“I get it. I wish the same, but Patrick…”
We laughed together, and I briefly toyed with the idea of paying for our own room, but if Coach Keller found out, I’d be fired and Pax could be suspended.
The hallway was quiet, no one around. Pax stepped closer and put his hands on either side of my face, pinning me against the wall with his big body. My lips parted, waiting for his. He lowered his head and kissed me, brushing his lips gently across mine, then nudging my mouth open and deepening the kiss. I didn’t play coy with him. We both knew what we wanted, even if we wouldn’t get it tonight. I grasped the collar of his shirt and stood on tiptoes, pressing my body against his.
He groaned as I tortured him by rubbing myself against his hard length. “I fucking want you,” he growled into my mouth.
“I fucking want you, too,” I responded and wrapped one leg around his muscular thigh.
He cupped my breast through my blouse and squeezed, sending tendrils of desire racing through my veins. I climbed up his body, and he cupped my ass with one hand to hold me against him. I wrapped both legs around his waist, rubbing against him, wishing we didn’t have a barrier of clothes between us.
“Oh, fuck, Naomi.” His words were tortured and husky. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and ground my pelvis against his. I wanted him naked in the worst way.
“I want you.” I nipped at his earlobe. He liked that and rubbed his rough cheek against my lips. This man was my fire, and I was his oxygen. Being with him felt so right, so perfect. I saw the truth so clearly now that I wasn’t forcing myself to do what I thought I should do instead of what I wanted. And I wanted Pax. All of him. All the time. Every night. Because I was greedy like that. I’d have gladly let him do whatever he wanted to me in this hallway. I was that far gone, and I didn’t care who saw us.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Get a fucking room!” shrieked Kaitlyn from behind me. I hadn’t heard her open the door. Other doors up and down the hallway opened and bleary-eyed players peeked out.
Okay, maybe we did care. Paxton lowered me to the floor and grinned guilelessly.
Kaitlyn, in a pair of panda bear pj’s, perched her hands on her hips and glared at us from the open doorway. “You two are making enough noise to wake the dead. Either fucking get it over with or get your ass in the room.” She did not like to be woken up.
“Sorry.” Pax gave me one last lingering kiss and winked at both of us. “See you on the bus.”
He walked down the hallway, hands in his pockets, whistling to himself and waving to his eavesdropping teammates. I longingly watched him go until Kaitlyn grabbed my arm and yanked me in the room. She launched me toward the bed as she slammed the door behind us.
“What the fuck was that all about? You and Paxton?”
“How did you know that was Paxton?” I asked, avoiding her question.
“Two things, if that’d been Patrick, he’d have been fucking you in the hallway. And I know Paxton’s walk.”
“Paxton has a different walk than Patrick?”
“Of course he does.” Kaitlyn regarded me as if I were stupid or something. “He ambles. Patrick struts. You never noticed?”
“I’m usually too busy looking at that hockey ass to pay attention to his walk.”
“Well, there’s that, too.” Kaitlyn laughed. She went to the small bar fridge and pulled out a half-empty bottle of wine. “Want to join me?”
“I’d love to.” She filled two paper cups and handed one to me.
“Okay, spill. What’s going on? I want all the deets, the dirtier the details, the better.”
I told her about last night and tonight. She listened, finished off her wine, and poured herself another glass while topping off mine.
“Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Paxton playing better?”
“No, not at all. I’d have made the same choice if he was still struggling.”
One of Kaitlyn’s perfectly sculpted brows rose high up her forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I narrowed my eyes in annoyance. I didn’t like being questioned, especially by someone who was my friend and should have my back.
“I hope so because Pax doesn’t deserve to be jacked around. He gets it enough from his family.”
“I’m not jacking him around. I was honest with him. We’re going to date, see where this goes, but we didn’t make any promises. We don’t know what the future holds for any of us. He’s going pro at the end of the school year. I have another year left to finish school.”
“You think you’ll go your separate ways then?”
“Too early to make any long-term planning.”
I wasn’t able to wrap my head around anything longer than the next week or two. I wasn’t known to stick with one guy for long.
But Pax was different. He was my best friend, and he was the one I burned for every night and thought of every day.
He might just be the one.
24
First Date
Paxton
I was amazed how quickly my life had turned around in one short weekend. I was at the top of my game, and I had Naomi. The only way life got better than this would be if Patrick and I resolved our differences.
Naomi picked me up for our date early Sunday evening in her Tesla. I’d been in her car before, but I saw things differently now. Finances weren’t a problem for Naomi and most likely never had been. Yet she wasn’t spoiled or entitled, quite the opposite.
Patrick and I hadn’t been raised with money, and we worked all summer to pay for the extras our full-ride scholarships didn’t cover during the school year. Dad, being the ass that he was, always had a hard time keeping a job, and there’d never been any extra money. Currently, he worked as a house framer, but I wasn’t sure how long that’d last.
My bro and I pinched pennies to make it through every school year. I was better at budgeting than Patrick and often had to float him a loan, especially by the end of second semester.
Tonight, I went all out. I donned my best button-down shirt, one of my splurges last year, and a newer pair of jeans. The shirt was the same blue as my eyes, and Naomi had commented on how much she loved it before. I debated on wearing my one good pair of slacks, but I wasn’t a guy to dress up. She’d have to take me as I was.
I swished on a small bit of Patrick’s aftershave, and I was ready a half hour early. I used the time to walk a few blocks to a small gift store that sold cut flowers. I picked out a bouquet in oranges and golds, which the salesperson dubbed a fall arrangement, paid too much for it, and hurried back home.
Patrick wasn’t around, for which I was grateful. In fact, I had no idea where he’d disappeared to. The days where we kept each other apprised of our location were long gone.
Naomi was fifteen minutes late, leaving me to pace and fret she might stand me up. Finally, her car pulled in the parking spot outside. I grabbed the flowers, shrugged into my coat, and took the stairs two at a time. I had the passenger door open before she had a chance to get out.
Talk about eager. LOL.
“Hi.” I grinned at her, leaned over the console, and gave her what ended up being a deep kiss.
“Hi, yourself,” she said when we finished, her face flushed and her voice breathless. Her gaze strayed to the flowers crushed between us.
“Oh, uh, these are for you.” I held them out to her, noting a few blooms were broken or squashed.
“They’re beautiful,” she gushed as if I’d given her a spectacular floral arrangement instead of a bunch of wilting cut flowers. Naomi didn’t seem to mind. She rewarded me with another kiss. And another. And…we weren’t leaving this parking lot if we kept this up. I reluctantly withdrew and ran a finger gently down her cheek, taking in her loveliness. Tonight she was mine. All mine.
“I guess I should’ve brought something to put them in,” I said lamely.
“I have something.” She took the lid off her water bottle, placed it in the cupholder, and squeezed the flowers inside. She bea
med at me, and I grinned so widely my jaw hurt.
“Where are we going for dinner? I want that good steak.”
“You’ll get it. I promise.”
I sat back happily and enjoyed the ride. She parked in front of a rustic restaurant called the Lumberjack. I’d heard of the place but had never been able to afford it on my college-kid finances.
“Are you sure? This place is spendy.”
“Paxton Graham, are you uncomfortable with me paying the tab?”
“A little. I guess that’s really backward thinking. Someday, I’ll have money and—” I stopped. It was too soon to be making those kinds of plans with her, even if I’d been making them in my thoughts almost since we’d met.
“It is, but no worries, Daddy’s paying for it. It’s going on his card.”
“That does make me feel better. When I’m playing professional hockey, money won’t be a concern.”
She kissed my cheek. “I don’t care about money, just you, but I am starved. Let’s eat.”
Now she was talking. I leapt out of the car and raced to the other side to open the door for her.
“Aren’t you the gentleman?”
“Sometimes, when I think of it. Just don’t expect such service all the time.”
“I won’t.” She laughed, warming me to my very soul despite a cold wind whipping around us. We hurried into the building done in wood and natural tones, continuing the rustic theme on the outside. I liked the place. I was comfortable here, way more than I’d have been in restaurant decorated in blacks and whites with stark tables. The Lumberjack’s seating consisted of solid-wood booths with high backs, giving the occupants a good amount of privacy.
I waited for Naomi to sit down and slid in next to her. We cuddled together like a couple in love. I wasn’t willing to go that far yet, at least not on Naomi’s part, but things were going pretty damn well between us if I did say so myself.
We ordered drinks, a shrimp appetizer, and dinner. Spending her dad’s money, I asked for a huge steak, while Naomi had surf and turf. Once the garlic shrimp appetizer and margaritas were delivered to our table, we settled in. I plucked one of the plump shrimp from the plate and held it up to her mouth. She opened those luscious lips and sucked the shrimp into her mouth, chewing slowly. Once she swallowed, she licked the garlic sauce off my fingers. Watching her eat that shrimp made me hard and horny, but I had to be patient, and my patience would be rewarded later.
First, I was going to enjoy that steak.
Naomi would be dessert.
The steak was orgasmic, but Naomi was more so. I wolfed down my meal, and she wasn’t far behind. The whole erotic thing with the shrimp, which we ended up feeding each other, almost sent me over the edge. I used every method of self-control in my tool kit to make it through dinner.
When the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, I blurted out, “Yeah, but not here.”
He furrowed his brow in a quizzical manner, and Naomi jumped to clarify, “We’ll take our bill now. Thank you.”
She slanted a glance in my direction full of heat and promise, so hot I didn’t know why I wasn’t melting into this bench. Then the little wench did something wicked. She placed her hand on my thigh and slid it up to my crotch and rubbed my erection in a circular motion. I sucked a breath through my gritted teeth.
“I hope you replenished your condom supply,” she said with a sassy grin.
“Fuck yeah.” I grabbed her hand and held it away from my crotch. As much as I loved her particular brand of torture, my ability to control my lust was walking a thin line right now.
She smirked and leaned in to run her tongue up my neck. “Can’t take the heat?”
“Oh, I can take it, just not here.”
“I’m not wearing any underwear.”
The waiter came back, all business, before I had a chance to respond. Naomi signed the tab and left a tip. I didn’t wait any longer. I rose to my feet, helped her into her coat, and hustled her out of there.
“You’re going to pay for that little move inside,” I growled and pinned her up against her car.
“I hope so.”
Our mouths mated wildly with each other amid groans and whimpers. Panting, she pulled back slightly. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for too long.”
“Too fucking long,” I agreed. I yanked open her car door, and she got in. As soon as I climbed in on the passenger side, she was all over me again. We steamed up the windows in the car, making out like the insatiable, hormone-driven, twentysomethings we were.
Naomi, in an impressive display of limberness, climbed over the console and straddled me. “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.” This was insane, but insane, daring sex with a chance of getting caught appeared to be our jam. I unbuttoned the sweet little dress to reveal her lace-clad breasts, currently heaving from sexual arousal. I hooked my thumbs under the straps and pulled until her nipples were bared. I loved her tits. They were large but not too large, just right for my big hands, and those nipples haunted my dreams. Leaning down, I sucked one heavenly tip into my mouth, then the other. She writhed against me.
Naomi’s hands tore at my fly, and within seconds, my cock sprang free.
“Condom,” she hissed.
I managed to fish my wallet from my back pocket after banging my elbow on the door and drawing a giggle from Naomi. She grabbed it out of my hand and unrolled the rubber over my throbbing dick.
“Fuck me now,” she ordered, and that was an order I planned to obey. Yes, ma’am. This boy aims to please.
She lifted her hips and guided herself down onto my cock, inch by excruciating inch. She was killing me, but I let her take her time. I closed my eyes and wallowed in the sensation of my hardness entering her moist, inviting softness.
Powerful emotions rampaged through my body, telegraphing a warning I wouldn’t heed. This overpowering passion wasn’t just lust. We’d progressed way beyond lust into territory I’d never been in before with anyone else. We were in a zone glorious in its wonder, infinitely frightening in its power.
Naomi began to move up and down, and I threw back my head and shut my eyes, allowing my body and mind to just be one with the experience. No more analyzing, just to be.
I was where I needed to be with who I needed to be with.
I was finally whole.
And I needed that as much as I needed her.
25
Sex on a Dryer
Naomi
Since our first official date on Sunday, Pax and I had been insatiable, horny college students. He’d spent every night in my dorm room. The bed might be small, but we weren’t complaining. The size made for great cuddling. Besides, it was cold outside, and cold permeated the drafty windows.
I’d never had a relationship that sexually intense. I was in a constant state of lust, and so was Pax. We got quite good at sexting to the point I had to shut off my phone in class or embarrass myself.
That weekend the team had a home doubleheader with Boston College.
The twins’ infamous chemistry was shot all to hell, but the team was still winning. Patrick and Paxton scored goals in both games. They were both playing well, just not playing well together. On more than one occasion, Coach Garf’s eyebrows drew together in a perplexed expression and Coach Keller’s frown deepened more than usual. Neither coach interfered with the tension between the two brothers, opting for them to work it out in their own time, and I was certain they would. After all, the team was flying high and a sure bet for the Frozen Four.
Mr. Graham didn’t attend the games that weekend, nor did my father. A blessing in disguise, if you asked me. I didn’t have to juggle my many conflicts in an attempt to make everyone happy.
After Saturday’s game, I met Paxton outside the locker room, and we headed with the team to the Biscuit. Pax ordered his fave wings, chicken Parmesan, and I ordered Thai spiced, along with a pair of beers.
“Where’s our captain?” Tate asked Paxton as he paused on his way to
an empty seat.
“Don’t know.” Paxton shrugged and dug into one of his wings. Tate hesitated, as if debating on saying more, then continued to an empty seat at the large table.
I ran my hand down Paxton’s back between his shoulder blades, and he leaned forward so I could rub his back, a post-practice/post-game ritual we’d developed in the short time we’d been a couple. No one seemed surprised to see us together, which was a relief.
Patrick strode in a few minutes later with a babe on each arm dressed exactly how I’d once dressed and balanced on ridiculously high heels. He paused when he saw us.
“Good game, tonight, bro,” Paxton said. I was proud of him for making the first move and forcing Patrick to talk to him.
Patrick’s eyes narrowed to accusing slits and simmering anger. “You’d be playing great if you were on a one-man team, but you’re not.” Without another word, Patrick navigated the tight space between tables and sat down at the end with his two picks of the night.
Paxton glared after him. “Selfish bastard,” he muttered. “It’s fine if he’s the one doing the scoring and holding on to the puck. It’s not okay when it’s anyone else.”
“He likes the limelight.”
“And he’s always had it. Never had to share.”
“Give him time. He’ll figure things out,” I told Pax as I continued to rub his tight, bruised muscles. Boston played a very physical game, and Paxton had been slammed against the boards multiple times. Patrick had fared far better, and I wasn’t altogether convinced that he hadn’t set up a few of those rough plays on purpose.
“I’ve been giving him time. If anything, he’s getting worse.”
“Maybe it’s coming to a head then, and you two should bare your souls to each other.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.” Paxton’s gaze slid down to the end of the table, where Patrick had his tongue in one blonde’s mouth while squeezing the ass of the other.
Gametime: A Moo U Hockey Romance Page 13
