That shouldn’t be so hard,
right, because your weight will be
distributed?” Due to the grate being so
warm, no snow or ice had gathered on it,
so Patrick wouldn’t get soaked either.

“No, but it’ll be harder to move if

someone comes along.”

“Then make it snappy.”
They hurried to get into position,

and Jason sighed in relief when Patrick

lowered the zipper of his too-restrictive
jeans. Reaching in, Patrick pulled his
cock out, and Jason yelped at the feel of
his cold hand.

“Sorry. Necessary.”
Before Jason could say anything

else, his dick was welcomed into
Patrick’s warmth and his eyes fluttered
shut. He didn’t know where or when
Patrick had acquired his oral skills—
didn’t want to know—but holy shit could
that man suck cock. Every time he put his
mouth on Jason’s dick, it was a struggle
not to come within seconds.

“Ahh yeah. Suck me,” he begged

without shame, and Patrick’s lips
tightened further. “Feels so good.” He
wished Patrick would roll his balls

around like he sometimes did, but
considering his pants were only open
enough to get his dick out, there was no
way to maneuver that into happening.
Plus, as Jason had just felt, Patrick’s
hands were like ice. Instead he
concentrated on the feel of Patrick’s
tongue dragging up and down his shaft.
His cock twitched and filled the older
man’s mouth with his spunk as Jason
held on to Patrick for dear life.

When Patrick was done, he sat up.

“Okay in there?” he asked, rapping on
Jason’s head with a silly grin.

“No. Done.”
Patrick peered at him. “Seriously.

You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I have grate

marks on my ass, though.”

“Want me to kiss them and make

them better?”

Jason groaned as his spent cock

twitched. “Probably not a good plan. I
can just see your tongue getting stuck to
my ass cheeks like that kid’s tongue in A
Christmas Story. No, thanks.”

“I love that movie.”
“Me too.” Jason righted his

clothing and then briefly rolled onto his
knees before standing once more. Patrick
also rose. “Even with the grate, it’s still
frigid out here. Glad we’re playing in a
temperature-controlled rink. This wind
is a killer.” He eyed Patrick. “Do you
want me to blow you?”

“No, that’s okay. We should be

getting back inside. If you catch
pneumonia, I’d feel pretty guilty.”

“You sure? I feel like an asshole.”
“I’ll take care of it. Thinking of

you, of course.”

“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure. Now go.”
He slapped Jason on the ass, which

Jason barely felt between the layers of
clothing and the fact that his butt was
numb from the cold. Reaching over,
Jason gave Patrick a quick, hard kiss.
“See you tomorrow.”

“First game.”
“Yeah. I’m trying not to be too

nervous.”

“You’ll do great. Remember—

there’s a reason we picked you.”

Jason crammed his hands in his

pockets. “Thanks.” Turning, he left the
relative comfort of the grate and
instantly felt a bone-jarring gust of wind.
With purpose he put his head down and
strode back to his dorm.

* * * *

The first game came and went in a

blur. Jason saw significant ice time, but
the whole thing passed as if in a dream.
When the final buzzer sounded, Team
USA had defeated Switzerland by a
score of 5–2. While they were dressing,
Marty came in and told them Canada and
Sweden had both won their games.

Russia and Finland, the other two teams
to watch out for, would play their first
games the next day.

He accompanied his teammates to

the commissary and silently ate as the
rest of the guys did a postmortem on the
game. The coaching staff had warned
them not to talk too much about the
games out in the open where an opponent
could hear them and use a comment as
mental fodder to beat them in a game, so
the men weren’t commenting much on the
other team. Instead they concentrated on
how they could improve their own game.
Jason tuned them out as he finished and
then left to go back to his room, where
he fell onto his small bed fully clothed
and was asleep before he could get up

the energy to undress.

* * * *

The next morning Jason was eating

a huge breakfast, as he often did the
morning after a game as long as he
wasn’t playing another one, when he
noticed Patrick going through one of the
lines. His roommate, who Jason had
gone to breakfast with, was engaged in
hitting on a German figure skater he’d
introduced to Jason and whose name
Jason had instantly forgotten, and didn’t
seem to notice as Jason’s gaze tracked
Patrick through the room. Patrick sat
down by himself, and before Jason could
even reach for his phone to text him to
come eat with them, a tall man wearing

the colors of Spain sat down opposite
Patrick. Jason’s blood boiled.

What the fuck?
He was confused both by the

strength of his reaction and by what
might be going on. Did the man know
Patrick was gay? How could he tell?
Jason didn’t have a great gaydar and
hadn’t known Patrick was gay until the
man had come out and told him, so he
guessed maybe someone else could
discern Patrick’s sexuality more easily.
That thought did nothing to put Jason’s
mind at ease about people figuring him
out.

Patrick smiled at the other man but

didn’t seem overly effusive, and Jason
watched as the Spaniard touched Patrick

enough to get his intent across. Patrick
kept a smile on his face, but Jason knew
him well enough to know it wasn’t a
genuine expression, and for that, he felt a
little bit of childish glee. The man,
though, apparently would not take no for
an answer and continued to talk to
Patrick.

Jason looked down at his plate

when he heard a scraping noise and
found it picked clean. When had he eaten
all that food? Returning to the tableau in
front of him, Jason observed the two
men. His blood was running hot in his
veins, and though he knew it was from
jealousy, the emotion was completely
foreign and certainly not welcome. What
did he have to be jealous of? Sure,

they’d said they were exclusively dating,
but that didn’t mean he had a claim on
Patrick.

Screw that. Yes, it does.
Grabbing his tray, Jason made his

way right past Patrick’s table. As he
came upon him, Patrick looked up and
his eyes widened, though whether in
surprise or guilt, Jason couldn’t be sure.
“Morning, Mr. Parker.” He put emphasis
on the second part of his greeting, and
Patrick obviously didn’t miss the tone of
Jason’s voice, paling as he stared up at
him.

Not willing to show the man how

much seeing him with someone else had
affected him, Jason stalked away. He
heard Patrick call him but continued on,

dumping his tray in the dish area and
leaving the commissary. Leaning against
the side of the building, Jason put his
hand to his stomach, not sure if he’d
puke up his breakfast because of what
had just happened or because he’d eaten
too much in his distracted state. It didn’t
matter.

He was able to stumble back to his

room and lay down on the bed, his phone
turned off. After a short, restless nap, he
got up and wandered around, finally
coming to a game room that several of
the buildings shared, with video games,
pool tables, and dartboards. He was
smacking the shit out of the paddles of a
pinball game when he felt someone
come up behind him.

“Nothing happened.”
Jason punched down on the buttons

on the sides of the game so hard the
machine rattled. “No idea what you’re
talking about.”

Patrick moved into his line of

vision. “Bullshit. I recognize jealousy
when I see it.”

“I wasn’t jealous.” Jason glanced

up to see if Patrick was going to take
him at his word. The smirk on Patrick’s
face told him all he needed to know, and
he returned his attention to the game.

“I’ve been trying to call you, but

your phone’s off.”

“Ran out of battery.”
“Bullshit again. You charge your

phone overnight, and I know you always
have a charge. You said you hate feeling
helpless when the phone’s battery
depletes.”

Jason cursed how well Patrick

seemed to know him, but said nothing.

“Not gonna talk? Fine. Let me just

say this.” He leaned over and, with his
mouth only scant inches from Jason’s
ear, said, “Nothing happened. He
wanted something to, but it didn’t. Did
you watch us for a while? I bet you did.”

Patrick ran his pinky over Jason’s

on the button of the pinball game, and
Jason’s hand twitched, sending the ball
careening.

“Did it drive you crazy? If it did,

I’m sorry. But then again, I’m not.” He

took a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel
like this old guy you’re patronizing or
something.”

Jason abandoned any attempt at

continuing his game and faced Patrick.
Was that what he thought, that Jason was
just using him until something—someone
—better came along?

“Patronizing you? Are you fucking

kidding me?” He lowered his voice. “If I
wanted

you

any

more,

I’d

be

permanently attached to your dick. It’s
actually kind of sad how much I want
you. I think about you all the fucking
time, okay?”

“Okay. I didn’t mean to make you

mad. But stuff like that thing in the
commissary

is

going

to

happen

occasionally, and probably more often
than that to you, since you’re young and
smokin’ hot, and if we overreact every
time, it won’t do either of us any good.”

“I know that,” Jason mumbled.
“Then trust me. There is no one

else I want to fuck. No one whose dick
I’d suck ten times a day if I could.”

Jason groaned at that image.
“Yeah, you heard me right. I’m

addicted to your cock. I’m addicted to
you. I’d want to be with you even if we
couldn’t have sex. And that isn’t going to
change just because some dude chats me
up in the commissary. Got it?”

“Got it.”
Patrick nodded. “Good. I’m glad

we had this talk. See you at practice.”

He walked away whistling, and

Jason let out a breath, realizing he’d just
shown his cards to Patrick. All of them.
But would it come back to haunt him or
be the best thing that ever happened to
him? Jason truly had no idea. He was in
so far over his head it wasn’t even
funny.

* * * *

The game against Russia the next

day was one of the worst of Jason’s life.
At the faceoff after a penalty was called
against Team USA, Jason was lined up
on the red line even though he was a
defenseman, as was usual in shorthanded
situations. The opposing centerman,

Vladimov,

and

Jason’s

teammate,

Stephen Sacco, squared off in the middle
of the faceoff circle. Jason was
concentrating on the game, already
thinking about how to box out the speedy
Russian winger he was currently trading
slashes with, when his world stopped.

“Faggot.”
He straightened, staring at the two

men in front of him.

Did that dude just call Stephen a

fag?

Before

he

knew

what

was

happening, Stephen coldcocked the man.
As soon as Vladimov dropped like a
stone, all hell broke loose on the ice.
After all, it was hard to tell who’d heard
Vladimov’s slur, and his teammates

were just defending what must’ve
looked like an unprovoked attack. Jason,
still reeling, was suddenly thrust into the
middle of a melee.

He was big enough to take care of

himself, despite not being a fighter, but
the other guy got a couple of good
punches in before Jason got up to speed.
All Jason could see was the word
faggot flashing in front of his eyes like a
beacon. Finally the refs got the game
under control and turned to Stephen, who
was madder than Jason had ever seen
him, which was saying something,
considering how competitive the guy
was. Huh.

Jason skated over, unable to stay

away. He needed to know what was

going to happen now.

“What the fuck happened out

there?” The head referee asked.

“He called me a faggot,” Stephen

answered, gesturing to the Russian
player, who was being attended to by a
trainer and was still on the ice.

“That’s a pretty serious allegation,

son.”

Jason’s head almost exploded as a

haze of rage formed in his vision. “I
heard it. He did call him…that.”

Stephen glanced over at him, and

Jason felt his face go red. He hoped his
teammate would put his reaction off to
the scrum and not to Jason’s visceral
reaction to hearing the word tossed

around.

The officials regarded him. “Of

course you would stick up for your own
teammate.”

“I’m not sticking up for him. The

guy said it.”

And if you let him off for it, I’m

going to kill somebody.

“Well, we still have to do

something, you understand. We can’t
have players starting fights for no
reason.”

Jason couldn’t believe it. “No

reason? Are you shitting me? Being
called a faggot isn’t a good reason to
punch someone?”

Stephen looked at him. “Calm

down, Roney. I’ll take whatever they
give me. There’s no place for shit like
that in the game.” He looked pointedly at
the refs.

After a short conference the head

ref said, “Five and a game.”

“Fine by me.”
Stephen skated over to the bench

and briefly conferred with Marty before
heading off the ice. Jason watched him
go, trying in vain to wrap his head
around what had happened. Never mind
Stephen was the best player in the world
right now, which opened him up to trash-
talking by the opponents, but it was
entirely different to give him the typical
trash talk heard on the ice and to throw a
gay slur out there. What Vladimov had

said floored him. With the recent trouble
players had gotten in after using racial
slurs, those types of comments had pretty
much left the game in the NHL. Well, at
least public comments.

Shaking his head, Jason skated back

to the bench himself after Marty called a
time-out. When he got over there, Marty
looked straight at him.

“What happened, Roney?”
Jason forced himself to hold his

coach’s gaze, tamping down on the fury
still coursing through his veins. Banging
his stick on the boards, Jason said,
“Vladimov called him a faggot.”

“That’s what Stevie said, but I

wanted to hear it from somebody else.”
Marty turned toward the Russian bench,

his lip curled. “It worked. I can’t say as
I blame Stevie for reacting like he did.
That’s bullshit. But now we’re down our
best player, and two men down for the
time being with Stevie’s penalty.” He
glowered

and

reached

for

his

whiteboard. “Here’s what I want you to
do.”

Marty drew up a play for the

faceoff, and Jason nodded, wishing he
could sit on the bench and gather
himself. But how weird would it look if
he asked Marty to sit?

He got through the rest of the game

but made errors he hadn’t committed
since juniors. Russia beat them 3–2, and
Jason left the ice, his emotions roiling.
As soon as he could, he got in the

shower and scrubbed hard, as if he
could wipe Vladimov’s words away.
When he got out, he heard two guys
talking. “Did you guys just say they’re
having a press conference?”

One of the players nodded. “Yeah. I

guess the press wants to know what
caused the scrum. Marty said he’s
reporting Vladimov too. This could get
ugly. That dude’s an asshole. I can’t
believe he said that. No wonder he can’t
find a team in the NHL to take him on.”

Jason wasn’t sure of the stances

these guys held toward gays, and he
wasn’t about to fly a rainbow flag over
his locker, so he said nothing. Vladimov
was an asshole, but not just for what
he’d done today. Who knew why those

guys didn’t like him?

He dressed and found himself being

drawn toward the press room, arriving
just as Stephen and Marty sat down on
the dais. Immediately the questioning
began, like some perverted form of the
Spanish Inquisition.

“We’ve heard Vladimov used a gay

slur, and that’s what started the fight.”

Marty

leaned

toward

the

microphone. “We really can’t get into
specifics.”

The man continued, talking over the

voices of the other press. “Fair enough.
So let me ask you this, Stephen. Are you
gay?”

Stephen’s incredulous expression

warmed Jason’s heart, and he began to
wonder if the other man was. He’d never
heard scuttlebutt about it, but then again,
he’d never heard anything about himself
either.

“What kind of question is that?

What would it matter if I was?” His
voice rose as he continued to speak, and
the cameras flashed all around him.
“Would I not have netted almost a
hundred points last year? Would I not be
the captain of my team? Or of this team?
Would my team not have won the
Stanley Cup two years ago?”

The

press

guy

was

clearly

flustered. “Well, I—”

Stephen cut him off. “I know some

gay people. I won’t out them here, but I

consider them friends, and I have
absolutely no problem with who they
love. It’s none of my business or anyone
else’s. If you can’t be respectful, I’m
finished with this conversation.”

Stephen rose and walked away as

the press exploded, asking each other
what they thought of the events and
wondering if the reporter had hit a nerve
with Stephen. They speculated that
Stephen himself was hiding something,
and that was why he hadn’t directly
answered the question. Jason watched
the whole thing unfold like a spectacular
car wreck but wasn’t sure what to do
about it.

On the one hand he wanted to thank

Stephen for what he’d said, but he

wasn’t sure if the man’s words had been
purely a PR move. Since Stephen had
been a star from about fourteen, he was
used to dealing with the press, and it
was hard to tell when he was speaking
the truth and when he was simply saying
what was expected. He seemed like a
decent guy, but Jason didn’t feel like he
could take a chance in possibly outing
himself.

In the end, Jason said and did

nothing and felt his gut tearing itself
apart. As he walked back to his dorm
with a few other guys, his phone chimed.
He pulled it out. Seeing it was Patrick,
he waited until he’d separated from the
other guys at the door to his room before
reading the message.

I heard what happened. You okay?
Jason snorted.
Dandy.
A few minutes later another text

came in.

Vlad directed the comment at

Stevie, not you, right?

Sighing, Jason responded.
No, not at me, but it might as well

have been.

He threw the phone on the bed and

peeled off his outerwear. By the time he
was down to his Team USA tracksuit,
the phone had buzzed again.

You’re upset. Want to talk about

it?

Jason bit his lip. He didn’t want to

talk about it. What he wanted was for
Patrick to hold him, to tell him he wasn’t
a freak.

Not really. Gonna hit the hay.
Almost immediately came Patrick’s

reply.

You sure? You know I’m always

here for you, and that I understand.
Sleep well, babe, and try not to let this
bother you.

With an eye roll Jason plugged his

phone into the charger. “Not likely.”

Chapter Nine

The coaches called the team

together during a break in their short
workout the next day. Jason waited,
along with his teammates, to hear what
Marty would say. The man didn’t mince
words.

“Look,

you

all

know

what

happened during the game last night.
Though we’re not happy Stevie got
thrown out of the game, we want it clear
we

don’t

condone

any

sort

of

homophobic comments, either in the
locker room or during a game, or
anywhere else, for that matter. Same
obviously goes for racial slurs and the

like, but we particularly wanted to
address gay slurs after last night.”

Jason

knew

several

of

his

teammates had worked with the You Can
Play project, an organization whose aim
was to show that athletes, both
professional and amateur, supported
their LGBT teammates. As his gaze
traveled through the guys, most of them
shrugged, remarking they didn’t care if a
teammate was gay and that Vladimov
was out of line. Jason’s heart felt like it
would beat right out of his chest, and he
caught Patrick’s eye. Despite what his
teammates were saying, though, Jason
wasn’t willing to out himself, and since
Patrick too stayed silent, apparently he
wasn’t either.

Practice continued, but Jason kept

coming back to the reactions of his
teammates to Marty’s pronouncement.
Would it really not be that big a deal if
he came out? Could he even imagine
living in a world where he didn’t have
to keep such a big part of himself
hidden? By the time he hit the showers,
his mind was a tangled mess.

It only got worse as word spread

throughout the Olympic village. The
Russian Olympic committee, feeling
intense pressure from all angles, sent
Vladimov home. But still the press
wouldn’t

leave

Stephen

alone,

continuing to speculate about his
sexuality and why he had reacted so
violently.

Jason’s

own

emotions

were

blowing hot and cold, and finally he
called Patrick. He needed to talk to
someone who knew what he was going
through and how he felt. They met in the
same place, and after they sat and
exchanged a brief kiss, Patrick spoke.

“So what’s up? You doing okay?”
Picking at an imaginary thread on

his parka, Jason let out a breath. “Yes.
No.”

Patrick pulled Jason’s hand away

from his coat and enclosed it between
both of his. “Talk to me, man. Tell me
what’s going on.”

“With all this talk about the Vlad

thing, I’m wondering if things will ever
change for us.”

“You mean you wonder if you

could come out as gay?”

“Yeah.”
“I don’t know the answer to that

question. I would like to think you could,
one day. But even with recent events,
I’m not sure that day is today.”

“I know, and that’s what’s got me

tied in knots. It’s like with the reaction
of the players when Marty was talking to
us, when they all said they’d be cool
with a gay teammate. I can’t help feeling
like they gave us something and then
took it away again, you know?”

The older man smiled sadly. “I do.”
Turning, Jason pulled Patrick’s

arms around him and put his head in

Patrick’s lap, staring up at the gray sky.
“This sucks.”

“The

always

succinct

Jason

Monroe strikes again,” Patrick teased,
leaning down to plant a quick kiss on his
lips.

“Ha-ha. I can’t think of a better way

to express it. Can you?”

Patrick shrugged. “Not really.”

Pulling his arms tighter around Jason, he
continued. “But I like this. Sitting here
with you in my arms, quiet.”

“Me too. I just wish—”
“I know, kid, I know.”
“God, I wish you could fuck me. I

feel like I need it.”

“Well, there is something we can

do that we couldn’t do last time.”

“What’s that?”
Patrick produced hand warmers

from his pocket. “If we let these bad
boys warm up for a bit, we could give
each other handjobs.”

“Sweet!” Jason responded, pushing

one into the glove covering his right
hand.

“I thought you’d like the idea.”
“I do. But I want to stay here like

this for a little while first.”

“Well, like I said, they need some

time to get our hands warm. Don’t want
you yelping like you did last time. That’s
tough on a guy’s ego.”

“Your hands were freezing.”

“And they won’t be this time.”
“Could you see us in one of the

lounges, doing this?” Patrick chuckled,
and Jason elbowed him. “I don’t mean
jerking each other off. I meant—”

“I know what you meant. I was just

fucking with you. And yeah, I could see
it. I’d love it.”

“Even though…”
“What?”
Why am I bringing this up?
“Even though you’re an advisor and

I’m a player?” Jason craned his neck,
studying the older man’s expression.

“That’s certainly not ideal and

almost definitely straddling the line of
ethical, but I resigned myself to that a

long time ago.”

“So it doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does. I think about it

every day. It bothers the hell out of me,
but not enough to end this.”

Turning back around and looking

out over the snowy landscape, Jason
whispered, “Good.”

Patrick leaned down and whispered

back, “You’re not getting away from me
that easy.”

Warmth suffused him, and Jason

smiled. “Think our hands are warm
enough yet?”

With a chuckle, Patrick said,

“Probably. We need to get back
anyway.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason turned so

they were facing each other once more.
Urging Patrick onto his side, Jason then
opened his jeans before unzipping his
own. When his hand snaked into
Patrick’s underwear and closed around
his cock, he let out a groan. “You’re so
hot. I don’t even need the hand warmer.”

“I do.”
They began to jerk each other off,

using long, hard pulls. Patrick dragged
Jason’s face to his and kissed him. Their
coupling was wild, almost angry, and
Jason knew they were probably both
thinking about recent events.

He

certainly was. At this point he’d give
just about anything to not have to skulk
around and do this outside next to a

Dumpster. No matter how good it felt to
have Patrick’s hand on him, Jason
couldn’t help but feel a little dirty, and
he hated that feeling.

Despite the cold, it didn’t take long

for either of them to come, and Jason
was glad he’d thought to tuck a wad of
tissues in his pocket. They separated,
both breathing hard, and cleaned
themselves up. Patrick sat up and ran his
fingertip down the side of Jason’s face.

“This is more than just two guys

getting off.”

“I know.”
“And you’re good with that?”
“Yeah. I’ve never felt like this

before.” Jason hoped he wasn’t the only

one putting his heart on the line.
Patrick’s demeanor and words seemed
to hint at some heavy feelings, but Jason
didn’t want to assume.

“When we get back home, we need

to talk about where this is going.”

“Fair enough. Kiss me?”
“Anytime, baby, anytime.”
I wish.

* * * *

Two days later, they were on their

way back to the Olympic village after
their third game. The mood was jubilant,
as the win that night had secured them a
spot in the medal round. The guys were
singing “Another One Bites the Dust,”
and though Jason wasn’t participating,

he laughed as he watched his teammates
goof off. Good thing they didn’t serve
alcohol

in

the

athletes’

village;

otherwise he was pretty sure the guys
would’ve been tempted to imbibe.

One of the goaltenders, Rob,

bumped against him as he swayed from
side to side in time with the singing, and
Jason shoved him back into his own
seat. “Get off me, man.”

Rob grinned. “That’s not what she

said.”

Jason was about to issue a scathing

retort when everything went to hell. The
bus tipped, careening wildly on the icy
road after being hit by something. People
and equipment flew everywhere, and
Jason clutched the headrest in front of

him, trying to stay in his seat. His efforts
were wasted when the bus lost the battle
with gravity and landed on its side,
continuing to slide on the road before
finally coming to a stop. Jason had been
thrown across the aisle and now lay in a
tangled heap of limbs.

His head ached, and in the back of

his mind, he knew he might have a
concussion. People were screaming,
some in pain and some trying to help,
and he knew without looking he’d been
lucky compared to others. Feeling inside
his jacket, he was able to pull out his
cell phone. He stared at it for a minute,
wondering how to call for help. Did they
use 911 here?

He was pulled out of his thoughts

by Rob grabbing his leg. “Can you
move?”

“Yeah.”
“We need to get the fuck out of

here. This thing could blow up.”

“I was gonna call for help,” Jason

explained, holding up the phone. “But I
have no idea how.”

“Doesn’t matter. Are you okay

enough that you can hoist me through the
window up there?”

He pointed to what was now the

top of the bus, and where Jason and Rob
had originally been seated.

“Then we can start pulling people

out.” Rob looked around. “Looks like
there are some guys well enough to

help.”

Jason glanced around and saw

some of the guys assisting others, while
some players and staff weren’t moving
as much. Then his heart stopped. He
didn’t see Patrick. The crash had
happened less than a minute ago, and
he’d been so focused on that he hadn’t
thought to look for the man, but now that
he had…

God, where is he?
It was difficult to see through the

smoky wreckage. Every cell in his body
was pushing him toward the front of the
bus where the staff had been seated. The
front portion was what had been hit
originally, and Jason coughed as he
struggled forward, trying not to step on

anyone. He knew he should be helping
evacuate, but until he knew Patrick was
okay, he only had one thought in his
head.

Please let him be alive. Let him

live.

The twisted metal remains of the

bus were all around him. He spied
Marty, conscious but bleeding. “Where’s
Patrick?”

And what is that roaring noise?
Marty yelled back, “Who?”
“Patrick. Where is he?”
“Don’t know.”
The roaring noise got closer, and

Jason recognized it as sirens. Help.

Continuing to push through the

wreckage slowly and carefully while
still keeping his eyes peeled for his
lover, Jason’s gaze snagged on a
gruesome sight. The bus driver was
slumped over what was left of the
steering well, his dead eyes staring at
nothing and blood running out of his ear.
Jason retched but managed to keep from
vomiting. He had to find Patrick.

There was no way to tell where in

the

wreckage

Patrick

would

be.

Everyone had been tossed around like
lottery balls in a hopper, but Jason knew
he had been on the opposite side of the
bus from Jason, which would’ve put him
perilously close to the point of impact.

I love him. Don’t take him from

me.

Through the noise he heard moaning

and

began

to

search

frantically,

convinced it was Patrick. Throwing the
remains of a window toward the front of
the bus and the already dead driver and
cutting himself in the process, Jason
ignored the blood now flowing from his
hand. Blinking away the irritation from
the smoke, he called, “Patrick?” He
heard the moaning again. “Patrick!” he
yelled.

“Help me…”
“Oh God, you’re here. Where are

you?” Jason pulled another piece of
who-knew-what away, searching for the
source of the moaning. Finally he saw an
arm. The arm was wearing Patrick’s
watch, and a surge of adrenaline rushed

through Jason. Tracing it with his hand,
he found a shoulder and gently squeezed.
“I’m gonna get you out.”

A bunch of stuff was piled on top of

where Patrick lay, but the man was in
there somewhere, and he was alive. That
was all he was focused on.

“Hurts. Legs trapped.”
“I know, baby. I’m coming.” Jason

heaved what looked like a seat aside,
and Patrick’s pale face appeared. By
this time emergency workers were
shouting instructions and helping people
out of the wreckage, and one of them
grabbed his shoulder from above.

“Sir, we need you to move away.”
“Not without him.” Jason pointed to

Patrick.

“We’ll get him out, but you need to

move and let us do our jobs.”

Panic seized Jason. “I can’t leave

him.”

“Go,” he heard Patrick say.
Jason

reached

down,

gently

caressing the side of Patrick’s face. “I
love you.”

“Love

you.”

Patrick’s

eyes

betrayed the pain he was in, but Jason
saw a lot of other emotions as well, and
his heart ached.

He knew the best thing he could do

for Patrick was get the hell out of the
way, so he let the emergency workers
help him through a broken window and

then down off what was now the roof of
the bus. When he reached the ground, he
noticed a ton of emergency vehicles and
hoped it wasn’t as bad as it had looked
to him, that most of the people would
make it out.

Several teammates stood huddled

together as paramedics checked them
over, and he was led over to the group.
He let the medical technicians look at
him, even as his gaze remained glued on
the wreckage as firefighters cut a large
hole in the side of the bus to facilitate
the rescue efforts. The paramedic told
him he’d need stitches, and he nodded,
not concerned with his own injury.

“Get him out… God, please get him

out.” A tear trickled down his face, but

he paid it no heed, keeping his gaze
firmly on the twisted wreckage.

Rob put his arm around Jason.

“They’re doing everything they can. Who
are you worried about?”

“Patrick.”
“You guys know each other that

well? I mean, like, are you guys…” Rob
bit his lip.

“I’m in love with him.” Jason

realized he was outing both of them, but
he just didn’t care anymore.

“Oh,” Rob said. “Ohhh.”
“Yeah, I’m gay. Surprise.” Jason

tried to smile, but as time continued to
tick away with no sign of Patrick, his
blood pressure spiked. “He has to be

okay.”

“I’m sure he will be.” Rob eyed

Jason’s hand. “That looks bad, dude.”

Jason looked down. “It doesn’t

matter.”

The paramedic reappeared and

wrapped his hand. “That will need
stitches,” he repeated in broken English,
and Jason nodded wordlessly.

Rob’s hold on him tightened, and he

realized tears were coursing down his
face.

“Hey, calm down, bud. You’re not

doing him any good if you freak out.”

“Why haven’t they gotten him out?”
“I don’t know, but we need to let

them do their work.”

Jason

looked

around

at

the

multitude of lights from the rescue
vehicles as they played off the buildings
around them. He’d never seen anything
like this. A crowd, including members of
the press who seemed to turn up like a
horde of bad pennies, had already
gathered, and the police were trying to
keep them back.

A stretcher appeared out of the hole

cut by the firefighters, and Jason rushed
forward. As the whole of it was raised,
Jason saw it was Patrick. “Oh thank
God.” He looked at the paramedics
handling the stretcher. “I need to go with
him.”

The men appeared to be too harried

to disagree, and Jason hurried along

behind the stretcher. Patrick’s eyes were
glassy, but he must have recognized
Jason.

“Baby. You’re here.”
“Where else would I be? Now lie

quietly and let these guys do their jobs.”

The

paramedics

reached

an

ambulance and began to load Patrick
into it. Jason scrambled inside and then
looked back at the wreckage. Two
sheets were on the ground, covering
what were obviously two bodies. How
many more were there? His stomach
roiled, but he forced it down, knowing
he needed to be strong right now.

With the ambulance speeding to the

hospital and the paramedic busy putting
in an IV line, Jason felt helpless and

useless. He could tell Patrick had
sustained serious injuries, but was afraid
to ask the paramedic about them in front
of Patrick, so he bit his lip and held
Patrick’s hand.

Patrick squeezed, and Jason raised

his head to look into his eyes. Smoothing
the hair away from Patrick’s too-pale
face, he tried to smile. “You’re going to
be okay.” An oxygen mask covered
Patrick’s mouth and nose, but Jason
knew he was trying to say something.
“Don’t talk, honey.”

A little bit later, Patrick’s eyes

drifted closed, and Jason turned to look
at the paramedic, who must’ve sensed
Jason’s alarm.

“He sleeps from drug.” The man

indicated the IV line, and Jason nodded.

The ambulance stopped, and the

doors opened a few seconds later. Jason
saw a man wearing full scrubs standing
next to two other men and a woman.
Patrick

was

hustled

out

of

the

ambulance, and the man in scrubs took
over, barking orders in French. In the
time it took for Jason to allow the
paramedic to exit the ambulance, the
gurney was already fifteen feet ahead
and almost through the doors of the
hospital. Jason climbed out as quickly as
possible, given how sore he was and his
damaged hand, and followed, but
everyone had disappeared behind a set
of double doors. They were gone.

Jason went directly to the desk right

beside the doors. “My friend…mon
ami…il est…” He struggled for the
words in French.

Luckily the woman seemed to

understand him. “He is there?” She
pointed to the doors, and Jason nodded.
“Please sit. Doctors will help him.”

Head down, Jason trudged to the

nearest chair and fell into it. Putting his
head in his good hand, he began to pray.
He wasn’t a real religious guy, but the
occasion seemed to warrant it.

A short time later he felt a gentle

hand on his shoulder. It was Marty, who
was holding a bandage to his head. “You
okay, kid?”

Jason let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah.”

“Rob told me you were pretty

upset, and that you’d gone with Patrick.”

Jason wasn’t sure how he was

supposed to respond, so he remained
silent.

“Remember what we said, Roney.

We don’t discriminate, and we won’t
allow anyone else to either.”

The woman at the desk called out to

Marty, and with a faint smile at Jason, he
said, “I need to get this sewn up. It’s not
deep, but it’s bleeding like a son of a
bitch.”

“Go ahead.”
“When I’m done, I’ll come back.”

Marty paused. “Other people will no
doubt be here too. What you tell them is

your business.”

“Thanks.” Jason’s gaze darted to

the double doors. “I just want him to be
all right.”

“Me too, kid, me too.”
Marty walked away and was led

down a hallway. Jason fought back tears.

He has to be okay.
Several moments later Marty was

back, and Jason was taken to have his
hand stitched up. He was antsy the entire
time, his less sore leg bouncing as the
man worked. As soon as it was done and
covered with a clean bandage, Jason
bolted for the waiting room again.

“Any word?”
Marty shook his head. A couple

other players and team personnel had
straggled into the hospital.

“I, um, saw the driver. Everybody

else okay?” He knew damn well they
weren’t—he’d seen two bodies covered
by sheets but had no idea who was
actually underneath them.

“Carl didn’t make it,” Marty

responded, his face tight with emotion.
“A couple of others are in surgery, some
in better shape than others. I wouldn’t let
them take me away from the scene until
they’d gotten everybody out.”

Jason settled down in a chair next

to the head coach. “All we can do now
is hope and pray, I guess.” It sounded
so…inadequate.

Several

teammates

and

staff

swarmed around them at different times,
many seemingly knowing the source of
Jason’s distress, but none showing any
outward signs of homophobia. To the
contrary, actually. Guys would come by
and squeeze his shoulder or sit next to
him and pull him into a one-armed hug. It
took every ounce of strength Jason had
not to break down like a blubbering
baby.

What seemed like hours later, the

doctor came out and addressed Marty.
Fortunately, in addition to his native
language, he spoke excellent English.

“Monsieur Parker will recover. His

leg was badly broken, and he had
several deep cuts around it, but that was
the most serious injury. He also has a

cracked rib and numerous cuts and
abrasions.”

As the man spoke, it was hard to sit

there and not ask questions, but Jason
knew Marty should be taking the lead in
this, so he forced himself to stay silent.
The doctor spoke about giving them
further updates as other people came out
of surgery, and then Jason couldn’t
remain quiet anymore.

“Can I see Patrick, er, Monsieur

Parker?”

“Yes, for a short time. Follow me.”
Jason glanced at Marty, who made

a shooing motion, and Jason hurried
after the doctor. The doctor stopped in
front of the double doors leading to the
patient area.

“Please, only stay for a few

moments. He needs sleep.”

“I promise.” The doctor walked

down the hall with him and indicated a
door. With a deep breath, Jason opened
it. Patrick looked deathly pale against
the stark white of the pillow, and Jason
swallowed thickly.

“Hey.”
Patrick briefly held up a hand.

“Hi.”

Jason approached the bed and took

the hand in his. “Everyone’s out in the
waiting room. We’ve been worried
about you.”

“Cat’s out of the bag.”
“Yeah,” Jason admitted, “but I

don’t give a shit. And really, the guys
have been cool about it.”

“For now.”
“Don’t worry about that. You need

your rest. I can only stay for a minute,
but I needed to see you.” Reaching down
with his free hand, he stroked the side of
Patrick’s face. “I was so scared.”

“Shhh…”
A tear fell, and Jason swiped his

forearm over his face. “I don’t know
what I would’ve done.” His voice broke
on the last word. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”
“I feel like I can’t say it enough.”
“I know. Me too.”
“We’re gonna figure out a way to

be together. I don’t care who knows
about us. I’m done hiding how I feel.”

“You say that now.”
“I mean it,” Jason insisted. “I’m

done. Let them call me whatever they
want. I’m going to be with you. It’s not
like I’m going to fuck your ass in a
luxury box or something, so what
business is it of anybody’s?”

Patrick gave him a tired smile.

“Nice visual.”

Jason grinned. A huge weight was

slowly lifting, and he wanted to tell
everyone that he loved this wonderful
man. But he knew he’d have to tread
carefully. And was Patrick ready to
come out? He guessed it didn’t matter
now.

“You need your rest. I don’t know

how long they’ll let us stay. It’s already
after midnight. Of course, our Olympics
are over. There’s no way we can play
after stuff like this.” He vaguely
indicated the injury to his hand. “And I
got off easy. Some of the other guys are
worse. Even with the reserve guys—
who were also on the bus—we don’t
have enough healthy guys left to fill the
bench.” Letting out a loud breath, he
leaned down to Patrick. “I’m telling you
again. I love you.”

The older man smiled. “You

better.”

Pressing his lips to Patrick’s, Jason

let himself get lost in the touch of his
lover, allowing Patrick to dictate the

pace of the kiss. Patrick’s mouth opened
and he pushed his tongue inside Jason’s
mouth, and Jason moaned. Before he got
too carried away, though, he forced
himself to pull away.

“Get some sleep, lover.”
Patrick’s eyes were already starting

to close, and with a little smile, Jason
released his hand and left the room.
Back in the waiting room, he found an
empty chair, and before he could stop
them, the tears were flowing. He knew
Patrick was going to be okay, but he
couldn’t seem to get that through to his
brain, and soon he was racked with
sobs. He bent at the waist, his hands
clutching his stomach, and helplessly
gave in to his misery. Stephen

approached him and sat down.

“Hey, Roney, it’s all right. Let it

out. He’s okay.” He put his arm around
Jason and rubbed his shoulder. “Shh. Let
it out.”

Unable to think straight, Jason

turned into the man’s embrace, and
Stephen’s other arm came around him.
“I’m s-sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.

You love him. We get that.”

“But—”
“But nothing. You’re our teammate,

and we support you.”

The man was speaking quietly, but

Jason could feel the gaze of some of the
other guys on him, and his face flamed.

“I’m making a fool of myself.”

“No, you’re not. You’re reacting

exactly like anybody would in this
situation. Don’t be ashamed.” Continuing
to rub Jason’s back, Stephen asked, “So
I take it this is a mutual thing?”

“Yeah.”
“Good for you guys. I like Patrick,

and I like you. I’m sure you’ll be great
together.”

Jason drew back and looked at

Stephen. “You really think so? You’re
not freaked out?”

“I have gay friends. It doesn’t

bother me. And it’s really none of my
business. It’s not anyone’s business.”

Jason saw a flash go off and looked

up. “Shit.”

Stephen turned. “What?”
“Somebody just took a picture of

us.”

Rob piped up. “Where?”
Jason pointed down a hall. “He’s

running.”

“Bastard.” Rob took off after the

man, and Jason and Stephen watched
him go. A couple of the other guys
remarked they should make sure Rob
didn’t kill the guy and followed them.

“I caused so much trouble.”
“You did nothing. The press is a

bunch of assholes looking for a story.
They’ve been all over me since I
punched Vladimov. Apparently I wasn’t

allowed to be offended when somebody
used a homophobic slur unless I was
gay. What a crock.”

“This is just going to fuel them.”
Stephen’s

expression

turned

thunderous. “Fuck ’em. Let everybody
think whatever they want to.”

Marty sighed. “I’m starting to hate

the press. Once they think about how
Jason is a player and Patrick’s an
advisor—something I’m not thrilled
about, by the way—they’re going to go
after both of you like a starving dog to a
bone.” Both Jason and Stephen regarded
him, and he continued. “This whole mess
with the slur is ridiculous and takes the
focus off where it should be—on the
great hockey being played.” He frowned.

“Of course, our tournament’s done.
Thank God it wasn’t worse, though.”

The remaining guys murmured their

agreement, and Jason pulled away from
Stephen and settled himself back in his
seat. Stephen handed him a bunch of
tissues from the box next to him, and
Jason thanked him before wiping his
eyes and nose. No one was avoiding his
gaze, which was a positive sign. He
hoped Rob didn’t get himself in trouble
if he caught up with that photographer,
though. He had a bright future ahead of
him in the NHL, and Jason would hate to
see that sullied just because the guy was
sticking up for his teammates.

The players and staff still at the

hospital started catching cabs back to the

hotel a little later, and Rob returned to
tell them the man had gotten away. Jason
thanked him for trying, and he too went
back to the athletes’ village. Soon only
Marty, Jason, Stephen, and a few team
officials remained.

“I’d tell you go home, but I know if

I did, you’d ignore me, so I won’t waste
my breath,” Marty told him.

“I want to see him again before I

leave.”

“I figured as much. I’ll go check if

they’re allowing anyone back there.”

He limped up to the desk, and Jason

watched as he and the woman had a
protracted conversation. Marty came
back.

“They’ve moved him into Intensive

Care, and they said no one can see him
until tomorrow morning, so you might as
well go catch some shut-eye.”

“What about you?”
“I want to wait until everybody’s

out of surgery. You, however, need to go
back to your room and get some sleep.
Coach’s orders.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for being so

cool about this. It’s probably going to
blow up in all our faces.”

“Well, like I said, I’m not thrilled

with the circumstances, but we won’t
tolerate any homophobic bullshit.”
Marty leaned closer. “Look, my brother
is gay. I may not be able to understand
what you’re going through, but I’ll be

damned if I let anybody give you a hard
time. I’m beyond pissed that after that
horrific accident, all the press will talk
about is your sexuality. I mean, people
fucki ng died, and they’re practically
ignoring that. It’s bullshit.”

“Thanks.”
“I won’t lie to you, though, kid. I

can only control so much, and you may
have to put up with some crap from other
people.”

“I know. I guess there’s nothing we

can do about it now.”

“Nope, so get some rest.”
Jason shared a cab back to his

room with Stephen. Before Stephen got
out of the cab at his dorm, he turned and

faced Jason.

“We’ve got your back, man.”
“I appreciate that. And sorry about

slobbering all over your shirt.”

Stephen smiled. “Maybe it’ll earn

me some ‘sensitive guy’ points with the
ladies.”

“Ugh. I never thought I’d be a

straight guy’s wingman.”

Clapping him on the back, Stephen

laughed. “Hey, whatever works to get
laid, you know?”

“I’ll trust you on that.”
“Later, man.”
Jason dragged himself to his own

dorm room and crawled into bed.
Tonight had been a manifestation of

every one of his worst nightmares, and
he had no idea what tomorrow would
bring once the story of his relationship
with Patrick spread, as it inevitably
would. Exhausted, he closed his eyes
and slept soundly until the light from the
early-morning sun woke him.

Chapter Ten

Patrick had no idea he had so many

muscles. And bones. And ligaments. And
nerves. Apparently he had a ton, and
they all fucking hurt. Hockey was
nothing compared to the hell he’d gone
through last night. He didn’t remember
much of it, just the sudden lurch of the
bus and then feeling like he was
swimming underwater and unable to get
to the surface.

He knew one thing, though. Jason

loved him.

His body stiffened. Jason loved

him.

Oh my God, Jason said he loved

me in front of other people.

“Fuck…”
Opening his eyes, he immediately

winced at the brightness. Then an angel
blocked the harsh fluorescents, and he
smiled.

“Yeah, he’s awake. And loopy,

from the looks of things.”

“So beautiful.”
“He must have a concussion if he

thinks I’m beautiful.” Marty?

Someone snorted. “I doubt he’s

talking about you.”

Ah, Jason. His true angel appeared

and looked down at him, love shining in
the depths of his eyes.

“Do you want some water? The

nurses should be in soon.”

“Hurts.”
“I know, baby.”
Baby?
“Baby?”
“Yeah, baby.” Jason placed a hand

on Patrick’s forearm. “Marty knows.
Hell, by now probably everybody
knows.”

“Everybody?” Patrick frowned. He

used to be able to form complete
sentences, but man, right now that
sounded like work.

“Yeah. There was some press

around last night. It’s kind of hard to
keep stuff like this under wraps.” Jason
grabbed a cup and poured some water

from a pitcher sitting on the table at his
bedside.

“You’re calm.”
Jason gave him a half smile. “I

don’t have much of a choice.”

He took a few small sips of the

water Jason held to his mouth. “I’m
sorry.”

“Not your fault.”
“Don’t remember…”
“I don’t think it’s something you

need to remember, hon. It was pretty
bad.”

“How many dead?” Patrick saw

Marty and Jason exchange a look.

Marty spoke up. “Four.”
“From the team?”

“No, not all from the team. The two

people in the truck that hit us, plus the
bus driver.”

He hesitated, and even Patrick’s

addled brain knew those numbers didn’t
add up.

“And Carl.”
Patrick’s eyes squeezed shut as he

tried to process everything. Carl was
one of the team’s assistant equipment
managers. He had never been married
and had been with the Olympic program
for probably twenty years.

“Shit.”
“Are you in pain?” Jason’s voice

was high-pitched, and Patrick forced his
eyes open again.

“Yes.”

Even ex-hockey players

were notorious for being stoic about
pain, but he couldn’t lie to Jason.

A nurse stuck her head in the door.

“Is awake?”

Jason nodded, and then the nurse

bustled into the room, carrying a tablet
computer. When did medicine get so
fancy? She took his vitals and then asked
him about the pain. At first he said four
on the sale of one to ten, but when Jason
frowned, he revised his answer to eight.
The nurse said she’d confer with the
doctor to make sure the pain meds on
order were correct and then come back
to administer them. With a sigh, Patrick
watched her leave.

“What day is it?”

“Saturday,” Jason supplied. “The

bus crash was last night—Friday night.”

“Players hurt?”
Marty cut in. “None with anything

life threatening, but our tournament is
done. Too many injuries.” He glanced at
Jason and then added, “But don’t worry
about any of that now. You need your
rest.”

“You should try to go back to

sleep,” Jason said. “I’ll be here as long
as they let me stay.”

“I, on the other hand, need to go

take care of a few things, but I’ll be back
later to check up on you.”

Marty looked away for a minute

before returning his gaze to Patrick.

“I’m glad you’re all right. When I

think—” He shook his head. “Thank God
it wasn’t worse. See you boys later.”
Marty left, and Jason turned back to
Patrick.

“Sleep.”
“Marty’s okay about us?”
He shrugged. “As he told me, he’s

not thrilled about the circumstances but
realizes there’s little he can do about
that now. He’s been really supportive.
Now stop worrying and go to sleep.”

Despite the pain, Patrick fell asleep

quickly. Now that he was a little more
alert, though, his dreams were filled
with screams, breaking glass, and
twisting metal.

* * * *

When Patrick woke up next, he felt

a fine sheen of sweat on his upper lip.
He looked down to see Jason rubbing
his thumb over the back of his hand.

“I think you’ve been having

nightmares. I tried to soothe you, but I
didn’t want to wake you unless I had to.”

“Love you.”
Jason’s expression softened. “I

love you too.”

“We’re sappy.” Patrick made an

exaggerated face, and Jason laughed.

“I never thought I’d say this, but

fuck it. I’m fine with being sappy if it
means I get you in the bargain.”

They spoke quietly for another

couple of minutes, pointedly ignoring
any talk of the Olympics and the crash,
and then the nurse returned.

“You look better. More color,” she

said as she took his blood pressure.

“He’s hot,” Jason insisted. The

nurse gave him what could only be
described as an indulgent smile.

“Yes. But he is not for me. He is

for you. And he has little fever.” With a
wink, she left the room.

Jason watched her leave and then

faced Patrick. “I may never get used to
talking about us publicly.”

The nurse had told Patrick the

doctor was behind in his rotation and
would be coming in to see him as soon

as he could, but he needed to know what
was going on. His leg was completely
immobilized from groin to ankle, and he
could feel other injuries too.

“Tell me what the doctor said.”
Jason’s gaze skittered away. “We

should wait for him.”

“I want you to tell me. How bad is

it?”

With a sigh, Jason regarded him.

“Your leg is the worst. It’s got a
compound fracture, plus a big, deep cut.
You won’t even be able to walk on
crutches until that heals.”

Patrick nodded slowly, trying to

process the information.

Good thing I don’t play hockey

anymore.

“What else?”
“You had a lot of stuff, like little

pieces of metal and junk, but they got
them out and stitched up anything that
needed it. And you have a cracked rib.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

He lifted his hand toward Jason’s
bandaged one, and the other man
nodded.

“I’m okay. Just some bumps and

bruises mostly. If we were still able to
play, I’d be out there.”

Patrick smiled a little. “You’d play

with a severed limb.”

“Nah. The Olympics guidelines for

players specifically says no severed

limbs.”

He appreciated Jason’s attempts to

make him laugh, but every time he
moved more than a few inches, pain
seared through him. Not wanting to hurt
the younger man’s feelings, though,
Patrick smiled again.

“Ha-ha.”
Jason got a phone call from Marty,

telling him he was on his way back. For
a while Jason was relaying Marty’s
responses to Patrick, but that abruptly
ended and Patrick watched as Jason’s
face colored. He wasn’t sure if it was
fear, embarrassment, anger, or something
else, but he didn’t like it. Jason got off
the phone and then went to stare out the
window.

“You might as well tell me.”
Shoulders slumped, Jason leaned

into the window, resting his forehead
against it. “You don’t need to worry
about this shit right now.”

“If it’s upsetting you, I sure as hell

do.”

Jason ran a hand over the back of

his neck as he blew out a loud breath
that fogged the glass in front of him.
“There’s a picture in the newspaper
from last night of Stephen and I hugging.
It’s not even with the article about the
crash; there’s a whole piece wondering
if Stephen and I are getting it on and
that’s why Vladimov called him a fag.
There was also a suggestion of a love
triangle with you, me, and him.”

Reaching up, he banged on the glass with
the side of his fist, and Patrick jumped.
“What business is it of anyone’s who I
fuck, who I love?”

“People make it their business

because they don’t understand.”

Jason swung around. “They can say

whatever they want about me. Last night
made one thing crystal clear. I’m done
hiding.” He stopped talking and looked
at Patrick. “As long as it’s okay with you
to go public. I didn’t even think about
what you wanted when I outed us both. I
was just so scared, and I wanted you to
know how I felt.”

Patrick couldn’t help but smile.

Jason loved him. “That’s okay, man. I’m
tired of denying it too. This isn’t the way

I would’ve chosen to come out, but it’s
done now, so don’t worry about it.”

“I’m surprised the paper bothered

with Stephen and me when it’s clear they
know about you.”

“He’s a bigger star. Sells papers.”
“It’s bullshit!”
“I know. Please calm down.”

Patrick was pretty pissed too, but there
was little either of them could do about
this situation. Jason was younger than
him, though, and probably not as able to
let stuff slide off his back. Patrick had
been doing it for so many years, it was
second nature. He didn’t like to see
Jason angry and upset and yet be so
helpless to fix it, though.

Jason sat on the end of the bed and

put his head in his hands. Patrick wished
he was close enough to reach out and
touch him, but even if had been closer,
moving wasn’t fun. He’d do it to comfort
his man, though.

“By the way,” Patrick said, “I’m

fine with going public. I’m too old for
this shit.”

“They’re talking about an ethics

investigation,” Jason told him, his
eyebrows drawing down. “Because
you’re an advisor. They said maybe you
pushed for me because you wanted to
sleep with me.”

“Anyone who knows anything

realizes there’s a lot more to these
decisions than the word of one man.”

“But a lot of people don’t know

any better. They’re going to crucify you.
This blows.”

“Hey, this is going to sound corny,

but as long as we have each other, we’ll
be okay.”

Jason nodded, but Patrick could tell

he didn’t believe him.

“What if they force me out of the

league? It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
A tear started to fall, and Jason swiped
at it.

“Times are changing. You might be

the first professional hockey player to
come out as gay, but I doubt things will
be as bad as you think.” Then a thought
occurred to him. “Did the guys find out
last night, or this morning when they saw

the paper?”

“Last night. They were all here.”
“And how did they react?”
He smiled a little. “I didn’t see any

pitchforks, and a couple came right out
and said they didn’t care what I was, just
that I could play hockey.” His
expression sobered as he stared at his
hands. “But you and I both know there
are homophobic assholes in the league.”

“There are also racist assholes, and

that hasn’t stopped African-American
guys from playing. There are guys who
are just general assholes. You’re going
to run into that everywhere you go,
whether you’re the most ‘normal’ guy or
not.”

“If you think that, why didn’t you

come out?”

Patrick considered for a moment.

“Momentum. I’d spent so much of my
life since I figured out I was gay at
fifteen, pretending to be something I
wasn’t, that it just became easier in
some ways to continue to live the lie.
But I don’t want to do that anymore. Any
shit that’s out there, we’ll face together.”

Jason stood and made his way to

the head of the bed.

“You amaze me.” Leaning down, he

placed a gentle kiss on Patrick’s
forehead. Drawing back enough that they
could look into each other’s eyes, he
continued. “I’ve never been so scared.
Never.”

“Shh. It’s over.”
With a little mewl, Jason grazed his

lips over Patrick’s.

“Is that okay?”
“Come here. I want a real kiss.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Kiss me. Make me feel alive.”
They both jumped back when they

heard a throat clearing. Marty was
leaning against the door frame.

“I support you guys, but I’m not

sure I’m ready to see you go at each
other.”

He smirked, and Patrick chuckled

when Jason rolled his eyes.

“Who said we were going to

perform for you? You can’t afford us,”

Jason said in good fun.

“Be nice,” Patrick warned Jason.
“Yeah. I fully intend to coach for a

long time, and you’ll want to stay on my
good side, kid.” Coming into the room,
Marty handed Jason a paper. “I thought
you’d want to see it for yourself.”

Jason silently read the article, his

mouth drawing into a thin line. Without a
word he held it up so Patrick could read
it. Patrick grunted. The article was bad,
but it was clear they were reaching with
their commentary. A moment later Jason
tossed it toward one of the guest chairs.

“Should we do anything? Can we

sue people for this? They shouldn’t be
able to just drag our names through the
mud.” Jason straightened. “Ohhhhh God.

I haven’t come out to my parents. They
couldn’t afford to come over here, and
now they’re going to see this.” Putting
his hand to his stomach, Jason used the
other to grip the handrail of Patrick’s
bed.

“Don’t get excited,” Patrick said in

what he hoped was a calming tone.
“There’s nothing you can do about it if
they see it. Will they react badly?”

“I have no idea. My parents are like

a blueprint of suburban normalcy.”

Patrick turned his attention back to

Marty. “Is there any plan to deal with
this fallout?”

Marty nodded. “A USA Hockey rep

will be here to talk to both of you soon. I
already told them the only acceptable

way to react is with total support. I have
to admit I was a little surprised they
seemed to agree with me, especially
with one of you being in management
and the other a player.” Walking farther
into the room, Marty put his hand on
Jason’s shoulder. “Don’t worry until you
have a reason to. That’s what my
grandmother always used to say.”
Looking from Jason to Patrick, he
continued. “I need to go. There’s a press
conference in a bit. A bunch of the guys
and staff were talking about coming
down but weren’t sure if they’d be
allowed in to see you. I’ll check with the
nurses on my way out, and if they are,
I’ll let them know. For now, just relax.
Both of you. You have our support and

the support of your teammates, which
should help now and once we get back
home.”

“We appreciate this, Marty,” Jason

said. “We know it isn’t going to be easy
for anybody.”

Marty waved him off. “It might not

be easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.
You guys know that better than most.”

Once Marty was gone, Jason

picked up Patrick’s hand. “It isn’t going
to be easy, just like Marty said. We
might encounter a lot of assholes who
think what we’re doing is wrong.”

“There

are

those

people

everywhere,” Patrick replied. “I’m not
going to let anybody tell me who I can
and can’t love. You’re too important to

me. Even if I lose everything—which I
don’t think will happen anyway—this
still would’ve all been worth it.”

Jason indicated Patrick’s leg.

“Even the pain and all the recovery
time? Having your private life exposed
to so many people?”

“Every second.”
“I love you.” Jason squeezed

Patrick’s hand. “We can do this, right?
Together?”

“I love you too, and you make me

happier than I ever thought I could be.”
Patrick smiled. “So yeah, we can do
this. Together.”

Loose Id Titles by Cassandra

Carr

Caught

Master Class

See the Light

Talk to Me

Cassandra Carr

Cassandra

Carr

is

a

multi-

published,

award-winning

erotic

romance writer with Loose Id, Ellora's
Cave, Siren, and Sybarite Seductions,
who lives in Western New York with
her husband, Inspiration, and her
daughter, Too Cute for Words. When not
writing she enjoys watching hockey and
hanging out on Twitter. Cassandra's
book Caught was recently named Best
BDSM

Book

2011

by

LoveRomancesCafe

and

her

book

Impact was named May 2012’s Book of
the Month by BDSM Book Reviews.

For

more

information

about

Cassandra, check out her website at

http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com

,

"like" her Facebook fan page at

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCassandraCarr

or

follow

her

on

Twitter

at

http://www.twitter.com/Cassandra_Carr

.

Table of Contents

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Loose Id Titles by Cassandra Carr
Cassandra Carr

Table of Contents

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Loose Id Titles by Cassandra Carr
Cassandra Carr