Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by A. E. Wasp

  “If you say it happens to everyone, I’m going to beat you.”

  Robbie dropped one leg to the floor and patted the space between his legs on the bench. “Sit with me. Check out the view. It’s a beautiful day, and we have nowhere to be for a couple of hours.”

  It was a tight fit with two big guys, but Paul managed to squeeze between Robbie’s legs, his back against Robbie’s chest.

  Paul leaned his head onto Robbie’s shoulder and sighed as Robbie wrapped his arms around him.

  “So, I found this old BSU T-shirt in your drawer. Looks like I’m not the only one who keeps things.” He kissed Paul’s temple.

  “It’s very soft,” Paul said. “Seemed a shame to get rid of it.”

  “Um-hm.” With long, smooth strokes, Robbie caressed Paul everywhere he could reach; down the outside of his legs, up his inner thighs and up to his chest. Nudging Paul’s head with his chin, Robbie kissed and nipped at Paul’s neck.

  His hands left trails of goosebumps in their wake, and Paul shivered at the feel of Robbie’s lips on his skin. Though he avoided touching Paul’s dick directly, it seemed much more interested than it had been in a more direct approach last night.

  Paul squirmed as Robbie bit a little harder than he had been doing. “I don’t think you’re enjoying the view,” he said, smiling.

  Robbie hooked his chin over Paul’s shoulder and looked along the length of his body. “I like the view a lot.”

  “Kiss me more,” Paul demanded, reaching back for Robbie’s head.

  “Bossy,” Robbie said with faux annoyance, but he went back to driving Paul crazy with his lips, tongue, and teeth. He sucked gently on the thin skin under Paul’s chin, then giving it a sharp nip, pulled off.

  “Fuck,” Paul whispered with a small shudder.

  Robbie pulled Paul more tightly against him. Paul felt Robbie’s cock grow firmer.

  “When this season’s over,” Robbie growled softly into his ear. “I’m going to leave so many marks all over you; you won’t be able to leave the house.” He punctuated his words with a press of his hand over Paul’s definitely interested dick.

  Paul groaned and arched against Robbie.

  “I’m crazy about you, you know,” he said, sliding his hands under Paul’s sweatpants. His hands traced the same path they had been, down the outside of his legs, then across and up the inner thigh. But now there was the bite of Robbie’s fingernails dragging up the tender skin, and his fingers caressed Paul’s balls and trailed lightly up his cock.

  Paul gripped Robbie’s legs. He knew the strength in those wide thighs, and he loved being trapped between them.

  “You have terrible taste in men, then,” Paul said breathlessly.

  Robbie pushed Paul’s T-shirt up with both hands. “Off?” he asked.

  Paul leaned forward to pull his shirt off. Behind him, he felt Robbie doing the same thing.

  The feel of skin on skin when he leaned back against Robbie was glorious.

  He closed his eyes to better focus on all the places Robbie was touching him. They were both hard and breathing heavily, but there was no sense of urgency to their movements.

  The sun fell on his chest and face like a second caress. When he opened his eyes, he could see people walking on the sidewalk below them.

  He knew the privacy tint prevented them from seeing in, but he let himself imagine they could. That they could look up and see how beautiful they were together; see Paul brazenly letting another man touch him in front of God and the whole world.

  If only. Robbie deserved someone who could do that for him. Well, maybe not this exactly, but someone who would at least hold hands with him in public, kiss him in broad daylight, and introduce him to his family.

  Paul was never going to be that person.

  Beneath his sweatpants, Robbie pumped his fist gently up and down Paul’s cock, coaxing it to harden further.

  Paul gave a quiet exhalation with every down stroke. “God, that feels so good.”

  “You feel good,” Robbie said.

  “Harder,” Paul begged, suddenly filled with a need for that crazy urgency Robbie could stir in him. “Make me feel good. Make me stop thinking.”

  Robbie wrenched Paul’s head around, kissing him hard, taking possession of his mouth. They were both panting when Robbie pulled away.

  He slid one hand up Paul’s neck, tilting his chin to the ceiling as his fingers closed gently but firmly over Paul’s throat. With the other hand, he reached for Paul’s cock, stroking him hard and fast until Paul whined desperately, pulse beating against Robbie’s fingertips, breath reedy as it strained to get past Robbie’s grip.

  “Downstairs. Bedroom.” Robbie growled. “I need you to fuck me.”

  “Yes,” Paul gasped as Robbie released him. “God. Yes. Please.”

  With all the curtains drawn, the bedroom was a dim cave compared to the windowed solarium. By the time Paul’s eyes had adjusted, he was flat on his back with Robbie straddling him, a heavy weight across his thighs. His ass cradled Paul’s dick, the heat of him branding Paul’s skin.

  Paul fumbled for the lube and condoms. They hadn’t done this very often. Paul found the sensation of being inside Robbie almost frightening in its intensity. Many times, he’d wondered if he would survive Robbie fucking him. One day, he promised himself. One day.

  “I want to feel you, all of you,” Robbie said, flipping the condom over and over. “You know we’re both clean.”

  He did. They’d been tested for everything under the sun before the start of the season. On top of that, Paul had been basically a virgin before being with Robbie.

  Robbie rocked against Paul, and Paul’s eyes rolled at the thought of slipping bare into that silken heat. His fingertips bit into Robbie’s legs. “Oh, yes, please. Please.” Those seemed to be the only words his brain could form. Yes. Please. Whatever the question, the answer was yes, please.

  Robbie gasped as he slid a lube-slicked finger into himself. Rocking back onto his hand, he moaned softly.

  Paul wanted to do that for him, but he couldn’t move, pinned to the bed by Robbie’s weight and the knowledge of what they were about to do. Again.

  “You like me like this?” Robbie asked. “Riding you?”

  Yes, please. Paul nodded, already beyond words.

  Paul watched silently as Robbie prepped himself, the little grunts and moans and the obscene squelching sound making his dick jerk against the air. He gripped Robbie’s thighs, trying to keep his hips from thrusting.

  “Please,” he groaned. “Robbie. Please.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Okay.” Robbie squirted some lube into his hand, then tossed the lube onto the floor. Reaching behind him, he flailed for Paul’s cock.

  Paul shouted as his fingers wrapped around it, slicking him up rough and quickly. “Careful. God, I’m so close.” It was embarrassing how quickly Robbie could reduce him to a quivering pile of need.

  Robbie didn’t laugh at him, though. He bent forward, bracing himself with a hand on Paul’s chest as he quickly jerked himself until his breath caught with a hitch.

  “Fuck me, please. Please,” Paul chanted shamelessly, face flaming as the words burned like hellfire on his lips. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  Biting his bottom lip, Robbie grabbed Paul’s cock and held it as he positioned himself. Staring into Paul’s eyes, he slid down Paul inch by halting inch.

  “Oh, my God,” he groaned as Paul filled him. “You’re so fucking big. Holy fuck, it feels so good like this. So, so good.”

  Paul screwed his eyes shut, needing every ounce of concentration to keep from coming as soon as Robbie took all of him. Every muscle in his body drew tight as a bowstring.

  “I have to move,” Robbie said, voice drawn. Without waiting for a response, he pushed himself slowly up onto his knees. He hovered there, with Paul barely inside him, before sliding down as slowly. “Oh, my fucking God,” he moaned.

  Paul’s breathing was strangled. He knew it would feel different with no
barrier between them, but this was almost too much to bear. Blood throbbed in his temples, and his heart pounded in his chest.

  He yanked Robbie down as he thrust up, trying to get closer than humanly possible. Robbie yelled. He leaned back, hands resting on Paul’s thighs as he thrust his hips faster and faster, chanting oh God oh God with every down stroke.

  “Harder,” he begged. “Harder.”

  Paul groaned. He was so close, but he hung on the edge. He needed something, something more. With a growl, he pulled Robbie down to him and rolled them until he lay on top of Robbie.

  “Oh, fuck, yeah,” Robbie yelled as Paul thrust deep into him.” “Fuck me, fuck me harder. God.” He clamped his legs to Paul’s side, knees up by Paul’s shoulders, hands gripping the bed covering so tightly his knuckles turned white.

  Paul struggled to his knees, dragging Robbie up his thighs as he did.

  He slammed into Robbie over and over, drawing ragged, high-pitched gasps from Robbie with each thrust.

  His balls pulled painfully tight against his body and his orgasm barreled towards him like a freight train. “I’m gonna come,” he warned Robbie with a gasp. “Gonna—” His words cut off as his muscles clenched and he came harder than ever. He convulsed with each pulse that Robbie’s body yanked out of him.

  Distantly, he registered Robbie’s yell as he came, too, back arching off the bed as he shot up his chest, white streaks spraying wildly as his cock jerked.

  Paul collapsed like a puppet with cut strings as his muscles turned to mush. He landed heavily on top of Robbie, trapping his still jerking cock between them.

  Robbie’s high-pitched moans filled his ears, and Robbie’s fingernails dug into the skin of Paul’s back.

  Robbie hissed as Paul slid out of him. With a deep groan, Paul rolled onto his back next to Robbie.

  “Holy shit,” Robbie said reverently. He clapped a hand dramatically against his heart. “I thought I was gonna have a stroke.”

  Paul laughed weakly, body not fully under his control.

  “No, seriously,” Robbie laughed, grabbing for Paul’s hand and pulling it onto his chest. “Feel. Feel what you did to me.”

  His heart was pounding hard, matching the rhythm Paul felt in his own chest.

  The shrill squall of music blasting from crappy phone speakers made Paul jump. He rolled onto his side, reaching for the phone.

  “Let it go to voicemail,” Robbie said. “It’s too early.”

  “It’s after eleven,” Paul said chuckling.

  “And my day off,” Robbie whined, rolling onto his side and pressing his sticky, sweaty body against Paul’s back.

  “Oh, gross,” Paul said, reaching back in a futile attempt to push Robbie off. Robbie just laughed and wrapped himself around Paul like a baby monkey.

  Squinting at the phone, Paul could make out an unfamiliar number with a very familiar area code. Huntsville, Alabama. Wondering briefly who it could be, Paul answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Paul,” said the last person he’d ever expected to be on the phone.

  Paul bolted upright.

  “Hey,” Robbie bitched. “Who is it? If it’s one of the guys, tell them we’re dead.”

  Heart in his throat, Paul hit Robbie harder than he meant to in order to make him shut up.

  “What the hell?” Robbie sat up, rubbing his arm and trying to see who Paul was talking to.

  “Is there someone with you, Paul?” Pastor Ruebens asked. Pastor Ruebens! Fuck. “Am I interrupting something?”

  32

  Robbie

  “No, sir, Pastor Ruebens. I was just resting up.” Glaring at Robbie, he stressed the word pastor. Shut up, he signed at the same time.

  Oh, fuck no. Robbie wasn’t going to let Paul talk to those brainwashing bastards alone.

  Put him on speaker, Robbie signed.

  No way, Paul mouthed.

  They argued silently while the pastor presumably told Paul how many ways he was going to hell.

  Finally, Robbie threatened to start saying very inappropriate things very loudly if Paul didn’t put the fucking phone on speaker.

  Glaring daggers at Robbie, Paul grudgingly gave in.

  “I’m sorry, Pastor Ruebens, my phone cut out for a second. Can you repeat that?”

  The instant the guy opened his mouth, Robbie hated him. He sounded condescending, sanctimonious, and officious. Oh, hey, look at him with the big words. All that studying must have paid off. His reading teachers would be so proud.

  “Well, son, the Church is concerned about you and the state of your soul. Some of our younger parishioners have brought several disturbing things to our attention.”

  Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuckity, fuck.

  All the blood rushed from Paul’s face, and Robbie was convinced he was going to puke. He shoved the bedroom trashcan between Paul’s feet, then went into the bathroom.

  Even as a natural-born atheist, he felt weird listening to this pastor guy talk while he could feel Paul’s come sliding down his thigh. Paul must be dying.

  So much for the afterglow.

  He shut the door, so he wouldn’t be heard and cleaned up quickly, cursing the pastor and organized religion in general for taking such an amazing thing and making it dirty and wrong.

  To his surprise, tears sprang to his eyes and his throat tightened. Damn it. He’d gone from cloud nine to this.

  He wanted to punch someone. Preferably ‘Pastor Ruebens.’ Asshole.

  Robbie rubbed his tears away and splashed some water on his face.

  He came out of the bathroom with a glass of water and warm washrag just in time to hear Paul insisting to Pastor Douchebag that he wasn’t gay.

  Funny, considering his dick had been in Robbie’s ass not ten minutes ago. That seemed pretty gay.

  For some reason, Paul still had the guy on speaker phone.

  “What about the other young man you’ve been seen with?” the windbag asked. “Robert Rhodes? There are some fairly long-standing and credible rumors concerning his sexuality.”

  Robbie tossed Paul the washrag, set the glass down on the nightstand, and flipped the guy on the phone the bird.

  How? What? Paul signed barely coherently.

  Say yes and fuck off, Robbie replied.

  Paul frowned and shook his head. “You would have to ask him that yourself, sir.” Paul wiped himself down quickly, then picked up his sweatpants off the floor and slid them on.

  Without looking back at Robbie, he picked up the phone and walked away. Robbie didn’t hear Pastor Douchebag anymore, so Paul must have taken him off speaker. Paul shut the bedroom door behind him as he left.

  Good, now Robbie could slam the dresser drawers as loudly as he wanted as he dug through them trying to find some of the many jeans and a T-shirt he knew he’d left here.

  Oh, great, he thought as his hand landed on the pair of green boxer briefs Paul had made him buy in Detroit. Gritting his teeth, Robbie pulled them slowly out of the drawer.

  Clenching them in his fist, he dropped heavily to the end of the bed. Maybe he was the dick now. After all, did he really expect Paul to out himself so soon to the very same people who had been telling him he was evil his whole life?

  No. That was too much to expect.

  Still naked and sticky, Robbie dropped his head to his hands and tried to pull himself together. A shower, he decided. Then another cup of coffee, and he would talk to Paul. Help him deal with whatever this phone call was doing to him.

  After all, they loved each other. They could work through this. And eventually, when Paul was ready, they’d come out as a couple.

  To everyone? a little voice in Robbie’s head asked. Publicly? On the cover of Sports Illustrated? The voice sounded a lot like the ghost of his ex-boyfriend, Drew.

  Shut up, brain-ghost Drew. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

  Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, he felt much more under control. Taking a deep
breath, he pushed the door open and went to find Paul.

  He found him pacing the kitchen, hair wild from running his fingers through it. He was still on the damn phone. When he looked up, Robbie could see tear tracks on his face.

  Goddamn it. So much for Robbie’s Zen.

  Paul stopped, covered his mouth with his hand, inhaled deeply and dropped his hand. “Is this an official admonition then?” His voice wavered.

  Everything in Robbie wanted to go to Paul and pull him into his arms. He took a step forward, and Paul looked at him with alarm. Robbie’s eyes widened as Paul actually took a step back.

  You’ve got to be kidding me, he thought. Robbie shoved his hands deep into his pockets before he could sign something cruel.

  Ignoring Paul as much as he could, Robbie made himself a second cup of coffee and grabbed a banana.

  Paul looked at him in alarm as he stomped out of the kitchen, only exhaling when Robbie headed for the stairs to the sunroom instead of storming out the front door. Like he would do that to Paul. He wasn’t going to leave him alone and traumatized. Despite whatever bullshit Ruebens was pouring into Paul’s ear, gay didn’t equal evil. He was a human being, for fuck’s sake.

  Ugh. Robbie threw himself on the same window seat he’d been sitting on earlier in the morning. It felt like a hundred years ago.

  Paul’s hand gently shaking him brought Robbie back to consciousness.

  Paul’s hair was wet, and he smelled like the ridiculously expensive body wash he used. Robbie teased him mercilessly about it, and liked to replace it with Axe Body Wash when Paul wasn’t looking. Truthfully, it made Paul smell edible, and his skin as silky soft as the copy on the bottle promised.

  “You showered?” Robbie asked inanely.

  “Yeah.”

  Paul still looked drawn. The shower hadn’t done anything to make his eyes any less red-rimmed from crying, and he was still pale.

  Robbie scooted over so Paul could sit next to him. When Paul didn’t move, Robbie patted the seat next to him. “Sit, before you fall down. I’ll move, so I don’t get my gay cooties all over you.” Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that.