by Rachel Reid
“You didn’t talk about it?” Vanessa asked.
“No. But we’re going to see each other tomorrow night before he leaves for his road trip.”
“Road trip? Boo.”
“Yeah, it sucks, but...” Fabian shrugged. “I’ll be busy. I have an album to finish, a launch to book, and a mini-tour to plan.”
“When are you touring?” Vanessa asked.
“There’s a middle-of-winter music festival in Kingston that I’ve been invited to play. I thought I’d build a little tour around it. I could just take trains instead driving myself around Ontario in February.”
“Um, you’re not going alone,” she said.
“I can be careful!”
“Fabian,” Tarek warned, “at least find another musician to tour with.”
Fabian wanted to argue, but he knew his friends were right to worry. “I’ll ask around,” he promised. “Maybe my label wants to pair me up with someone.”
“Maybe Ryan wants to be your roadie,” Marcus said.
“Except he’ll be playing hockey in February. Because that’s his job.”
Marcus threw up his hands. “How the fuck am I supposed to know when hockey is?”
Fabian wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t hate how much his friends loved him. Or how much they immediately trusted Ryan. Despite his size, his job, and the fact that he seemingly had nothing in common with them, Fabian’s friends had accepted him.
“Thanks,” Fabian said. “I’ll bring him to brunch soon. If he wants to come, I mean.” If we’re actually dating, or whatever.
“Awesome,” Tarek said. “Now can we talk about literally anyone besides Fabian for a change?”
* * *
When Ryan arrived at the practice facility on Sunday, he was surprised to find most of his teammates gathered around the television in the lounge.
“What’s going on?” he asked Wyatt.
“Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov are hosting a press conference. They just announced this new charity thing they are starting.”
“What, together?”
Wyatt laughed. “Wild, right? I guess anyone can put their differences aside if those two can.”
Hollander and Rozanov were famously bitter rivals and had been for years. They were two of the biggest stars in the league—Hollander for Montreal, and Rozanov for Boston before he signed with Ottawa over the summer—and, as far as Ryan or anyone else knew, were not friendly off the ice.
“I guess they’re friends or something,” Wyatt said. “That’s what Hollander said today anyway. That’s going to blow some minds.”
“Yeah.”
They watched as Rozanov shared some heartfelt words about his mother losing her battle with depression.
“God, I didn’t know his mother killed herself,” Wyatt said bluntly.
“I don’t think anyone did.” Ryan had played with him for an entire season and he’d had no idea.
“Except Hollander, I guess. I wonder how long they’ve been friends.”
Ryan couldn’t even begin to guess. When would they even have spent time together off the ice?
It was none of his business, really, so he stopped trying to figure it out. Besides, he was too busy floating on the memories of the past twenty-four hours. His brain was basically useless. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to panic about having to get on a plane on Tuesday.
“They’re probably fucking,” Troy Barrett sneered, which made the group around him laugh.
“Gross,” said Dallas Kent. “Rozanov would never. But I’ll bet Hollander is a fucking homo.”
That launched a debate about Shane Hollander’s sexuality that Ryan walked away from. He could remind them that he was a “fucking homo,” but he just didn’t have the energy.
Wyatt found him in the dressing room. “I told those guys to grow the fuck up,” he said. “Just so you know.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Uh, yes I did. I’m not putting up with that shit and you shouldn’t either.”
Ryan knew that. He should be doing what he could to shut down that sort of bullshit, but he’d spent so many years just trying to escape everyone’s attention, to not cause problems, that the idea of confronting his teammates was intimidating. Which was ridiculous because his job was fighting. But there was a huge difference between dropping the gloves and trading punches on the ice—that was rarely personal—and getting in your teammate’s face in the locker room.
He should say something. He would say something. He waited until everyone was in the dressing room, then he swallowed his nerves and said, “Hey, Kent.”
The room went silent. It was weird. Ryan supposed that’s what happens when someone who doesn’t talk much finally uses his voice.
“What?” Kent asked. Ryan could tell he was trying not to look nervous. Ryan had seen that look on a lot of guys’ faces on the ice.
He rolled his shoulders back and raised his chin so every inch of his height was on display. “Just so you know, I’m gay.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Ryan didn’t think anyone in the room even breathed. And then Kent said, “Okay.”
“Keep that in mind,” Ryan said. Judging by the way Kent’s eyes widened, he hadn’t missed the threat in Ryan’s tone. Not that Ryan would ever beat up a teammate, but Kent didn’t know that.
Kent put his hands up. “Whatever, man. That’s your business. I don’t have a problem with you.”
“I have a problem with you saying homophobic shit about anyone. I don’t want to hear it again.” Ryan felt oddly calm. Almost like he did when he was fighting during a game.
Someone behind Ryan whispered, “Holy shit.”
Kent looked around the room for support, but everyone looked away. “Sure. Fine. I’ll watch what I say, all right?” he finally said.
“Glad to hear it.” Ryan gave him one last hard look, then turned away and sat back down in his stall. The rest of the team went back to whatever they’d been doing before, and the room filled with chatter.
Wyatt elbowed Ryan. “I wish I had a video of that.”
“Should have done that a long time ago.” Ryan’s heart was racing now, but he felt good. It was more like adrenaline and less like fear or panic.
“That shit isn’t going to fly for much longer in this league. Not when one of the biggest stars in the game is out.”
It was true that Scott Hunter coming out the same season he had won the Stanley Cup, the Conn Smythe Trophy for playoff MVP, and the Hart Trophy for regular season MVP had taken a lot of the wind out of the sails of the argument that hockey was a sport for straight men only. But obviously there was still work to be done.
It was time for Ryan to step up and do some of it.
Chapter Nineteen
“Wow.”
Ryan stared in amazement at Fabian’s apartment. Not only was it tidier than Ryan had ever seen it, it looked like some sort of fantasy sex den. The room was mood lit with a combination of dim lamps, candles, and white fairy lights, which made the red walls seem extra sultry. The candles must have been scented because there was an intoxicating sweet and spicy aroma filling the small space.
Also, there were sex toys on the bed.
And if all that wasn’t enough, Fabian was wearing a sleeveless black jumpsuit with flared legs and a plunging V-neck, as well as smoky black eye makeup and dark red lipstick.
Even Ryan’s wildest sexual fantasies weren’t this good.
“Just in case you weren’t clear about what I want tonight,” Fabian said, reaching up to drape his arms around Ryan’s neck, “I thought I’d spell it out.”
He pulled Ryan down for a kiss. Dimly, Ryan worried about ruining his lipstick, but then he stopped caring because Fabian’s mouth was hot and urgent on his.
“Mm,” Fabian murm
ured happily when he pulled away. “I’ve been looking forward to that.”
Miraculously, Fabian’s lipstick hadn’t been ruined. It must be some sort of invincible lipstick. That was good news because Ryan hoped to do a lot more kissing tonight.
“You look incredible,” he said.
“You like?” Fabian released him, then did a little twirl. “A friend made it for me. I’m afraid it will have to come off for what I have planned.”
“I’m okay with that. But can I kiss you some more first?”
“Oh yes.”
This time Ryan hoisted Fabian up, and Fabian wrapped his legs around Ryan’s waist. Ryan pinned him against a wall and kissed him the way he’d been wanting to for days. He dipped his head so he could work on Fabian’s gorgeous neck, which made Fabian gasp and squirm in his arms.
“God, you’re good at that,” Fabian panted. “Missed you.”
Ryan chuckled. “It’s only been a couple of days.”
“You missed me too. Admit it.”
Ryan licked his Adam’s apple. “I missed you.”
Fabian sighed happily and said, “I am so excited to play with you.”
Ryan loved the way Fabian talked about sex. Playing. That’s what it was. Just fun and games. Nothing to worry about.
When Ryan let Fabian get his feet back on the floor, Ryan could see the very prominent outline of Fabian’s erection pressing against the tight fabric of his jumpsuit. Fabian’s hair was disheveled but his makeup remained flawless, and Ryan had never seen anything sexier in his life.
“Are you sure you have to take that off?” Ryan asked, trailing a finger along the V of the plunging neckline.
“I think you’ll like what’s underneath.”
Fabian turned so Ryan could unzip him. “I have some wine, if you want,” Fabian offered.
“Not thirsty.” Ryan pinched the zipper’s narrow tab between his thick fingers and slowly pulled it down, fascinated by the reveal of Fabian’s skin as he went. He was expecting Fabian to be naked underneath, but when the fabric slipped off Fabian’s shoulders and pooled at his feet Ryan could see that he was wearing...
“Holy shit.”
Fabian glanced back over his shoulder. “It was a risk, I know. But I thought you might like it.”
“Yeah.” Ryan swallowed hard. “I like it.” He’d never seen a man wearing lace underwear in person before. Panties, Ryan supposed was the best word. It was hot as fuck.
He smoothed his palm over the delicate black lace that stretched over the perfect globes of Fabian’s ass. Without even thinking about it, he ran his thumb down the seam that dipped into Fabian’s crack, and Fabian moaned his approval.
“I love wearing lace,” Fabian said. He reached back and covered Ryan’s hands with his own, guiding him. Ryan stepped closer so the bulge in his jeans pressed against Fabian’s ass.
“I wouldn’t mind if you wore it all the time,” Ryan growled.
Fabian tipped his head back. “How about you take your shirt off? I want to see that gorgeous chest.”
Ryan stepped back so he could pull his T-shirt off. Fabian turned to face him, and now Ryan could see Fabian’s erection straining against the lace.
“Oh fuck,” Ryan said. He gripped himself through his jeans as a powerful jolt of arousal shot through him.
Fabian’s lips curved into a devilish smile as he fingered his sparkling, heart-shaped nipple piercing. “What do you want, Ryan? We have all night.”
Ryan dropped to his knees. He was overwhelmed by the desire to get his mouth on the lace that was pulled tight against Fabian’s cock. He started by nuzzling him there, then rubbing his face and beard against his dick as Fabian moaned. “God, you do love it.”
Ryan opened his mouth and pressed it against Fabian’s rigid shaft. He felt wild with lust. Some fucked-up part of him wished his teammates could see him now, on his knees for a man wearing lace underwear and makeup. They’d never understand. This wasn’t for them to understand. This had nothing to do with them, and Ryan couldn’t be happier about it.
He licked and kissed until Fabian gasped, “Stop. Fuck. I don’t want to come yet.”
Ryan liked the idea of Fabian coming while still wearing the underwear, but he obeyed and pulled back. Fabian caressed Ryan’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re too good to be true, Ryan Price.”
Ryan turned his head and caught Fabian’s thumb between his teeth. His mind was so wonderfully focused right now. He wasn’t nervous or unsure of himself. He wanted to make Fabian feel good. He wanted to fuck.
“Can I just say, jeans and no shirt is a very good look for you.” Fabian almost sounded drunk, but Ryan doubted he’d had a drop of alcohol. He grinned and stood up so Fabian could get a good look.
“Oh yes,” Fabian purred. He stepped forward and ran his hands over Ryan’s chest. “I love all this hair.”
“Yeah? I thought about waxing it.”
“Don’t you dare.” Fabian rested his fingers on Ryan’s belt buckle. “May I?”
Ryan nodded. He couldn’t deny Fabian anything right now. Not when he was gazing up at him through those long lashes, his eyelids shimmering with black shadow. Ryan dipped his head to kiss Fabian again. He liked that Fabian made him feel attractive. Made him feel...sexy.
Fabian worked open Ryan’s belt while they kissed, then popped open the top two buttons of Ryan’s fly. He stepped back to admire his work as Ryan stood panting, unable to feel even a little self-conscious.
“Let me just commit this to memory,” Fabian said. “Because you look absolutely perfect right now.”
Ryan laughed, and then he may have flexed his ab muscles a bit.
“Oof. Okay,” Fabian said. “Let’s have some fun.”
Fabian went to the bed and lay on his side. Ryan remained standing at the end of the bed because he couldn’t get enough of this image of Fabian sprawled out in a decadent offering. It was the very picture of hedonism, and Ryan still couldn’t believe any of this was really happening to him.
“So,” Fabian said, his fingers walking playfully across the mattress toward the large, purple dildo, “this is the one I promised to review.”
“Should we, uh, start with that, then?”
Fabian held it up and turned it over. “It’s awfully big. Maybe you could get me ready for it?”
Oh hell yes. Ryan was definitely into that. He wanted to get Fabian all loose and open and begging to be filled with that thing. And then maybe with Ryan’s cock.
“And it doesn’t necessarily have to be me on the receiving end,” Fabian said. “I love it all.”
Oh. Ryan had always topped, in the past. It was probably because of his size, but his partners had always wanted him to fuck them.
“Only if you want,” Fabian said quickly. “I’m happy either way. Or we can do both. Like I said, we’ve got all night.”
Ryan decided to try saying what he wanted, without worrying about how embarrassing it might sound. “I want to see you with that dildo in you. I want to watch you take it.”
Fabian’s eyes widened. “My goodness, Ryan. Come over here and tell me more of your good ideas.”
Ryan shucked his pants and socks but left his briefs on, then covered Fabian’s body with his own, kissing him hungrily. He rolled his hips so his own erection ground against Fabian’s, letting Fabian know how turned on he was.
“Oh god,” Fabian gasped. “Tell me what you want to do to me. Tell me.”
Ryan couldn’t come up with words, so he just kept kissing him everywhere. Down his neck, across his chest to his nipple piercing, then down to his belly button. He licked a long stripe up the length of Fabian’s cock, still trapped by the lace underwear, then returned to Fabian’s mouth.
Fabian gripped Ryan’s cock outside his briefs and squeezed, and Ryan thrust involuntarily into his hand. “Fuck yes.
Touch me.”
Fabian shoved his hand inside Ryan’s briefs and wrapped his slim fingers around his rock-hard dick. “Keep talking,” Fabian murmured into his ear.
Dirty talk was extremely far outside of Ryan’s comfort zone, but he wanted to be able to do it for Fabian. It was such a small, simple thing, putting the desires that were filling his head into words. He could try. He was safe here.
“I want to stay in this room forever and make you come over and over again. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Ryan,” Fabian whimpered. “More please.”
“I want your red lips around my dick.” Ryan did flush after he said that. He couldn’t help it. But Fabian’s only reaction was to plant both hands on Ryan’s chest and tip him onto the mattress.
“My pleasure,” he said, then wriggled down Ryan’s body and tugged his briefs down to his thighs. Ryan’s cock thudded against his stomach, and then Fabian wrapped his fingers around the base and took the head into his mouth.
“Oh god. Fuck.” If Ryan didn’t get off tonight, then there was a very real possibility that he might never achieve orgasm ever again in his life. He would never be in a situation this hot again, he was sure of it.
He watched Fabian suck him off as pleasure built but never threatened to spill over into orgasm. It was perfect. He wanted to ride this feeling for as long as possible. But he also really did want to see how many times Fabian could come.
He stopped Fabian by resting a gentle hand on his cheek. “That felt amazing. Thank you.”
Fabian pulled off with a parting lick, and then kissed the inside of Ryan’s thigh. “I certainly don’t mind doing that for a whole lot longer, if you like.”
“I want to try this on you.” Ryan turned his head and grabbed the dildo. It was large, and sort of complicated looking. It had a curvy part at the bottom and a springy part at the top. Ryan studied the toy, brow furrowed, and Fabian laughed. “I’ll talk you through it. It will be fun, I promise.”
He made a shooing gesture with his hands at Ryan. “Get up for a second. I have to put a towel down. This comforter needs two dryer cycles and I’m not made of money.”