Brett tightened his grip on Rylan’s cock, moving his hand up and down in slow, even strokes, squeezing when he reached the crown. At every opportunity, he swiped his thumb over Rylan’s leaking slit. Each and every one of Brett’s actions was rewarded by Rylan moaning, gasping and writhing.
It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Rylan’s pelvis jerked upward, he fisted the sheets until his knuckles were white and he pressed back against the bed. His entire body jerked and trembled, then Rylan’s cock began pulsing in Brett’s grip. He kept going, working Rylan through his orgasm until he was a ragdoll sprawled on the bed gulping in deep breaths.
“Doing okay?” Brett patted Rylan’s chest. Rylan looked at him, licked his lips, and nodded. Brett laughed. “I’ll take that as I done good.”
“Oh, yeah.” After another few minutes Rylan pulled himself to a sitting position and rubbed his right leg.
“I’ll get your cold wrap,” Brett said and shimmied off the bed.
“It’s still pretty early. I’d rather go back down stairs for a bit and I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.” Rylan moved slowly to the edge of the bed.
Brett held out his hand to help Rylan up but the offer was declined with a shake of Rylan’s head.
Don’t fuss. Brett was constantly trying to work out in his head where the line was between supportive and helpful and overbearing and hovering. He quickly retrieved Rylan’s cane and handed it off to him.
“I’ll uh…” Brett rubbed at the back of his head, “…meet you downstairs? How about pizza?” He waved at the bathroom. “There is a small closet right inside the door, plenty of towels and washcloths.”
Rylan smiled gratefully and made his way to the bathroom door. “I’ll yell if I need help.”
Brett nodded and slipped out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen. By the time he’d ordered delivery pizza and got some beers from the extra refrigerator in the basement, Rylan had joined him in the den, freshly showered. The way little droplets of water still clung to his hair gave Brett a warm feeling he couldn’t help but demonstrate to Rylan with a soft, chaste kiss and a gentle hug.
They spent a pleasant, downright domestic evening eating pizza, drinking some beer and watching a mystery.
Brett had never had this sort of relationship, he liked it—a lot. He wanted more evenings like this. Many, many more.
Chapter 14
Rylan woke up in a better mood than he’d been in since leaving Vancouver. Brett’s desire hadn’t waned, in fact if last night was any indication, his yearning had increased. If Rylan was brutally honest with himself he’d admit the loss of desirability was something he feared the most. He was forced to face a life where his ability to perform movements and jumps only a handful of people were capable of was gone. However, being sexy, desirable, and loved was something Rylan most certainly did not want to give up or come to grips with, especially since those attributes had so recently come to him.
Even though it’d only been a short time, Rylan was sure the crush he’d harbored for Brett for years had blossomed into love. He was a little afraid to speak his feelings just yet, but right now he was content to simply experience the emotions he focused on Brett and those that were returned.
He yawned and took a few moments to stretch and move his legs around before getting out of bed. That few minutes of stretching seemed to help him move better in general after being asleep. It was a habit he’d adopted a long time ago, and it was coming in very handy now.
He’d been vaguely aware of Brett kissing his forehead before slipping out of from under the blankets and padding quietly from the room. It’d been still dark outside, but now gray, early morning twilight was outside the window. Clinking and clanging coming from the first floor piqued Rylan’s interest. He sat straighter and concentrated on the noise which sounded like it was originating from the kitchen.
It was about that time the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, ham and waffles filled the room. Rylan wondered where Brett could have possibly ordered breakfast from that delivered so early in the morning. He decided he didn’t care, it smelled wonderful, and from the way his stomach growled, it thought so, too.
The night before Brett had hauled Rylan’s luggage upstairs and left it in the bedroom across the hall. There were two huge closets and a dresser, all empty, and they were now Rylan’s. If he wanted his own bedroom space, he’d use that room. Right now, there wasn’t a lot of furniture, but Rylan thought eventually he’d use it for an office since he wasn’t sure if he’d have one inside the training complex. He’d need somewhere quiet to do all the background work coaching often required and sharing Brett’s office at the training center wasn’t very appealing. Being together night and day, at work and home didn’t seem like a great idea to Rylan. After a quick trip to the bathroom Rylan hobbled to the spare room.
“I’m going to have to buy more clothes.” He dug through one suitcase, searching for something appropriate to wear. Today he was meeting with the rest of the coaching staff. Normally he’d wear workout clothes, but since he wouldn’t be skating he’d opted for jeans and a pullover cable knit sweater. He’d leave some of his exercise clothes in the physical therapy section of the training center since PT would take up an hour or two of his day at least four days a week. Then he took a few minutes to put away the rest of the items in the suitcase, deciding he could unpack the other two bags later. Brett had hung his one suit up, still in the garment bag. After another quick look around the room to assess where a desk and computer could go, he headed for the stairs.
Getting down the stairs with his cane was tricky. Since it was easier to use the stair railings to leverage himself along, he ended up hooking the handle over one railing and let it slide down. The brackets at the bottom that held the railing to the wall stopped it from falling away from the steps. When he made it to the bottom he grabbed his cane and made his way to the kitchen.
Rylan was unprepared for the sight that met him. He’d expected a collection of take-out boxes, plastic plates, and silverware, maybe a drip coffee maker. The night before he really hadn’t paid much attention to the kitchen. It was your average kitchen, no fancy pans or gadgetry lying about. A small, square table with a tile top and chairs sat in the middle of the room. There was a stove, refrigerator, double sink, dark green countertop, wall and under counter cupboards. The most interesting thing was a tall, narrow wine rack against the wall next to the door. A big window over the sink let in plenty of light and made the room bright and cheery.
This morning there was a stack of metal bowls in the sink, a frying pan on the stove sizzling with thick slices of ham, and small piles of flour were sprinkled over the countertop next to an electric waffle maker. A French Press coffee pot sat on the other side of the sink.
Rylan looked around. “You cook? But you own a restaurant chain.”
“A restaurant chain that doesn’t open until eleven and the nearest one is about twenty-five miles away.” Brett laughed. “Don’t sound so amazed. It’s not as if I’m summoning demons or making the Eifel Tower vanish before a crowd of hundreds. Up until yesterday, I’ve lived alone most of the time for a while now. Well, except for Row.”
Turning a one-eighty, Rylan peered through the door to the rest of the house. “You said no one else was here.”
Brett nodded to a mat with bowls on it at the end of the counter. “You slept in his spot last night. You two will have to work it out.”
Rylan stared at the ceramic bowls with paw prints around the sides. The mat said, ‘A Dog is Love Wagging Its Tail’. “You have a dog? And you cook?”
Brett chuckled softly. “Push the coffee press down, will you?” He waved one hand at the French Press and opened the waffle maker when it beeped. Using an oven mitt, Brett pulled a stone dish from the oven and piled the waffles on top of others. “I retired, yeah, I work here, but I was bored. When I played hockey, I worked twelve and fourteen-hour days sometimes. Now, despite working here I have a lot of free time. W
hile the house was being remodeled I decided to take a cooking class. Did you know people in our age group eat out more than any other? Anyway, I had to pass a shelter on the way to the classes. One evening they had an adoption event and I stopped to look.”
Now it was Rylan’s turn to laugh. “I hear only looking is impossible.”
“It is.” Brett shrugged. “Row keeps me from getting lonely.”
“I feel as if I don’t know you.” Rylan pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Rylan, I retired. My whole life changed and instead of sitting around isolated, I got a new life, found some hobbies so I wasn’t working all the time, and got a dog. I spend an evening or two at the private BDSM club I belong to, but that’s it.”
Rylan grinned. “You have a dog. Where is he?”
“Kennel. I can’t pick him up till after nine. Row’s a mutt, sixty pounds of attention whore.” Brett finished another batch of waffles and took the rest from the oven. He piled the ham on another plate and put both plates on the table.
“I’ll get the coffee.” Rylan pushed out of the chair and moved to the counter. He leaned against it for a few seconds, gazing out at the training complex. “I’d almost forgotten how pretty it is.”
They were on a private road, the house on one side, the complex across the street. The sky had brightened, though there was still time before sunrise. Lights were coming on and cars were pulling into the parking lot. The building to the right Rylan knew housed the dorms for the live-in students, it was well lit up.
He carefully carried the coffee pot to the table. Brett retrieved mugs, cream and sugar, then pulled Rylan’s chair out for him.
“This is nice. Thank you. Living on the road I hardly ever get to enjoy a home cooked meal. I’d like to learn too,” Rylan said.
They spent a few minutes in companionable silence, eating. When he was finished eating, Brett took a sip of coffee, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then took his plate to the sink.
“The staff meeting is in a half hour, then I’ll go pick up Row. I think Gloria wants you in the therapy clinic right after lunch. I was hoping we could have dinner at the club—it’s called Ice Dragons—tonight. You could have a look around, meet my friends, three in particular, I think you’ll like.”
“You want me to meet your friends?” The words popped out of Rylan’s mouth before he could stop them.
Brett grinned. “Of course I do. I met yours, and like I said there are a few people I think you’ll like talking to.”
Rylan stood up and managed to balance his plate in one hand and use his cane with the other. He made his way to the sink and stood beside Brett. “You cooked, I’ll wash?” Rylan took a deep breath and watched Brett while he filled the sink with soapy water. “Who is it you think I’d want to talk to?”
Brett heaved a sigh and turned to Rylan. “That stuff about your safeword when you were in the hospital, it wasn’t my idea. I talked to—well e-mailed—another member of Ice Dragons, one of my friends. She’s also a psychiatrist and a sub, she—”
Rylan’s good mood vanished. Broken, poor little broken Rylan. “You think I need to see a shrink?”
“No, maybe, I have no clue. It’s not a horrible thing you know. That’s not why—”
“Why then? Because you think there’s something wrong with me? I’m damaged goods and what was last night, pity?” Rylan snapped.
Brett leaned against the counter. “Stop it.” This time Brett barked right back. “Of course I don’t think that and you know it. Faye is a smart, kind lady and understands our life style. Hell, she’s more into it than anyone I know. It’s dinner, not a damn group therapy. Her husband is her Dom and they have a man who is, well, I’m not exactly sure what he is, but they all live together. Her husband is a stock broker and their third, Ed, is an engineer.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I only thought you’d enjoy meeting them and maybe make some friends.”
“So, what, you think I’m not capable of making friends on my own?”
“No. Rylan. C’mon. They’re my friends and I just would like it if you met them and for them to meet you. It’s only dinner,” Brett’s voice was soft, he was almost pleading with Rylan, which melted Rylan’s heart a little bit.
Rylan put the dishes into the sudsy water and began washing them. “I’m sorry.” He stared down at the bubbles and didn’t make eye contact with Brett when he handed off cleaned dishes to be put in the drying rack. He flicked suds at his brace. “This thing is ugly.”
“Not on you it isn’t. Faye and Jim and Ed are my only real friends there, other than George, but he works here too. If you like them and got along we could…if you’re ever interested, we could do a scene with them.” Brett shrugged. “If not, that’s fine as well. We usually all meet for dinner once or twice a month. Just dinner. They’re fun and interesting people.”
Rylan glanced at his watch after passing the final dish to Brett. “I’m really sorry I flew off the handle at you. This is all…I don’t even know what. We should probably get over to the training center.”
“You’ll love Row.” Brett pulled their coats from the hooks near the door and held Rylan’s for him.
“Thanks. The question is, will he love me?”
Brett snickered. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s at least part Labrador retriever. He loves everyone.”
Rylan slipped the coat on. “Duly noted. At least I won’t have to work to win him over, since I’m sleeping in his spot now.” He stretched and gave Brett a kiss which was returned with gusto. One of Brett’s arms slithered around Rylan’s waist and he was pulled in against Brett’s solid body. Despite him willing his body to be still, his hips rocked against Brett’s thigh. Rylan got one hand up and against Brett’s chest, pushing back a little. “We should probably stop this.”
Brett laughed. “You started it.”
“I’ll finish it, too. Later.”
“You’d better.” Brett grinned and let go before stepping to the door, holding it open. “I can pull the car around.”
“Na…I need to walk more and practice using this cane.” Rylan positioned himself so Brett was on his good side and slipped his arm through Brett’s as they walked. They separated when they reached the entrance. Brett opened the door and as Rylan walked inside he whispered, “I’m looking forward to finishing and pleasing you.”
Brett bobbed his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.
Big Sky training complex was like a small sports arena. There were two buildings, the dorms for boarding students and the larger, main training center. There were two ice rinks, the admin offices, and locker rooms on the first floor as well as a dance studio. The second, Rylan remembered, was where an observation deck was located. The rehab/physical therapy center took up one entire end of the second floor. There was also storage, a small, but well-equipped gym and a conference room where videos of competitions could be shown. It often doubled as a classroom when the coaches needed to do group work off the ice.
Rylan stopped in the middle of the large entry room and gazed around. “I didn’t realize ‘til just now how much I’ve missed this place.”
“Well, you’re back and have no reason to leave. Most of the equipment is set up in the main rink. The other one we use for demo shows and games. Hockey practice is there while the figure skaters train on the main ice. There is a speed skating track outside,” Brett explained. “And an indoor track was added upstairs, it goes around the perimeter.”
The place was already alive with activity. Rylan felt the usual rush from the scent of ice and the clank of skates. Already a half dozen or so young athletes were on the ice doing warm up exercises. These were the students who lived there for intensive training. They were young men and women on the verge of entering world class competitions. Rylan recognized a few.
At one end of the rink cameras and computers were set up just off the ice. Rylan followed Brett to the group of people, the coaching staff, waiting there. The meeting was a quick round of introdu
ctions and a rundown of who coached who. Since all the older students had been with a coach or coaching team for years, Rylan would be starting with the younger children. He breathed an inward sigh of relief. The little kids would be just learning the basics and his inability to demonstrate difficult moves on the ice wouldn’t be as critical. Besides, he’d be with several other coaches and assistants who could do that for him.
“Come and watch this. I think you’ll find it impressive.” One of the coaches, a man by the name of Dennis, whom Rylan had once competed against, waved him into a chair in front of one of the computers.
Dennis called some instructions to one of young women skaters and she executed a few seriously elegant, and difficult movements. Then Dennis showed Rylan how the skater was videoed and her movements analyzed by the computer.
“Whoa,” Rylan exhaled the word.
Dennis grinned. “Different from when you and I began, eh?” He focused on the girl on the ice. “Kelly, you still need to pull your arms in tighter to get more lift.” He sat in a chair beside Rylan. “These kids are doing triples and quads sooner and better. Some are getting five rotations. It makes me hurt just thinking about it. If you or I competed against some of them today we’d be blown off the ice. The only points we’d get would be pity points.”
“Five?” Rylan was sure he’d misheard.
Dennis nodded. “The computer sees and digitally offers corrections for what human eyes couldn’t possibly follow. I have to say I’m damn glad you decided to join us. We’re one of the few training centers with this tech and there is a waiting list from here to there,” he waved at the far end of the rink, “…for people to get in. Some smaller, local places band together and share computers and software. At least in many parts of the country. I don’t think many high schools can afford this stuff, colleges maybe. Brett paid for all this out of his own pocket.”
Edge Jump Page 19
