by Sabrina York
Ian reached into his locker, pulled out piece of paper, and tossed it to him. “How about finding one who might stick around for more than ten minutes after you finish?”
Montréal Castillo Hotel and Spa. Dammit! Of course they would try and set him up with someone through the 1Night Stand dating service. He’d played a key role in hooking up Scott and TJ, as well as Todd, Ian, and Natalie, but that didn’t mean he wanted them to fix him up with some girl.
“No, no way. I told you from the outset Madame Eve was not going to hook me up with anyone.”
Scott came out of the shower room, and he waved the card at him. “Please tell me you had nothing to do with this.”
Scott held his hands up in innocence. “Talk to Tarah and Natalie. I don’t even know how to get in touch with her.”
TJ shrugged. “It was all Todd and Ian.”
Todd gave him a shit-eating grin.
Ian, his partner in crime, smirked. “Her name is Addison, seven o’clock in room 1018. Make sure you bring rubbers.”
He groaned, great, they trapped him into a date already. “Fine, but don’t be surprised if nothing happens.”
“Come on. Madame Eve will work her magic and, poof, you’ll have yourself a perfect girl.” Todd patted him on the shoulder.
Owen nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He stuffed the card into his jeans pocket, shoved his feet into his shoes, and grabbed his jacket as he tore out the door, not looking back. In the solitude of the car, he let his shoulders slump. How could he tell his best friends a perfect girl didn’t exist for him? He closed his eyes and rested his head on the steering wheel. He wanted the perfect guy.
Chapter Two
Owen planned to ditch the date. He’d told his friends as much. But a few moments later he received a text message from Madame Eve. She assured him she found his match and encouraged him to at least show up and say hello.
So he found himself in an amazing suite, in one of the nicest hotels in the city, waiting on some too skinny, ditzy blonde girl named Addison in whom he would have to feign interest until he could escape. The clock read five to seven.
As if on cue, a sharp, firm knock sounded. Owen pulled the door open, preparing a compliment on how nice she looked. Instead, he found himself unable to speak.
Slightly taller than him, the man in the doorway had curly blonde hair that nearly touched his collar and big blue eyes, half hidden behind trendy square-framed glasses. He looked sexy in them, too. A hint of five-o’clock shadow darkened his jaw. An elegant gray cashmere sweater clung to broad shoulders tapering down to his flat stomach and trim waist. Damn if it wasn’t one-hundred percent his type standing in the doorway. Too bad his date would be coming any moment.
“Hi. I’m looking for Owen.” A soft accent he couldn’t put his finger on colored the man’s deep voice. This gorgeous guy is looking for me? Instead of speaking, Owen nodded and moved back to allow the newcomer into the room. “It is wonderful to meet you. I am Addison.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re Addison?”
The handsome man stepped into the hotel room and closed the hotel door behind him. His eyes darted around the room. “Yes, is that a problem?”
“No I just—” He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. “I was expecting a girl.” His heart pounded in his ears.
“Oh, my, I see.” Addison’s shoulders sagged. “I must apologize for the misunderstanding.”
He had taken a step toward the exit before sanity returned and Owen gripped his shoulder. “I said I was expecting a girl. I didn’t say I wanted one.” He held his breath, torn between hoping Addison would turn around and stay and fearing what might happen if he did.
He turned. “All right.”
Owen swallowed, hard, then babbled. “No one knows I’m gay. Like, no one, and my friends set me up, and Addison is also a girl’s name so I just assumed you were a girl. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I’m still shocked that a handsome and sexy man showed up instead of some blonde bimbo.”
He blushed. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Very much so.” Owen closed the small gap between them, lifting his head. Addison lowered his head, and their lips met for a brief, chaste kiss. Owen closed his eyes, reveling in the moment. He had been with guys before, always in places where he could be an anonymous face and not a famous hockey player. In their hotel room, for one night, he could be who he wanted to be. He could be free.
“I think you are very handsome as well.” Addison brushed one long finger along Owen’s cheek and glanced downward. Then back up into his eyes. “Please forgive me for being so forward, but we should, perhaps, have some dinner.”
“Dinner would be fantastic. Why is that being forward?” He glimpsed a bulge in Addison’s dress pants. The sight hardened his cock.
“I think we need to eat so we can keep up our energy later.” His voice dropped two notches and his accent thickened.
Owen pulled the other man toward him. He took his time exploring his new partner; his flavor minty, fresh, and sweet; his scent manly, with a hint of coffee and cologne. Addison shifted, pressing their bulging crotches together, confirming what they both had expected. Owen struggled to catch his breath. “Dinner sounds great.”
Addison rested his forehead against his, laughing. “What did you have in mind?”
“I hear they make an excellent steak.” Part of his brain wanted to run but the intoxicating stranger standing in his hotel room had mesmerized him.
“Sounds delicious. What else did you have in mind?” He raised one dark eyebrow.
“I think we can arrange something for dessert,” Owen licked his lips, and they held each other’s gaze for a long time before he pulled away and reached for the room service menu. They chose the chef’s steak special. The pleasant girl on the other end of the line said it would be about twenty-five minutes.
Damn, not much time to get a little action in before dinner. Addison found wine in the mini fridge and glasses on the sideboard in the small dining area and set them on the coffee table in front of the large leather sofa. He poured two generous glasses and joined him on the couch.
Addison picked up the wine glass. “To new friends.”
“To new friends.” Owen clinked his glass against Addison’s. “So what kind of accent is that?”
“I do not have an accent. You have an accent.” He grinned, showing off two rows of perfect white teeth. “I am from Germany, originally. My family moved here when I was ten.”
“You still have the accent after fifteen years?” Maybe he could glean more information from the gorgeous man sitting next to him.
Addison laughed. “Closer to twenty-five, but thank you for the compliment.”
“You look damn good for someone who is almost thirty-five.”
“Yes, well thank you.” He blushed, color filling his cheeks. “And to answer your question, you can only really hear my accent when I am tired or nervous.”
Owen took a sip of wine. “So which are you?”
“Sorry?” Addison frowned, his glasses slipping down his face. He pushed them back up.
“Which are you? Tired or nervous?” Owen moved a bit closer and rested his hand on Addison’s knee. Nothing like being bold.
His fingers traced over the back of Owen’s knuckles. “Nervous. In my line of work, you do not have much time to date, let alone have promising ones.”
“What do you do?” Owen turned his hand over so Addison could stroke his palm.
“I am a detective with the Sûreté du Québec.” Owen raised an eyebrow at the perfect French accent. Just how many languages did he speak? “Either the men I date have fan moments because I am a cop or they run away because they have a history. I cannot win.”
Owen gazed into his baby blue eyes. He moved his head enough to capture Addison’s soft lips, kissing him briefly. “I promise I won’t fan-girl on you. For the record, my dad’s a cop, and unless you include that bar fight when I was eighteen, I don’t have a criminal history.”
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br /> “A bar fight?”
He sighed. “A couple of teammates and I were in Halifax after a game. We had beaten the pants off of the Halifax hockey club and were celebrating when the some of the guys from the other team showed up. I don’t know how it began. I was in the bathroom.” The other man gave him a look over the top of the glasses. Not an incredibly intense stare but enough that Owen held up his hands in defense. “I swear I was in the bathroom.”
“Sure you were. Continue.” Addison’s hand snaked up his leg, squeezing the top of his thigh. So maybe they could have a little action before dinner.
“When I left the washroom everyone was throwing punches so I jumped into the melee, only to have cops show up and arrest every player in the place. Including several who weren’t even involved. Most of us were released, although the two guys who started it got charged. They pled it down and received community service. The papers had a field day with the incident though.”
Addison’s fingers snaked upward, and Owen grabbed his palm and pressed it onto his crotch.
Addison raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I suppose I can forgive your youthful indiscretion. I may have had a fight or two when I was younger.”
“I swear if you say young grasshopper right now, this is over,” he teased as Addison undid his belt and zipper.
“I promise not to say young grasshopper, young whippersnapper….” He laughed and brought his lips down to Owen’s. They kissed as Addison’s hand worked its way into his pants and underwear, caressing him.
“It’s only six years. That’s not bad. I prefer older men.” His breath caught as Addison’s fingers found the sensitive spot under the head of his cock.
“Your birthday is in May, so six-and-a-half actually.” He blinked. How the heck does he know when my birthday is? Then it dawned on him.
“Stop, just stop.” He pulled away and stood up, his heart pounding in his ears. Holy shit, he knows. Addison wasn’t some anonymous guy who could walk away. He could ruin everything for him.
With tears burning at the back of his eyes, Owen sprinted into the bathroom and twisted the lock behind him. He slumped against it, determined not to cry.
How could he have been so stupid? He had just talked about being a hockey player. Most people at least recognized him. They weren’t on the same level as the big leagues, but people in Montréal lived, breathed, and slept the game. Of course, he knew.
A soft tap drew him out of his thoughts. “Owen, open up, please.”
He shook his head, even though no one could see him. “This was a mistake.”
After a long pause Addison said, “I am not going to tell anyone you are gay. I am not in the business of outing people.”
The tears slipped down, and he shoved his hands onto his face, wiping them away. He hated crying. He hated all the lying, all the hiding. Why did he have to be gay? Why he couldn’t he be normal and want to fuck girls, and get a house with a picket fence, two-point-four kids, a minivan, and a dog?
Another knock, from farther away, and some muffled words. After some shuffling and a conversation he couldn’t quite make out, Addison returned. “Dinner is here. You are probably starving. Come eat, and we can talk. After that, if you want to leave, I will not stop you.”
His stomach grumbling in anticipation, he wiped the last of his tears away and stood up. Owen took a moment to splash cold water on his face although his damned puffy eyes would betray him. He zipped and buttoned his pants before returning to the living area.
A perfectly laid out meal sat on the table, delicious aromas floating upward. Dammit. Addison stared at the food like he didn’t see it. His shoulders slumped when Owen approached. “I am so sorry. When you opened the door, I was stunned, and then I thought there had been a mistake. Then when you said there wasn’t, I did not know how to react. I am sorry for not speaking up right away. I promise I will never tell anyone, about you or about us.”
Owen swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thank you. You have to understand we can only be tonight. If anyone found out about me....” He shook his head. “Just tonight.”
Addison closed the gap between them and brushed his fingers over Owen’s cheeks. “Just tonight.”
Owen lifted his head enough to capture his lips. They kissed, soft and tender, the kind of kiss he wanted to come home to every night. This sucks. Part of him had understood the moment Addison stepped into the room that their connection wouldn’t be permanent, but damn if he didn’t want more, a lot more.
Addison pulled away and took his seat at the table. “We should eat something,” he murmured.
“Yeah, it smells amazing,” Owen conceded, taking the chair across from him. Scott hadn’t been lying when he said the food here was to die for. His steak melted in his mouth. He didn’t indulge in steak often, not in the usual hockey player diet, but the meal classified as outstanding.
Addison took a sip of wine and then held the glass against his lips. “So, really, nobody knows about you?”
He shrugged. “Other than the guys I’ve had affairs with? No one.”
“Not even your parents. Not any of your friends?” His eyebrows raised over the top of his glasses.
“Can’t risk it. As soon as the whispers begin, you’re done. How would it feel if every time someone took me down on the ice and screamed faggot at me, they actually meant it?” He finished off the wine in his glass. “I’ve been aware I was gay my entire life, even if I didn’t understand what that meant. When I looked at the big leagues I realized there isn’t a single gay player. Not one who has come out after the fact either. Statistically there must be some. The rumor mill runs overtime, and it tends to change on a regular basis. I’m not ready to be the first professional hockey player to come out.” Owen refilled his glass. “I’m so far in the closet, not even the dust bunnies can find me.”
Addison laughed out loud, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “I do know what it is like to be in the closet, Owen.”
“Are you?”
“At work,” he confirmed. “My family is aware. My mother was surprisingly more okay with it than I was when I first came out. Having family support is a good thing.”
“Look, you’re not going to change my decision.” The rest of what he wanted to say died in his throat as Addison reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“Not trying to change you, or the situation. Let us enjoy our evening, especially if it is all we are going to get.”
Owen nodded and raised his glass “To tonight.”
Addison clinked the rims of the glasses together. “To tonight.”
They finished dinner with light conversation about their jobs and friends, managing to skirt around the two elephants in the room. Finally, they snuggled on the big leather coach.
It felt odd, having a large, handsome man hold him as they talked. So good and so terrifying all at once. He found himself wishing he could have this sliver of normalcy all of the time. As much as it shocked him to admit it, he didn’t want this to be for just one night. He pushed the thought aside as ridiculous.
Addison shifted and brushed against Owen, jolting him out of his thoughts.
Owen snaked his hand across Addison’s abdomen, resting it above his belt buckle.
“How far do you want to go, Owen?” His thick, rhythmic accent mesmerized him. His palm burrowed into Owen’s crotch, fingers rubbing his hard dick through his dress pants.
He swallowed. He wanted Addison ...wanted him so much he could taste it. Would it scare him off to tell him that he always did the fucking? “I’m good with whatever,” he lied.
Addison ducked his head and kissed him hard, undoing his belt and pants and sliding a hand inside his underwear. Owen followed his example, stroking his thick length. He rubbed his thumb over the head of the semi-hard cock, and Addison pulled back.
“Careful,” he whispered. “I am uncircumcised.”
God, the stuff of fantasies. A sexy European with a thick, uncut prick.
Owe
n shifted on the couch to face him. He grabbed his partner’s tight ass and guided him to kneel on the couch, then pulled him out of his boxer briefs.
Nice and long, the dark red head peeking out of the foreskin. His cock looked gorgeous. Addison threaded his fingers through his hair and raised an eyebrow “Are you going to suck me off, or are you just going to stare at it?”
He slid his mouth over the long cock. His tongue traced the head of his dick, under the foreskin. Addison growled. Owen worked over the length, swallowing as deeply as possible then pulling back to suck on the head. He moved the foreskin back and forth in his mouth as his lover grunted and moaned.
The heavy balls tightened, and he kept sucking, wanting to get him off, but Addison pressed a hand to his jaw, stopping him.
He glanced up in surprise.
“I do not want this to end so soon.”
“Sorry, I forgot that at your advanced age you’re not able to get it up more than once a night.”
Addison gave him a smack on the shoulder for that comment. “I can, but I want to come while I am inside of you.”
Owen tried not to panic. He nodded, his stomach twisting into knots.
Addison stood up, stripped out of his slacks, and pulled his sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew. He fixed them and then looked down at him. Owen absorbed the beauty of his sculpted frame. Defined, muscled. Light hair on his chest, darker and thicker as it trailed lower. Perfect.
“How is it that I am naked and you are still wearing all of your clothing?” Addison smiled, his teeth sparkling and his cock jutting, pre-cum shining on the head. He didn’t offer a hint of embarrassment at his naked state or any trace of hesitation in his voice.
Owen stood and closed the gap between them. Their mouths met as Addison’s fingers slid into his open pants, untucking his shirt. He made short work of the buttons and tossed aside the dress shirt along with his undershirt. Owen’s pants hit the floor, and he managed to toe out of his socks.
Addison stroked along Owen’s cock. “I think we need to move to the bedroom,” he mumbled between kisses.
