by Teagan Kade
Dimitri lowers his voice, leaning across to my shoulder. “They’re tightening security around here. We’re not to be seen with anyone from the other teams.”
“The Americans?”
“Especially the Americans.”
“For all intents and purposes,” continues Dimitri, “we’re being locked down.”
We’ll see about that, I think.
*
Helena soundly asleep, I call Liam from the bathroom. It was made clear during the team meeting that all cell phones and sources of communication were to be handed in, but I dutifully ignored the request. Let them try and take it from me.
“Hello,” Liam answers.
“Hello to you."
“I take it you made it back to your accommodation without incident then last night?” I ask.
He laughs. “I did, and you? Given you’re still here I can only assume the same. One day,” he tells me, “once I recover from the sheer humiliation, I will tell you the full story.”
“You did look awfully cute wrapped up in that sheet.”
“I didn’t have it for long, put it that way.”
“And now?” I ask.
“Now I’m lying in bed by myself thinking about you and your… talents.”
I bite my lower lip, the cell phone hot against the side of my face. “You have talents of your own, it would seem.”
“You have no idea,” he replies.
“Don’t tell me you’re a closet figure skater.”
“Actually…”
I push off the vanity. “Wait, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he continues, “I might have done a little figure skating when I was younger.”
“A little?”
“Okay, so it was ten years’ worth, but I’ll die before getting into one of those costumes again.”
I laugh aloud thinking about how Liam would look dressed up for show, maybe tights and a flowing top a la Christopher Dean circa 1984. It would be quite the departure from his ice hockey get-up. “Were you any good?” I question.
“I won a few comps, but I keep it quiet, you know. I wouldn’t want that kind of information, or those tapes, to get out.”
I can’t hold back my excitement. “There are tapes?”
“Tapes I’m keeping under lock and key, never to see the light of day.”
“So why not throw them away?”
There’s a pause.
“Ah,” I say, “so you’re proud of performances.”
“I can neither confirm or deny. And you,” he says, changing the subject, “what made you take up figure skating?”
It’s an interesting question. I never really had a choice in the matter. The State selected me because I had the required athletic make-up and simply put me to work, partnering me up with Dimitri, another orphan. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy skating. The freedom, the escape it offers are a rich reward in a country like Russia.
“I’m not sure,” I reply, “but I love it.”
“As much as you love being with me?” he asks timidly.
Love—Is that what I’m feeling? Again, I haven’t allowed myself to unbox my feelings, too caught up in the sex, but if it was only sex, I’d be done with Liam McCallum by now.
No, there is more to it.
There is more to come.
“I love how you make me feel,” I respond, looking at myself in the mirror, at the glow around my face that wasn’t there before these Games.
“You haven’t felt anything yet, trust me.”
“Should I? Should I trust an American?” I tease
“Liam?” I ask, met with silence.
“I’ve to go,” he says. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Okay,” I reply. “I’ll call back later.”
And the dead ringtone that follows is quite possibly the saddest sound I’ve ever heard.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIAM
Compared to his usual digs back home, the Coach’s office here in the American quarters is tiny. There’s barely enough room for the two of us as I sit in front of him.
“Do you know why you’re here, McCallum?” he asks.
“Not a clue,” I reply, and it’s true. I have no idea what this summoning is for. I assume it’s related to strategy, perhaps one of the other players?
“The South Koreans showed me some disturbing footage from their security cameras last night, footage all the eye bleach in the world isn’t going to help me wash away. Care to take a guess what this footage might be?”
Oh, fuck.
“Coach,” I begin. “Let me explain. I just went out for a simple wa—”
“Shut your piehole, McCallum. I don’t want excuses. I’m too fucking tired and too stressed out for your fratboy bullshit right now, and this from the Captain of the god-damn American Ice Hockey Team? I mean, are you fucking kidding me? You should thank your lucky stars the Koreans are keeping this nice and quiet, to be dealt with ‘in house,’ they told me. I almost wanted to kick your ass out of here myself, and those poor New Zealand girls… Baby Jesus they will never forget that now, will they? Your cock is going to haunt them for life.”
I look down, all I can do to stop myself cracking up.
“You think it’s fucking funny?!” Coach bellows. The whole village probably heard it.
“No, Coach. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t, because I’m going to train you into the fucking ground today, McCallum. If it kills you, so be it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Coach.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “God help us.”
*
If Coach was harsh in training before, today he brings Armageddon itself upon us. I’m lying on my bed back in the room trying to recover. Muscles I didn’t even know I had hurt. Paul’s snoring soundly beside me, completely asleep.
My cell rings beside the bed. It’s Viktoriya again.
“Well?” she asks. “What happened?”
“Coach happened, is what. Suffice to say, I’ve been punished accordingly.”
“Poor little boy,” she pouts sarcastically. “Do you need me to come over and make it all better?”
I laugh back. “That would be incredible, actually, but good luck getting into Fort Knox.”
“Are you saying I can’t do it?” she taunts, defiance in her voice.
“I’m saying my roommate is dead to the world and I’m about to join him. I’m going to have a nice, long shower thinking about those perfect curves of yours, because given the lockdown up here, that’s as close as we’re getting right now.”
“Challenge accepted,” she purrs, and hangs up.
I look down at my cell. “Well, okay then.”
I look over at Paul, but there’s nothing waking him expect a missile attack.
I notice it’s snowing outside as I strip down and step into the bathroom, turning the shower on full and letting the room fill with steam. I open and close my hand, speaking down to it. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, old friend.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VIKTORIYA
It wasn’t easy to get over to Liam’s building, even harder to find a way to his room, but I’ve managed to pull it off.
Just as he said, his roommate and fellow team member Paul is fast asleep in his bed. Steam is clouding out from the bathroom, which means I’ve arrived just in the nick of time.
I enter the bathroom quietly trying hard to contain my excitement. Liam is in the shower, water streaming over his back. He’s facing away from me with one hand against the wall, his head hung.
Damn, that is one good-looking ass.
And it’s mine, all mine.
I strip as quietly as I can and open the door without a sound, stepping into the mist and steam. I press myself against Liam’s back and reach around for his cock, happy to find it hard.
Liam spins in shock, his eyes wide. “Viktoriya?”
His eyes dart to the ba
throom door. “Don’t worry,” I tell him, starting to stroke him, “your roommate is still asleep.”
“But, how the hell…. You’re not a KGB agent or something, are you? Sent here to seduce me and make me spill state secrets.”
I firm my grip and start to stroke his member harder. “I don’t know about state secrets, but I can help you spill something else.”
He kisses me, hard and quick and dangerous, breaking away and shaking his head. “You are full of surprises, Viktoriya Kuznetsov. I thought I liked taking risks…”
Still holding his cock, I get down on my knees in front of him. “Quiet now. Let me help you relax.”
I don’t know if I’ve ever been this excited to give a blowjob.
I flick my gaze up to him, taking the head of his cock into my mouth. His muscles flex when my lips close over him, my tongue running along the underside of his glans so silken smooth no metaphor could do them justice.
He breathes out and places a hand against the door to steady himself, the steam floating around us. I watch him eagerly, weighing his heavy balls with my hand as I attempt to take in more of his length.
He looks down, mesmerized by the way his member darts in and out of my cherry lips.
I moan around him, relish providing him this pleasure, a growl in my throat sending tiny vibrations ringing up his shaft.
He pumps his hips against my face, reaching down to hold the top of my head, working me against him until I’ve taken almost his full length.
I place my hands on his thighs and let my nails bite into the skin there, all the while sucking and drawing him deeper, laving his shaft with the flat of my tongue.
He jerks, face deep in concentration. I let his cock free and swirl my tongue around the bulb-like head of it, pausing once again to press it against his glans.
He’s loving every moment of this. I don’t need to look at him to know, his body gives it away.
My hair is wet against my back, water running around the root of his cock as I take hold of it again and work my hand roughly up and down, drawing him into my mouth, increasing the suction until he’s panting hard, wincing to restrain himself.
I like this power I have over him, the bad boy of the ice hockey rink putty in my hands.
With my hand, I press off his thigh for leverage, swatting away his own when he tries to push me back, to prolong the pleasure.
But I want his release. I want to taste it and feel it and make him mine.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LIAM
I am spellbound by Viktoriya’s eyes, the way she watches me as her lips roll over my organ, the powerful suction action that follows. I tilt my hips and push further into her mouth. She lets her lips rise just enough so that her teeth graze across the top of my shaft. A burning shot of arousal shoots right to the tender tip of my cock.
God, I want her so badly. I want to bury myself so deep inside her, but she won’t allow me, holding me firm in position with her hand and mouth.
She pumps me harder, has all the control in this situation. The hot water on my skin, the velvety inside of her mouth—I won’t be able to hold off for much longer. If Paul walks in now he’s going to get the shock of his fucking life.
My cock pops out glistening from Viktoriya’s mouth. She pumps me over her cheek, her golden eyes turned upwards, watching me, her raven hair a single arrowhead down her back.
Her tongue comes out and licks upwards against my balls. She gently sucks them into her mouth, rolling them around inside the warm cavern, letting them sit on the spongey surface of her tongue while I buck and grimace.
I’m doing everything to remain quiet, but this is turning me on too much. I groan aloud, my voice lost against the streaming shower.
She takes me back inside her mouth and I hump lightly against the ripples on the inside of her cheek.
The sensation and need build, pulling at my core.
I can feel her jaw moving, opening up as she takes my length right down her throat. She keeps going until she’s swallowed all of me, her lips clenched around the root of my cock.
I no longer care about Paul waking up, or how Viktoriya even got here. All I want is to get off.
I buck harder against her, groaning for release.
I hold her hair with one hand, forced to steady myself against the glass with the other knowing I’m beyond the point of return.
She knows I’m close, but she refuses to break eye contact, jerking and sucking me harder and faster, growing completely wild.
“I’m coming,” I announce.
I expect her to pull away, but her lips remained glued to my cock.
I grunt and release, pumping fiercely into her mouth. She swallows fast, the muscles in her throat constricting against me as she takes my load.
Finally, she pulls away, gasping and flushed, a pearl of cum on her parted lips. She licks it away, my cock falling from her hand.
I can barely stand as she rises and kisses me, the salty aftermath of my desire still on her lips, her eyes hypnotic.
“Now,” she says, “do you feel better?”
FOURTEEN DAYS LATER
I came to the Winter Games for Olympic Gold. I wasn’t expecting to find love along the way, but Viktoriya has consumed me—completely taken over my body and soul. Even now, walking to the gym at 2AM, I’m fucking floating. Given how she performs on the ice, I should have expected nothing less in the bedroom. If medals were being handed out for sexual prowess, she’d take gold hands down. Her stamina, her flexibility… She’s my match in every way.
It’s more than the sex, though, incredible as it is. When I’m with Viktoriya, I’m empowered. I want to be my best. I want to be better, and I know I can. I’m not imagining it. She makes me feel that way.
Professionally, in between our sexual escapades, we’re kicking ass. My team’s into the final with Russia. I’m looking forward to crushing Bogdan’s bitches. Viktoriya and Daniel, too, are flying high, sailing into the figure-skating pairs final with ease. Watching her on the ice, I’m spellbound. She deserves all this success and more.
I’m grinning ear to ear as I enter the small gym at the bottom of our apartment block. Most athletes are in bed by nine, but I’ve always been a night owl. As I expect, the gym’s dead quiet.
I toss my towel over a bench and select a set of dumbbells, curling my biceps as I watch myself in the mirror. Sure, it’s a little vain, but given the work I’ve put into this body, I think it’s more than justified. Besides, it helps me improve my technique and posture.
After four sets of reps I’ve started to build up a sweat, the ache extending to my pelvis thanks to tonight’s other nocturnal activities. Soon we’re going to run out of places to hide.
I smile at myself in the mirror. You’re in deep, brother. You’re in deep and you know it.
I see the door to the gym open in the mirror, a group of jumpsuit-wearing Russians entering. And—surprise, fucking surprise—it’s Bogdan and his boys.
I keep curling, smiling as they come around in front of me. I notice they’ve brought their hockey sticks, but I won’t let these cocksuckers intimidate me. “Look, guys,” I start, “I appreciate the offer to join in your late-night gang bang, but I’m afraid I don’t swing that way.”
Bogdan laughs and crouches down in front of me. “Oh, I know, Yankee. I’ve seen you swing before.”
If he’s referring to our meet-and-greet back in Seoul, I’d happily provide him with a five-finger update, wipe that dirty fucking smirk off his ugly fucking face.
I place the dumbbells down, leaning forward to speak. “Did you come down here to talk about my dick or you got something else to say?”
Bogdan looks to the others. They’re standing there like the East Block Backstreet Boys. He says something in Russian, which elicits a hearty laugh. One of his cronies hands him a hockey stick. I can’t imagine it’s for a midnight practice session.
Bogdan chews on his tongue. “I thought I was clear, Yankee.”
; I cup my ear. “About what? I don’t speak in Russian riddles.”
Bogdan nods. “Okay. I’ll make it clearer given you’re so… simple. I told you to stay away from her, and what do you do? You fuck her, fuck with your filthy American cock.”
“Ah,” I nod back in understanding, “so you’re upset because I’m getting some and you’re not?” I jerk my head to the others. “You’ve got plenty of pretty boys to choose from.”
Bogdan smiles. “Oh, I’m going to fuck someone tonight alright.”
He whips the stick into my ribs hard, too fast to block.
I wince and draw back, but the next blow manages to knock me off the bench altogether. It hurts like a motherfucker.
I look to the roof for the security camera, but one of Bogdan’s boys is covering it with his hand.
Bogdan laughs, standing and gripping the stick, testing his swing. “No one to help you, Yankee. You can scream like a little girl if you want. We understand.”
I laugh. “You are fucking dead. You know that?”
He brings the stick down hard on my knee. “I’m sorry?”
I bring my hands to it, grunting in agony. The fucker’s got a decent slap shot if nothing else.
This is turning into a problem, and fast. I can’t take an injury right now, not before the final.
I go to grab a dumbbell, but Bogdan kicks it away before I get to it, striking me again in the same knee.
“Fuck you!” I shout, loud enough to be heard outside the room.
He just keeps laughing. “That’s the spirit, Yankee!”
The next blow does it, sending a hot bolt of pain shooting up my leg.
I shake my head, sweating hard. “You’re going to pay for this.”
Bogdan looks to the others. “No, you’re going to pay for this, Yankee… with gold.”
“Uh,” I grunt again, as he strikes me harder still, my knee nothing but a hash of pain and torment. “Fuck. You!” I shout, spittle flying from my mouth.
I brace myself for another blow, have no idea how long they’re going to keep this up. I’ve taken beatings before, but they weren’t from a soviet block of concrete like this asshole.