“…and that should be some wedding! Too bad we can’t go, but of course, I already let your Aunt Mary know that we’d all be coming to Brian’s wedding. And Erica’s due in June, so I’m guessing there’ll be a baptism sometime in July. Maybe August.”
Mike couldn’t take it anymore. The months stretched ahead of him like the eight circle of hell. He blurted out, “I won’t be home this summer,” before he could think better of it. He and Alexei had been talking about it, but with the playoff travel schedule and general exhaustion, no decisions had been made. Now, he could see there had never really been a decision to make.
His mother’s litany of domestic bliss finally came to a halt. “What? At all?”
“No. Sorry. I’m working. You know, for Alexei.” Just saying his name should have made Mike feel better, but the lie made him feel vaguely ill. Alexei wasn’t his boss. And Mike wouldn’t allow Alexei to pay him any longer. He had no idea how the hell he was going to find money to send home this summer. “I’ll see if I can make it to Brian’s wedding,” he added as a concession. It wasn’t his cousin’s fault he was straight and Mike’s mother was fucking baby crazy.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mike. We can find you a job. And I have too much planned for you to flake out on us.”
Mike willfully ignored the flaking out comment. “You do?”
“Yes. A few of my friends at church and I have been talking and they’d love to introduce you to their daughters. Oh, and one of them has a niece that we think would be just perfect for you. I was thinking you could—”
“No!” Mike said loudly, then took a deep breath and choked back the desire to continue shouting. “Mom, please, listen to me. I don’t want you to fix me up with anyone. I don’t want get married, okay? Just stop.”
His mother sucked in a breath like he’d punched her in the stomach. “What?”
His father chuckled. “Easy, Louise.” He sent Mike a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure at twenty two, Mike still has some wild oats to sow.”
He sure as hell did, but that didn’t make his father’s comment any less creepy. Jesus. “Actually, I think you should count on the fact I’ll never find a girl I want to marry.”
And that was as close to the absolute truth as Mike had ever come.
His mother looked stricken. His father confused.
“Dad!” Jayne said, her voice sounding overloud in the stunned silence around the table. “Tell Mike about your new job. You were saying it’s kind of fun?”
Mike’s father visibly pulled himself together, even managing a weak smile. “Yeah. It’s a good group of guys. They’re all younger, of course. Lots of energy, but I try to keep up.”
Mike winced. He appreciated Jayne’s obvious attempt to change the subject, but she’d managed to land them on Mike’s second least favorite topic—the lasting evidence of how launching Mike into hockey had decimated his father’s career in the process.
“That’s great, Dad,” Mike said, trying to drum up genuine enthusiasm. “You working the day shift?”
His dad shrugged. “Nah. Just part time. Nights. But I’m hoping to get more hours, eventually. And it all helps.”
Mike felt a familiar rush of frustration as he imagined how much of his pay would be going home for years to come. Predictably, it was followed by a tidal wave of guilt. This was his fault, even if he hadn’t signed up for any of it.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he managed. “I’ll see what I can do about sending more home, okay?”
“Thanks, son.”
“No!”
Their parents both looked at his sister like she’d lost her mind. Mike guessed he was, too.
“I can take out loans,” Jayne said firmly.
Mike frowned at his sister. “It’s okay, I want to—”
“No.” Jayne stared right at Mike. “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner, that my tuition was a problem. They never told me.”
“What your mother and I decide is necessary to keep this family afloat is none of your affair,” their father said in his patented shut up now or there’ll be hell to pay voice.
“I disagree, Dad,” Jayne stated flatly.
Mike had to admire her guts, even as he wished she’d let it go. He wasn’t going to let her take out loans any more than his parents were. He shook his head at her discreetly, begging her silently to drop it, but she ignored him.
“It’s not fair to Mike. Lots of people get loans—”
“That’s enough, Jayne,” their dad barked, striking the table with his fist. “This family sacrificed to get Mike where he is, and now it’s his turn. He owes us.”
And there it was.
Mike wasn’t the least bit surprised, but still his meal curdled in his stomach as they all sat, silent, and absorbed what his father had finally admitted aloud. Mike owed them. Money. Babies. His willingness to slip into the life they’d carved out for him, without his input, regardless of whether or not he wanted anything to do with it.
Mike stood and carefully placed his napkin beside his plate.
He felt sorry for Jayne and the horrified realization written all over her face. Even felt sorry for the disgusted twist to his mother’s mouth and her obvious distaste at having such matters discussed at the dinner table. In public, no less. He didn’t bother to check what expression his father wore. Mike didn’t want to hear whatever else he might like to add.
They’d all said enough for one night.
“Thank you for dinner. And for coming down to see the game,” he said to the centerpiece, and then to Jayne.
Jayne started to stand, but he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She looked furious, but he could tell it wasn’t for him. He’d catch up with her later. Make it right between them.
But right now, he just needed to leave.
Without a backward glance, he left the restaurant and started walking toward the hotel.
Alexei sat on the edge of his hotel room bed for hours, twitching at every sound in the hallway, waiting for Mike to come back.
Alexei had been anxious about this visit, and Mike’s meal out with his parents after the game, for the two weeks it had been in the works. Mike, though, had seemed to okay with it. Tonight, he’d been just as Alexei had come to expect after they’d won a big game. Happy. Relaxed. His smile had only dimmed a little when he’d announced he had to head out to meet his parents.
It was such a radical departure from how Mike had been just five months ago at Christmastime, Alexei had let himself stop worrying for a while. Mike had changed. Become more confident. More settled with who he was, in so many ways. He’d certainly taken to debating things with Alexei with a new passion that Alexei adored, even if it made him a little crazy, too.
But now, sitting here waiting, Alexei couldn’t shake the feeling that Mike seeing his parents would take all that away again.
Alexei wished he’d gotten his shit together sooner and told Mike his ideas for the summer. For the future. He realized, in hindsight, he’d been a coward. And because of that, he’d sent Mike off to the wolves without protection.
The sound of a key in the door brought him to his feet, his hand on the knob, pulling the door open, before Mike had a chance to enter the room.
All of Alexei’s fears were realized, stamped on Mike’s pale face. The light was gone from his eyes. The achingly vulnerable man Alexei had met on Mike’s first day in Moncton—a man Alexei hadn’t seen in months—had returned.
He towed Mike into the room, closing the door as he wrapped his arms around Mike as tightly as he dared this far into the playoffs.
“You’re okay,” Alexei said, his lips pressed to Mike’s neck.
Mike clung to Alexei, his hands tight fists against Alexei’s back, and shook his head.
Alexei ran a hand up and down Mike’s back, trying to soothe him. It made no difference. He buried his nose in the soft skin behind Mike’s ear, pressing his lips to the frantic pulse beneath. Ran his fingers through Mike’s hair. Rubbed his
neck. His back. Mike held on, painfully tight, but remained rigid. Unbending. Alexei’s responsive lover was lost.
In desperation, Alexei glided a palm over Mike’s ass, intimate knowledge and lots of practice allowing him to unerringly find the freshest bite mark. Testing, he pressed two fingers into Mike’s flesh.
Mike shuddered, and melted against Alexei like his strings had been cut.
“What happened, Michael?” Alexei asked quietly, letting a hint of command thread through his voice. They didn’t often take these roles outside of sex. Almost never, in fact. But Alexei would do whatever it took to make Mike whole again. To help him eject whatever poison was eating him up inside.
Mike’s voice was muffled against Alexei’s shoulder. “He said I owed them,” he began, telling Alexei what had happened, about the wife and grandchildren and financial stability he was expected to provide.
Alexei’s jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so hard, but he held on and listened helplessly while Mike poured out the entire story.
By the time Mike finished, he was breathing hard.
Alexei waited until Mike had settled a little before he spoke. “What do you want?”
Mike lifted his head so that Alexei could finally see his face. His color had returned some, but mostly in the form of damp cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “What?”
“Do you want to marry a woman? Have ten grandchildren for your mother to show off at church?”
Mike actually shuddered. The look of utter revulsion on his face would have been comical in other circumstances. “No.”
“So, what?”
Mike stared at the wall over Alexei’s shoulder as he gave it serious thought. “I don’t want to go home this summer,” he began thoughtfully.
They’d both already known this. “And?”
“I don’t want to send them so much.”
“And?”
“I want to keep enough to start saving.”
“Good idea.”
“And to help Jayne get through school.”
“Okay.”
“But I want to do that directly. Not going through my parents.”
Alexei nodded. Because it was a good idea, and because he could feel more tension ease from Mike each time he spoke. “And?”
“And…” Mike repeated, focusing on Alexei’s face with the first hint of a smile. “You.”
“What?”
“I want you.”
Alexei smiled, towing Mike closer, pressed against his chest once more. Most of what Mike wanted, needed, he’d have to get for himself. Alexei would support him however he could, but ultimately, it was up to Mike.
But his last request? That, Alexei would freely give.
Chapter Thirteen
Mike woke up the next morning and couldn’t remember where he was. He pried open one eye to see unfamiliar shapes and shadows. Felt the coarse sheets under his cheek.
Then the arm around his waist tightened, warm lips and bristly playoff beard brushed the back of his neck, and half the weight of a professional hockey goalie smashed him into the mattress.
Mike slipped back into half-sleep.
Yesterday had been an emotional roller coaster, but none of that mattered as much as the next ten minutes, floating here with Alexei wrapped around him. They had some magazine interview thing they had to get to at some point. One he should care about at least a little, he thought with a smile. He spared the clock a glance and saw they still had hours.
Mike waited, vaguely recalling some of the best moments of the last two months. His growing erection dug into the mattress, but he didn’t touch it, instead savoring the discomfort. Alexei sometimes made him wait ages, and god, it was so fucking worth it.
More blood surged south.
The hand on his belly slid down and gripped his hip.
“Moi milyy.”
Mike smiled into his pillow. Alexei didn’t know it, but Mike knew what it meant now.
My sweet boy.
Mike wondered if the helpful Russian left winger from Charlottetown who’d translated it for him would catch on if Mike asked him how to say my sexy, brilliant man in return.
Probably.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
The warm hand traveled from his hip over his ass. “Are you sore?”
Mike’s smile grew. “Yes.”
Alexei had fucked Mike hard last night, still only a foot inside the room, on the same spot Mike had told Alexei about his horrible family. He’d smashed Mike against the door and shoved two fingers up his already tender ass, thumping his prostate until he’d barely been able to contain his shouts of joy. Only their teammates’ voices in the hallway, their presence in the rooms around them, had held him back.
It had been exactly what he’d needed.
Alexei prodded at the now aching ring of muscles with one finger and Mike gasped, writhing.
“Poor baby,” Alexei crooned in his ear, his sympathy genuine, but Mike could hear the smile there, too. “I can feel how swollen you are.”
His thick finger wiggled past Mike’s muscles without any lube and Mike gurgled into the pillow.
Alexei knew, without a doubt, that he could have Mike again, right now. Hard and fast. Slow and gentle. It would hurt either way and Mike would not just allow it, he’d want it. Need it. Love it.
But Alexei had no desire to hurt Mike. Not really. He liked to leave his mark, of course, but he would never do anything that would truly injure his lover. And after last night, and the night before, it would be too much.
He sucked in a deep breath, his mouth still pressed to the back of Mike’s neck, and let the heady and familiar scent fill his head. He’d become addicted to this. To Mike.
It still scared the shit out of him, but his fear was nothing in the face of what he truly wanted. For Mike, he would be brave.
He gently circled the inflamed skin with his finger, feeling Mike clench around him, knowing that each clench set off a zing.
Mike made the most amazing noises when he was aroused. When they were home, Alexei’s ears often rang for hours after they’d made love. When they were on the road, forcing Mike to contain that noise had become a favorite form of entertainment for them both.
Michael shuddered, wordlessly begging for more, his pillow muffling whimpers and groans.
This morning Alexei wanted to do something different.
He pulled his finger free and rolled off Mike. “Get the lube and a condom.”
Mike jumped to his knees and reached over the side of the bed, leaving Alexei a perfect view of the swollen, fire-red ring of Mike’s anus. The hairs on Alexei’s neck stood on end when he considered what his dry finger must have felt like. Then Mike turned, supplies in hand and his cock as hard as a pike.
Alexei smiled. “Put them on.”
Mike reached for Alexei’s erection.
Alexei stopped him with one hand. “Put them on you.”
Mike’s head snapped up. His mouth fell open.
Alexei burst into laughter.
“Were you kidding?” Mike asked with a frown.
Alexei’s laughter died instantly. He rolled to his knees and took Mike’s face between his palms, furious at himself for putting that look of uncertainty on Mike’s face.
“No, Michael,” he said softly, “I’m not kidding.” He kissed his lover, long and deep, slowly rubbing the tension from his shoulders. “I’m sorry for laughing. You just looked so surprised. I wasn’t making fun of you, only enjoying the moment.”
“Are you sure?”
“About teasing you or about the sex?”
“The sex,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Yes. I’m very sure. Now, hurry up and get ready. We don’t want to have to rush the rest of it.”
Michael sat back on his heels and tore open the little foil packet. Shaking hands attempted to put the condom on three times before Alexei plucked it from his fingers.
“Let me.”
“Yes, please,” Mike agreed with a l
ittle laugh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never have a hard time getting one on you.”
Alexei smiled, stoutly refusing to chuckle at Michael’s wide eyes. He looked elated and terrified as he watched Alexei roll the condom down his rigid shaft, then drench his cock in lube. He didn’t even flinch as the cool liquid ran down over his waxed-clean bare skin.
Perhaps Alexei should have given Michael more time to consider. “You don’t have to do it.”
“What?” Mike’s head snapped up. “I want to.”
“You sure?”
He attempted a smile, but it wobbled badly. “Very sure.”
Alexei searched Mike’s face, relieved to find the growing light of determination, even while looking forward to reminding his lover just who was in charge, even from the bottom.
He turned and dropped to his elbows on the bed. “Prepare me.”
For the span of a few heartbeats, there was not a single movement from behind him, not even so much as the mattress shifting. Alexei wasn’t entirely certain Michael was still breathing. Then long, warm thighs slid between his, spreading his knees wider, and a single finger traced down the ticklish crease of his ass.
He gripped the sheets in his hands, refusing to squirm, and resorted to what came naturally. Giving orders.
“Hurry!”
Lube poured over his hole, caught up on fingers and rubbed into his skin. He’d thought he would let Mike take his time. He changed his mind.
“Put a finger in me. Now.”
The stretch was good. Michael’s groan relaxed Alexei more than anything his clever fingers were doing.
“A second.”
A fleeting moment of burn passed quickly and Alexei gripped the bedding tighter. His cock bounced against his belly with every thrust. He bit the sheet between his teeth when Mike’s fingers spread, scissoring wide.
They had played like this. Many times. But rarely did it go much farther before Alexei was throwing Mike to the bed and returning the favor, tenfold.
Crashing the Net Page 11
