by Toni Aleo
“Can I suck your dick?”
He shuddered wantonly at my query. I figured that was a good indicator that he liked the idea.
“Yes,” he replied breathlessly.
I wasted no time in wiggling down between his legs. I studied his cock, ran my hand up and down it, and sniffed at the thick swatch of black hair at the base. He smelled hot, steamy, manly, and sexy. Not as musky as a woman, but still rich and heady.
“If you change your mind…”
I peeked up to find him staring at me, his elbows holding his upper body up from the bed.
“I’ve never smelled a man before, not like this.” I buried my face into the crease of his leg and pulled in a lungful. Shaun rolled his hips. “I like the way you smell.”
“You’re killing me here, Mitch. It’s a slow wonderful death, but you are killing me.”
I liked hearing him talk like that. “Don’t let me fuck this up,” I said, suddenly filled with doubt.
“That’s not even possible. If we stopped right now, this would still be the best sexual encounter that I’ve ever had.” I searched his face for the truth and found it in his eyes.
Tonguing the slit, I licked up the thick droplet of precum, my fingers fisting around his cock. Shaun watched, his thigh muscles quivering as I worked the salty taste of him over my lips and tongue.
“Nice,” I muttered, licking at his dick more, this time with a stronger press of tongue to flesh. He groaned loud and long, his back falling to the bed as I awkwardly began giving my first blowjob. It was way more enjoyable than a lot of girls make it out to be. Maybe I was just so into Shaun and the pleasure he was getting, but I found myself so turned on I had to stop a few times to calm myself. Perhaps I knew how wonderful it felt and that was why I was so into it? Who knows? But I sucked and slurped and gagged and loved his cock until he whimpered for me to stop.
I slid up over him, kissing and touching him everywhere, until I found his mouth. He rolled me roughly to my back. I hissed in pleasure, eager for him to move me where and how he wanted.
“I really want you inside me,” Shaun said against my lips, his pelvis moving steadily, rubbing his cock against mine. “You okay with that? Me riding you?”
“Yeah, oh yeah,” I sighed, lost in clouds of lust and desire. Shaun ran his tongue over mine, sucking on my lower lip, and then coming back to my eager mouth.
Then the kiss ended, and he slid from the bed. I rolled to my side to watch as he dumped his bag on the floor. Amid the tumbled clothes was a box of condoms and tube of lube. My cock jumped at the sight.
“I’ve never done this,” I reminded him as he rolled the condom over my cock. I wondered what that curve would feel like inside me. Would it hurt, or would it rub on my prostate? What did that even feel like, having someone manipulate your prostate? Getting a girl to suck dick was tough enough but finding one that would finger your ass was virtually impossible. I hoped over the next three days I’d be brave enough to have him inside me.
“That’s why I’m taking the reins,” he replied as he slicked up my dick. I trembled strongly when he threw a powerful leg over me, his lips pressing to mine for a deep kiss. “Just lay there and enjoy it.”
“Okay.” Wow, that was brilliant dialog. But nothing else wordy would appear in my brain. Not when he was pressing back onto my cock. I threw my hands over my head, grabbing the headboard instead of him. I wanted to shove him down onto me, impale him, and push into him as deeply as humanly possible.
“Fuck, you got a fat dick,” Shaun ground out as he worked more of me into him. Inch by inch, he took me, easing down onto my cock until I was fully seated and on the cusp of coming.
“Don’t move. Fuck, oh fuck, you’re…this…so hot and tight. No, don’t move.” I arched upward, my spine bowing, and he rocked backward, getting even more cock into his ass. “Fuck, fuck fuck…”
He began moving then, fast and hard, shoving me over the edge within minutes. My balls drew up, and a white pulse of pure pleasure erupted at the base of my spine. He shouted my name as he came, his spunk dotting my chest and stomach.
There wasn’t enough air in the room. Hell, there wasn’t enough air on the planet. My lungs pumped hard, matching the wild beating of my heart.
“That…fucking…best…ever,” I huffed, my cock still pulsing. He made a grunty kind of sound, fell over top of me, and buried his face in my sweaty neck. His chest expanded and deflated with the same crazy speed as mine. I touched his back, his arms, his face, his eyes. My fingers moving over his lashes made him giggle softly. And then he kissed me like I’d never been kissed before.
I know that sounds like some song from the fifties, and maybe it was as cheesy as one, but it was the truth. Loving Shaun had happened long ago, but that was a brotherly love. This…this explosion of emotions as I held him to me after making love with him…this was a solar burst.
“I’ve loved you for years,” I said. I had to. It was as important to let him know that as it was to pull in that next gasp of oxygen.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been there at your side, loving you the same way.”
I grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to mine, tasting of him until we had to break apart. He slipped off me to take care of the condom.
“Grab that dirty towel in the hamper,” I said, sitting up with a mess smeared into the hair on my chest. Shaun returned to the bed, dirty towel in hand, and wiped his spunk from my chest. We fell back into bed and pulled the handmade blanket up over us. Shaun wriggled into my side, his damp hair resting on my bicep.
We lay there for a few minutes, warm and cozy, sated beyond what I had ever imagined being sated could be like. I hoped we could make this work. The chances were high we wouldn’t because we were twenty-three-year-old males doing a long-distance relationship. If that didn’t have disaster plus heartache stamped all over it, I didn’t know what did.
“You’re restless,” Shaun mumbled and picked his head up from my chest. “Something bothering you?”
“I’m scared we’re not going to make this work,” I admitted, my gaze moving from the ceiling to him. He gave me this mellow smile that kind of eased the fear settling in my breast.
“Dude, don’t you know that once a relationship has been consummated on a star-crossed quilt, nothing short of the sun exploding can break it up?”
I quirked an eyebrow. “I’m calling BS on that one.”
“Nope, you can’t. That’s right out of my grandmother’s mouth, and you know grandma’s never lie.”
Okay, he had me there. Guess Shaun and I were going to be together until the sun exploded. I was certainly content to cuddle under this quilt with him until that fateful day arrived.
THE END
Books by V.L. Locey
LGBTQ Releases
Standalones
Holly & Hockey Boots
Life is a Stevie Wonder Song
Improper Fraction
Playmaker – A Venom Novella
New York Nightwings Collection
Colors of Love Series
Lost in Indigo – Colors of Love #1
Touch of a Yellow Sun – Colors of Love #2 (2/27/19)
The Good Green Earth – Colors of Love #3 (9/18/19)
Cayuga Cougars
Point Shot Trilogy Boxed Set
Snap Shot—Cayuga Cougars #1
Open Net—Cayuga Cougars #2
Coach’s Challenge – Cayuga Cougars #3
Overtime - Cayuga Cougars #4
One-on-One – Cayuga Cougars #5 (1/16/19)
A Star-Crossed Christmas – A Cayuga Cougars Holiday Short (11/13/18)
Harrisburg Railers - Coauthored with RJ Scott
Changing Lines #1
First Season #2
Deep Edge #3
Poke Check #4
Last Defense #5
Goal Line #6
Neutral Zone – A Harrisburg Railers Holiday Novella (11/25/18)
Hat Trick – A Harrisburg Railers Novella (14/2/2019)
>
Owatonna U. Hockey Trilogy - Coauthored with RJ Scott
Ryker #1
Scott #2 (3/27/19)
Benoit #3 (5/29/19)
M/F Releases
To Love a Wildcat
Pink Pucks & Power Plays #1
A Most Unlikely Countess #2
O Captain! My Captain! #3
Reality Check #4
Language of Love #5
Final Shifts #6
Venom
Clean Sweep #1
Twirly Girl #2
Tape to Tape #3
Angle Play #4
Flow #5
Blueline #6
Roster Addition (A To Love a Wildcat novella)
About V.L. Locey
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
Pinterest :: Goodreads :: V.L.’s blog
Website | Email
Lily Harlem - Red-Hot Trouble
Hot Ice Series
Sophia Delaney never intended to walk into ‘that’ locker room, at ‘that’ moment, but she did, and now she’ll never be the same again.
Author’s Note
Dear reader, I hope you enjoy this short story which is a spin-off from my seven novel HOT ICE series. Each book in the series is packed full of romance, steamy encounters, and is suspenseful, drama-fuelled, and not to be missed if you’re a fan of hot hockey.
The Vipers are very close to my heart, and although you’ll briefly meet a few of the players in RED-HOT TROUBLE, to really get down and dirty with them, you’ll have to read their individual stories which are obviously more intricate than this one owing to word length limits in a boxed set of this nature.
All books in the HOT ICE series are fine as standalone reads, though if you read them in order, you’ll get to meet the hero of the next book as you go along. All are available on Kindle Unlimited. HIGH-STICKED is the only M/M, TEAMWORK is ménage a trois, the rest are MALE/FEMALE.
Sign up to my newsletter to get book #1 HIRED for free and kick-start the fun, or grab the first three novels in the series for a bargain price in a bundle set. More details at the end of RED-HOT TROUBLE so keep on reading!
Chapter One
I would never have pictured myself at The Orlando Vipers’ home stadium on the Friday night before Christmas, but here I was standing in the front row, listening to the roar of the crowd, inhaling the scent of corn dogs, and wincing as bodies barged into the Plexi.
I suppressed a yawn. It had been a long day.
My twin, Benjamin, was a mad hockey fan and currently a rink-side medic for big games. Trouble was, he’d double-booked.
And not any old double-booking, he’d clashed his rota with his honeymoon.
Which was why I’d stepped into his shoes. He was lucky I could. I had the same medical degree as he had.
“Not long now, Dr. Delaney,” one of the coaches called to me. “Then you can go home.”
Damn it, had I really looked so bored?
“Thanks.” I glanced at the scoreboard. Five minutes left of play.
“And The Vipers are onto a winner here, if they can just hold it together,” the commentator in my earpiece shouted. “This has shades of last year’s Stanley Cup triumph. And there goes Phoenix, he’s on top form lately. He’s unstoppable. But here comes the defense. Can he get round it…no…but he’s spun it and passed. A beautiful side curve to Brick. This pair are unstoppable.” There was a pause. “And now to Nathan Walker; they don’t call him The Flash for nothing, he’s moving like the wind, and…it’s in!”
The crowd erupted as the puck hit the back of the net and the away team goalie slid forward with his stick clattering from his hand.
Nathan Walker, or The Flash, was quickly surrounded by his teammates. They slapped him on the back, bumped gloved knuckles with his, and knocked his helmet with their own.
“And it’s a magnificent goal by Nathan Walker. Holy moly, it doesn’t get any better than this. His winning streak is clearly not over yet.”
The coach at my side, and the team’s owner, were on their feet, air punching and grinning broadly.
I stood to show my support.
Thumping music filled the air. The Viper’s mascot—a big green alligator dressed in a Santa suit—was throwing sweets into the crowd. The away team, dressed in black, matched their colors with their mood.
Quickly play resumed. It made me dizzy watching the puck, so instead I concentrated on The Flash. He appeared to be the man of the game, and not just this one with the frequent references to his winning streak.
He was tall and broad in his gear, through his caged helmet dark stubble was evident, and the way he moved his big bulk around so gracefully was mesmerizing.
Suddenly he was heading my way, puck neatly tucked in the crook of his stick.
Out of nowhere another player, in black, barged into him. Their huge bodies slammed together, their skates clashed, and both sticks and the puck flew into the air.
Then The Flash was pressed up against the Plexi. The whole section shook and appeared to strain under his weight.
I gasped and stepped back, my legs hitting the chair behind me and my earpiece falling out. Adrenaline surged into my system. Was he going to come through the thing?
But as soon as he was there, he was gone. He’d slid downward and hit the ice, hard.
The officials were around him. The other player involved in the collision stood, retrieved his stick, and skated off adjusting his shoulder pads.
I rushed to the rink edge. He was down, not moving, with his helmet at an angle.
“Damn it.” He’d had one heck of a collision. If his head gear hadn’t protected his skull, there could be serious consequences.
The coach to my left urged me to the door in the Plexi so I could get to the ice.
“Here,” he said. “Hold on to me.”
“Thanks.” I’d never been a skater, but luckily my supine patient was only a few yards away.
I kneeled next to him, keen to see if there was obvious damage. The cold seeped onto my knees, and my breath plumed in front of me.
His eyes were closed. He remained unmoving.
“What’s up with him?” the coach asked.
Before I could answer, Nathan Walker opened his eyes and stared up at me. His irises were a stunning shade of blue, his pupils large and luckily equal and his lashes long and dark.
His mouth stretched into a grin. “Have I died and gone to Heaven?”
“Keep still,” I said, concerned about his skull and neck.
“Keep still? I’ve got a few more points to score yet, sweetpea.”
“I’m not a sweetpea, I’m the rink medic, now stay there.”
“No can do.” He blinked several times, then opened his mouth wide and clicked his jaw. “The clock waits for no one.”
“I really think you should…”
He held his palm up and sat.
“You should listen to the doc.” The coach at my side wrung his hands together. “She knows best.”
“If we were losing, Coach, you’d have me up already. Just ’cause we’re points ahead, doesn’t mean we can slack.”
“We have Vadim on the bench.”
“I’m finishing this.” There was a note of steel in Nathan’s tone. It was clear he wouldn’t be dissuaded.
“Well, be careful until I can do a proper exam,” I said as I stood, gripping the coach’s arm. “And get that helmet replaced; it’s probably damaged after that hit.”
“Right you are, sweetpea.”
“And don’t call me…”
A
fine spray of ice landed on my lower pant legs and shoes, and he was gone, halfway across the rink in a nanosecond.
“Come on,” the coach said, tugging me. “We don’t want to be in the middle of this lot in another five seconds.”
The officials were swarming, the teams resuming their positions.
I’d just made it off the ice when several players raced over the spot I’d previously been standing in. The puck was the center of a battle of sticks. The team’s captain, Rick ‘Ramrod’ Lewis, and Nathan Walker were taking on two opponents with grim determination.
Within seconds another point was scored. I missed it, as I was looking for my earpiece, but it had been Walker again. His name flashed on the screen, and the crowd behind me were chanting “The Flash, The Flash. No one gets past The Flash.”
How can he be practically comatose one second, then performing as one of the best in the league the next?
Much as I disapproved of his decision not to get checked out medically, I had to admire his skill. He was at the top of his profession and keen to stay there. I knew what that felt like. I’d been working on getting to the top of mine for the last decade and had no intention of letting it slide.
But still, after the game I’d perform a few basic reflex tests and look in his eyes to make sure everything was in order. And if I found anything I wasn’t happy with, he’d be headed for the scanner before he could say National Hockey League.
After a few more minutes of on-ice mayhem, the final buzzer went.
The mascot scooted out, waving his arms and working the home crowd into a frenzy of delight over their win.
The crowd’s roar was one long continuous bellow, almost drowning out the sound of Slade’s Merry Christmas Everybody blasting through the speakers. Flags waved, hooters honked. The Vipers’ coaches rushed onto the ice, joining in the celebrations.