by Kate Meader
Well, he’d never met Lorenzo Moretti.
Before Dante could respond, the man himself stepped into the kitchen.
“Sofia, we are leaving now.”
His sister looked stricken. “Papa, are you sure? I made zabaglione and I have fresh fruit from the market.” She yanked open the fridge, as if producing the dessert quickly would convince their father to stay.
It wouldn’t. Lorenzo had made up his mind. Even now, he wouldn’t meet Dante’s gaze.
Cade stepped in, his hand out. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Moretti. I hope we get to do it again some time.”
Lorenzo cut him dead. Fuck.
Gazing at the old man’s departing back, Cade grimaced before breaking into that heartbreaker of a smile he wore as armor.
“That went well.” Just like Matty Fucking Marino, who thought he could change the mind of an old fool about the best way to chop a carrot. Cade had used that smile a lot since assuming the mantle of first active player in the NHL to come out. He used it when an opposing player dissed him on the ice, when a “fan” called him names in a bar, when some idiot podcaster made disparaging remarks.
The sound of the front door closing was like the crack of a rifle report. His mother hadn’t even said goodbye.
They could treat their son any way they wanted—Dante had lived with that for years and was beyond the hurt they could inflict on him. But no way in hell would he let them get away with disrespecting Cade.
“Excuse me one moment.”
Cade’s eyes flew wide. “Dante, it’s o—”
Dante was already out the door, the November chill flash-freezing his skin. “Papa, wait up.”
His father had just beeped the alarm. He turned, his face a gargoyle of disdain.
“What?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
His mother’s mouth fell open. “Dante!”
“I don’t care what you think of me,” Dante went on. “Make your snide comments. Tell me how much I’ve disappointed you. Never forgive me for bringing shame on the family. But you will not show such blatant disrespect to the man I love.”
His father winced at the expression of affection. Well, keep your face that way because I’m just getting started.
“You don’t know a single thing about him. You won’t even make the effort to be hospitable to a guest in your daughter’s home. More important, you’ve shown your grandchildren how ugly your hate is.”
Lorenzo’s mouth thinned. “I don’t have to take this—”
“No, Papa, you don’t. But you keep this up and your grandkids will only remember you as the cranky homophobe who despised his son because he didn’t agree with who he loved.”
Someone held his arm. “Dante, it’s okay,” Sofia said, and he heard her sorrow for putting these events in motion.
“No, Sofe, it’s not.” He turned to Cade, who stood frozen at the door, pale beneath his tan. “Time to go.”
* * *
They had been here before. A thirty-minute car ride with Dante behind the wheel as they tried to deal with the fallout of a blow-up. The last time, Cade had just made a pass at Dante, his new boss, in a downtown Chicago gay club when Dante had no idea that Cade was attracted to men. The sexual tension on the ride back to Riverbrook had been delicious.
Today was different. Today his guy was hurting.
Cade might have misjudged this, but he was merely following Dante’s own advice. A short sharp blow was invariably better than a lifetime of aching. That’s what Dante had told him when Cade balked at coming out to his own father almost four years ago. Though he rarely talked about it, Dante’s estrangement from his parents gnawed at him. Cade had taken a risk and hatched a plan with Sofia.
“I know you’re angry but—”
“If you know that, then it might be best if you not say another word.”
Silence cloaked them for the rest of the journey, through the hotel lobby, in the elevator, right up until they got to their room. Fine. Cade would rather they had this out in private.
The door closed. Cade opened his mouth to speak—only to have it covered with Dante’s brutal kiss. Cade groaned in relief that they were connecting even if it was at this base level.
Dante pushed him against the door. The kiss was angry, both tortured and torture.
“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” Cade asked between pants.
“Like you talked to me before setting up the family reunion?”
Still mad, then.
Dante unbuckled Cade’s belt with jagged motions, his eyes ablaze and pinning Cade in place. Cade knew that look. Knew it was Dante’s go-to strategy for reining in his emotions. He was transferring all his hurt to this and Cade would do anything to absorb that pain for him.
He stopped resisting. He let his mind go blank except for the urgent need he had to be manhandled and fucked to within an inch of his life. He let Dante strip him, steer him to the bed, hover over him with all that sexy menace.
Without diverting his gaze, Dante removed his clothes, revealing that powerful, hairy body Cade went wild for. The man was still in stellar shape, his shoulders and chest broad, his hips trim, and those thighs? Fuck, just imagining them snugly fitting behind his, all that rough hair against Cade’s hams turned him rock hard. Dante’s cock stood proudly, ready to plunder.
Not that Dante would make this quick. He would drag Cade to deep, dark places before he drove them to that final destination. He removed the lube from the nightstand drawer and poured it over his hands. Slowly. Coating his fingers to draw attention to each long wand of imminent pleasure.
Cade couldn’t help touching himself, using the silky leak of pre-cum to smooth the glide of his hand over his cock. It was hard to believe that these last few years had never held a dull moment. No one excited Cade the way Dante did. So different from each other, yet so in sync. These years with Dante had been the ultimate blessing and if it was to end—best not to think of that. Best not to think of a life without him. They would deal with that if it came.
“Lie back,” Dante commanded as he lay out beside Cade. His slicked fingers drew a path down Cade’s chest then took over Cade’s rough cock stroke. Why did it always feel better when Dante took charge? A little mean, a little rough. So damn good.
He didn’t linger long on Cade’s dick, instead trailing fingertips down over his balls, along the sensitive taint, all the way to where he was clenching in anticipation. Given how annoyed he was, Cade would have expected more pressure. But Dante moved with a deliberate and achingly gentle intent, all the more arousing because he was keeping his anger in check.
“It’s okay to be get mad,” Cade said, almost daring Dante to lose control.
“Have I not been satisfying you, polpetto? Was this stunt necessary to spice up our sex life?”
Cade shook his head, ashamed for joking about it. “I wanted to fix it. Mend your heart.” He had hoped to smooth the ragged edges of his guy’s pain. Sole responsibility for another person’s happiness was heavier than he’d imagined.
Dante’s eyes glittered with melancholy. “You fix it every day.” His kiss consumed, as always.
Dante’s finger breached Cade’s body, and with the addition of another digit, his thighs fell open to beg for more. Scissoring inside him, Dante twisted and teased, looking for sweetly sensitive spots to exert torture.
The invasion continued, testing strokes vying with shallow thrusts, until Cade hovered on the edge. But Dante refused to push him over. Displaying perfect dominance, he steered Cade to his front, his fingers still inside but then replaced with his wet, probing tongue.
“Jesus,” Cade gasped. How could he still be sensitive after Dante’s fingers had pierced him so absolutely? That slippery muscle found new nerve endings, new ways to extract pleasure.
Every time felt like the first.
Dante knelt behind Cade, kissing and licking his ass cheek, reaching around to add a few lazy strokes to prime Cade’s cock. Cade experienced h
im everywhere: his nipples, his abs, his balls, his cheeks spread wide as Dante massaged with both thumbs. Opening him up, he pressed further, preparing for possession. Cade arched into that velvet touch and Dante pushed the blunt head of his cock against his hole. Past the tight ring of muscle, breaking down any resistance—not that there was much. Cade was too far gone, his body limp with sensation, shivering with the pure pleasure of total annihilation of his self.
“Dante,” Cade whispered. Just his name, all the love he had for this man distilled to one word.
Dante’s cock seemed to thicken at the sound. Slow sensuousness gave way to urgency, his thrusts becoming faster, more feverish. White-hot sparks shot through Cade’s body and he came in thick, glorious spurts. Dante went still, and with one final thrust, flooded Cade’s body with wet heat.
Chapter Five
“So, now, can we talk?”
Dante turned his head, pride in his expression. He should be proud. He’d made Cade happy to be dominated.
“What would you like to talk about?”
“Dante.” Honey.
Dante sighed, more resigned than mad. Three cheers for the anger managing power of orgasms! “I get that you thought you were helping but this isn’t a situation that can be fixed with a cozy holiday chat over ravioli. It’s been almost thirteen years. If my father wanted a relationship with me, then he would have done something about it by now.”
“And what about you? Do you want one with him?”
Dante shook his head but he wasn’t saying no. It was one of those I’m still thinking gestures. “I don’t know. Other things—other people—have filled the void for me. It aches, but you make it better. Loving you and being loved in return makes the rest of it irrelevant.”
Cade would be a robot if he didn’t admit to enjoying that sentiment but he refused to believe it was enough. “Irrelevant? Come on, Dante. I know family is important to you. I see you with your sisters, their kids. Don’t tell me you don’t want your parents in that circle, too.”
Dante leaned up on his elbow and faced him. “Why is this so important to you? We’ve been together for three and a half years. We have good friends, this team we love, careers we excel at. Tucker’s wholeheartedly welcomed me into your family.”
“Sometimes I think he loves you more than me.”
Dante smiled. “Now we know that’s impossible. But I don’t get why my relationship with my parents is suddenly a priority.”
Cade swallowed. Time to bite the puck.
“Nothing lasts forever. It could all go away.”
“Which is why we need to make the best of what we have,” Dante said.
“Even if I’m traded?”
Dante’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“So it’s true!”
Dante sank back into the pillow. “Harper and I are still discussing.”
“Harper and you? This is my fucking life.”
“Hmm, what’s that like?”
Jesus, when that snark wasn’t turning him on it was pissing him off royally. “It’s not the same thing. I was trying to help. You were—are—hiding something important to my future. To our future.”
“A future I’m trying to secure for us. Negotiations are at a delicate stage.”
“Negotiations? Talk about me like I’m not here.”
“In Harper’s office, you’re not. You are merely an asset that we can move around as we see fit. It’s not pleasant but it’s necessary because no player is bigger than the team.”
Gretzy on the cross. From the beginning, Dante had gone to great lengths to assure Rebels CEO, Harper Chase, that his relationship with a player on the team would never affect his job. Three years ago, he’d recused himself from Cade’s last contract negotiation, vowing to let the chips fall as they may. But Cade had understood then that he was never in danger of being traded. They’d just won the Stanley Cup.
When Cade’s bestie, Violet—Harper’s sister and a team owner—told him that his name had been mentioned as a possible trade this year, he’d known this was different. He also knew he couldn’t place Dante in an untenable position. The man had already put his job on the line by hooking up with Cade.
Dante’s brow wrinkled. “So you heard a rumor about being traded from—let me guess—Violet? And you decided that you would fix my relationship with my dad because you and I wouldn’t be together anymore? And you wanted to make sure I’m in a good place before we go our separate ways?”
“I want you to be happy.” And neither was Dante denying the likelihood of them being separated in the not too distant future. A small part of Cade had hoped it was all a big misunderstanding, though realistically, that was not how sports franchises worked. Rebels culture meant the bonds were closer than most, but this was a business. While the franchise owners would be sympathetic, Dante was right: no player—or couple—was bigger than the team.
“I am happy,” Dante said. “With you. Even when you piss me off and try to interfere in a family dynamic that you don’t understand.”
But.
Cade. Might. Be. Traded.
“But the ‘happy with you’ thing isn’t written in stone, is it, Dante? Not when I could be sent to the other side of the country for the good of the team. If you can calmly sit with Harper and discuss something that will put a stake in us, then maybe I’ve misjudged how far I thought we had come.”
“Cade …” Dante’s phone rang. He ignored it. “I need you to have faith that I’m doing everything I can to make sure this turns out for the best.”
The best? But for whom?
“I know you can’t use your relationship with me to convince Harper to keep me. It’s a conflict.”
The phone rang again and this time, Dante leaned over to look. “It’s Sofia.”
He didn’t pick up, but he read the screen as a text came in.
“What is it?”
“My father. He’s in the hospital.”
* * *
Alicia was sitting in the waiting area of the emergency room when Dante arrived.
“Allie.” He hunkered down and took her hands in his. “How is he?”
She wiped away a tear. “Artery blockage, they said. He had chest pains and didn’t want go to the ER.”
“Of course.”
“But Mom insisted.” She shook her head. “He’s going to have a stent put in? I think that’s what they called it. Sofe and Mom are with him now.”
He took the seat beside her. “Who’s with the kids?”
“Mrs. Marino—remember Matty Marino? He used to work at the restaurant. His mom.” She looked around, her brow lined with concern. “Where’s Cade?”
“Parking the car. Don’t worry, Allie, he’s going to be okay. Guy’s too stubborn for anything else.” Anything to do with the heart was serious but stent surgery was routine these days. Knowing Lorenzo Moretti like Dante did, he hazarded a guess that the old man had been ignoring those chest pains for a while.
Better to think that than the alternative: that the stress of meeting his son after so many years apart might have tipped him over the edge.
He put his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have shouted at him, and on the street in front of the neighbors. He must have been so angry.” Ashamed, too. His father was very concerned with appearances.
Allie squeezed his arm. “Not your fault, fratellino. And like you said, he’ll be fine.”
Cade walked in and made a beeline for them. “Any news?”
“Angioplasty,” Dante said. “He’s about to go into the OR.”
Cade looked off toward the large doors that led to the exam rooms. “Are you going to see him?”
Dante stared at him. “And send his blood pressure higher? No.”
“But this might—”
“Not now, Cade. I’m not going to risk doing anything that upsets him. He’s going to be fine and I’ll see him after.”
Cade sat beside him and took his hand. “Okay. Whatever you need.”<
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Dante squeezed it, immediately regretful for snapping. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Oh, I dunno. We get what we deserve, I find.”
Dante interlocked his fingers with Cade’s and waited for more news.
Chapter Six
Cade walked into the lobby of the team hotel in Philly and bumped into his best friend, Violet Vasquez-St. James. Despite being co-owner of the Chicago Rebels with her sisters, Violet would never be termed a hockey fan. She rarely attended games and she never traveled to see them play away, so this was a surprise.
“What are you doing here?”
She grinned, her teeth white and bright, which seemed to make the pink overtone in her dark hair glow. “Lovely to see you, too! I’m here to be your support in troubled times. How’s Dante’s dad?”
“Better. Out of surgery and in recovery.”
“And Dante?”
Cade shook his head. His heart ached. Leaving his guy behind in New York was not sitting well with him.
Violet gave him hug. She wasn’t a natural hugger so it seemed to carry more weight. He was incredibly touched that she’d flown to Philly to see him. “Let’s have a drink in the bar.”
Once settled in a cozy booth, Cade filled Vi in on lunch with the Morettis, Dante’s reaction (including the awesome sex—it was that kind of friendship) and his father’s health.
“So you haven’t really dealt with the consequences of being traded thing?”
“He’s got so much on his mind with his dad that my insecurities pale ever so slightly.”
“Insecurities? You have valid concerns about whether the guy you want to spend the rest of your life with is okay with selling you to another team!”
Cade thought he was dramatic. “This isn’t a slavery ring, Vi. We go into this business knowing that we’re valuable assets that can be traded at will.” Now he sounded like Dante.
“But …” Vi waved a hand. “Both of you have careers in a very niche market. Dante is currently negotiating his contract and I know for a fact that Harper wants him to stay. And if Harper wants it, Harper gets it.”