by Laurie Lochs
“Not kidding,” I growled. “You’ve already got one ass to yourself. I don’t see why you need to harass mine.”
Liam’s boyfriend Xavier threw his arms around Liam's neck. "My ass isn’t thick enough for you, baby?"
Liam peppered him with kisses. "Yes, love. I just couldn't resist poking Mitch’s bubble butt with my giant stick."
I glanced at the hockey stick Liam had been using to smack my ass. “Oh Jesus. Is it bad that stick near my ass is more action than I've been getting in months?”
Liam laughed. “No luck in the boy department, I take it.”
"I wish,” I said with a sigh. “The only action I've been getting is some hot contractor ogling my dick at the Care Center. But I wouldn't even say that's enough to jerk off to."
“Hot contractor?” Liam and Xavier whispered in unison, licking their lips.
"He's building a stage,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's a bit of a grump. But it’ll help with the shows we do to inspire kids.”
“Yes,” Liam said with a laugh. “I’m well aware you do drag shows for 15-year-olds. You’re destroying the morals of an entire generation."
"That's the idea,” I said with a grin. "At least they won't end up repressed like you."
Liam grinned. “Did you get a chance to check out the contractor’s package?"
I barked out a laugh. "Oh, not exactly. But I did snag an incredible glance at his ass."
Liam wolf-whistled. "Is there enough bubble in his butt? Or does this anonymous sexy contractor not have enough ass for Queen Mitch?"
I put my hands on my hip and snarled at him. "He's got ass, alright. But what he doesn't have is the balls to ask me out."
Xavier burst into laughter. "I wouldn't exactly say you're the easiest guy to ask out."
“Erm, I'm very approachable. Outside of my work environment,” I added perfunctorily.
Liam and Xavier shared a glance. "And when, pray tell, are you ever outside of your work environment?"
I mulled this over. "When I’m roughing it on the Rainbow League."
Liam rolled his eyes. "So you're telling me this poor guy would have to join this damn hockey team to have a chance with you?"
I finished lacing up my skates. “Now you’re getting it."
Liam groaned. He and Xavier finished getting ready. We were ready to go.
But Liam stopped me before I headed out. “Hey, wait a sec. He’s almost here."
"Who?"
"My friend,” Liam explained. "The one I told you about. He’s joining the team and today’s his first practice. He’s running late but he's going to be here any second."
A second later, the door swung open and the most gorgeous man ever — who I happened to recognize very well — walked through the door.
4
Luke
God dammit. If only I hadn’t been jerking off about the fucking queen at the Care Center, I might’ve gotten to practice on time.
I snorted and threw open the door to the locker room. No doubt, the players would all be there, ready to hit the goddamn ice. And here I was, with the residue of my early morning jerk-off sesh between my thighs — and a fuckton of guilt on my mind.
I took one step into the room when I froze. Sitting on the bench, with sparkling sassy eyes, was him.
The sassy little associate from the Care Center.
And holy shit, he was looking more gorgeous than ever.
Liam, one of my closest friends for nearly 3 years, rushed towards me the second I walked in the room.“Luke!" he exclaimed, grinning like a maniac, and burying me in a hug.
"Fuck,” I grunted, returning the bro embrace. “I’m late as hell. Let’s just chalk it up to traffic and try not to ask any questions.”
Liam laughed. "You're not late. A queen like you couldn't be late if she tried."
“Uhh.” I glanced at my biceps, curly chest hair, and thick thighs. Yeah, definitely not queen material. “Someone gave you the wrong information. I’ve never had anyone call me a queen in my life.”
But bear? 100%.
“I'm fucking with you,” Liam said, smacking my ass. "You're going to have to lighten up if you want to fit in on the team. They’re… Ruthless,” Liam said with an evil smirk, winking at Mitch — who, as luck would have it, was beet-red and fighting back a grin.
My heart was racing out of my chest with anxiety. I felt like I was going to crumple over and melt. Liam was trying to make me feel welcome, but Jesus — talk about an uncomfortable fucking time.
If only you hadn’t been beating your meat while thinking about the snarky little fuck in front of you, you would’ve gotten here on time — and wouldn’t have to put up with Liam’s shit.
Xavier, Liam’s boyfriend who I’d met one or two times, cleared his throat. “We’d love to help you get ready for your first day of practice, dude. But we’ve got shit to do. We’ll see you on the ice in five."
"But Mitchell will keep you company until you come out. Won’t you, Mitch?”
Mitch groaned. “Fuck you, Liam.” He turned to me with the same bullshit customer service smile he’d used in the Care Center. “Color me happy to help."
Liam and Xavier took their cues to leave.
It took all of two seconds for Mitch to face me and size me up. "I didn't know contractors played hockey."
"They don’t,” I grunted, rolling my eyes. “I’m only doing it to spite my godforsaken ex."
Mitch snorted. “Was he a hockey player or something?"
"No. It’s just that he never wanted me to join a team. Which is incredibly fucking dumb, considering I’ve played since I was a boy. So… Here I am. Joining a fucking team.”
"Was he a control freak or something? Like, he didn't want you to join anything?"
I scowled. “He didn't control me, if that’s what you’re asking. Or, at least I didn't let him. But he was, um. How do I put it? He was very particular about certain things. He wasn't big on sports, or bullshit activities. If it wasn't about work, he wasn't interested."
Something devilish flashed across Mitch's eyes. I knew at once my words had hit a sweet spot. “I can relate,” Mitch blurted out suddenly. “The Rainbow League is the only so-called extracurricular I do. But my heart is with the troubled boys at the Center. They’re the ones who really need my help.”
"At least that's a noble use of your time. My ex was a real estate developer."
Mitch groaned. "Well, they definitely make a lot of money. But I wouldn't exactly say it's good for the soul."
"My thoughts exactly,” I said, staring into Mitch’s eyes. My head was exploding. Were we actually agreeing on something?
“It's great if you want to get rich,” I continued. “But not if you want to make a difference in the world."
"Well," Mitch said, continuing. “At least he’s, like, working a job.”
“As opposed to what?”
Mitch snickered. “Just showing up to random nonprofits and ogling the director’s dick through his khakis.”
It was my cue to be a creep. Without a word, my eyes flashed to Mitch’s dick. In his referee uniform, his sexy fucking cock was unfortunately hidden from sight. I wanted to moan and bitch, but secretly I knew that it was more enticing this way — I’d just have to wait, and be patient, until one day I might see him naked in the showers — and then who the fuck knew what would get in my way.
Mitch continued talking. I zoned out and redirected my gaze from his crotch to his sparkling blue eyes. All I could think was, Holy shit. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.
But it wasn’t just his eyes — Mitch was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. His toned arms and firm abs seemed chiseled out of fucking marble or some shit. Though he was wearing a light pink shirt, I could even make out the indent where his two pecs met in the middle. The man was yummy as fuck.
In mid-sentence, Mitch suddenly stopped. “Did you hear a fucking word I just said?”
My eyes shot open. “Absolutely,” I said, without
missing a goddam beat. “You were talking about your passions. Or work. Or skating.”
Mitch cocked an eyebrow at me. “Son of a bitch,” he mused through gritted teeth. “So he can ogle my dick at work, but God forbid he listen to a word I say.”
With a smirk, Mitch rose and strutted to the door. “I’ll see you on the ice, jerk off. Let me know if you ever want to talk—”
He snapped his fingers, suddenly jolting me out of my daze.
I forced myself to stop staring at his dick and look into his eyes. “Sorry?”
“Forget it,” Mitch groaned. With that, he turned and left to hit the ice — but not before giving me a one-over and licking his lips.
The second he left, I let out an exasperated sigh. My cock was throbbing in my pants.
This seriously sexy queen was doing things to me I hadn't felt since I broke up with my ex.
Between the hockey team and the job, I didn't know how long I could keep seeing him without throwing myself at him and burying my face in his cock.
5
Mitch
"I wonder how big his dick is."
I glared at Jacob as those seemingly inconsequential words tumbled out of his mouth. They cut straight to my soul. Suddenly, I wanted to throw Jacob into the penalty box, where he could contemplate the myriad reasons why talking about our totally gorgeous, bashful and grumpy-as-fuck teammate wasn’t exactly the best way to start a conversation.
Especially when his conversation partner was hard-core lusting after said grumpy man.
"If you keep that up, I'm going to send you to the penalty box."
Jacob rolled his eyes. "Practice ended 20 minutes ago, Mister. The only box you're sending me to is Jack-in-the-Box, so I can get a strawberry malt and fantasize about Mr. Sexy Hunk — or, as some call him, the newest member of the team."
"I highly doubt your boyfriend Brent would like hearing you dish about the hottest member of the Rainbow League."
Jacob barked out a laugh. "Hottest? I don't think so. He may have the thickest ass I've ever seen, but my man is the hottest."
It was just Jacob and me in the locker room, two Queens left to dish about the hottest boys on the team. At five, the rest of the boys had filed out. Jacob's boyfriend Brent needed to leave early for work. He was a financial analyst and needed to finish up a presentation for the following morning.
"I just hope he hops into the shower next practice," Jacob said, licking his lips.
"Please, don't make it more uncomfortable than it already is. He might be a modern-day Heracles in the flesh, but I doubt he'd appreciate hearing you gossip about his thick juicy ass."
Jacob burst into laughter. "See? Even you think it's thick and juicy."
"Oh honey. That's because I'm the only one who knows what to do with an ass like that."
Jacob nodded. As a bottom, he was ready to admit he didn't know the first thing about breeding men. But I wasn’t a bottom. As a seriously fierce femme top, I wanted to tear his thick ass apart until he was left no choice but to gasp and claw my skin until I was blood-red.
My heart was racing out of my chest as I left Jacob and hurried home. The second I walked in, I threw my clothes off and rushed to the bedroom. From my dresser, I pulled out a sex toy and slid it onto my dick. I moaned as the rubber flesh cascaded over my cock, coating it in warmth. It elevated the sensation to another dimension.
“So fucking thick," I murmured, placing both hands on the toy and pretending it was Luke's enormous butt.
"Take it," I growled, thrusting into the toy. After a quick gasp, I deposited my load between the toy’s cheeks.
I opened my eyes, panting. My heart was racing out my chest. I wanted to throw myself at Luke in the middle of the locker room next practice. Maybe if I waited until no one was around, he’d feel comfortable.
But you have to take your time. You can’t let his build fool you — he seems so fucking timid and shy. Plus, you don't even know if he's a bottom.
I slid into the shower and rushed out the door to meet my best friend Denise for drinks.
"I want sex,” I said to the waiter earnestly. “Lots and lots of Sex-on-the-Beach.”
The waiter barked out a laugh. "That might be the kinkiest order I've heard all night. I'll bring your Sex, and then two tequila shots on the house for making my night."
Denise, my best friend of five years, clenched my arm from across the table. "You're fabulous. You know that?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Queen. Men love me so much they're willing to give me free shots."
“As long as you’re so great at getting free shit… If you could come with me the next time I go to Louis Vuitton, I’d appreciate it very much."
"Oh honey,” I said with a laugh. “My charms only work on the gays."
"Exactly my point. Louis Vuitton."
I barked out a laugh as her words washed over me. Louis Vuitton was gay sugar baby central.
The waiter arrived with our drinks. Denise took her Manhattan and turned to me.
"Any luck in the dick department lately?"
"I fucking wish,” I said, taking a long sip. “There’s a new boy at work, but I didn't think he was interested in me. Turns out, he already has a man. I totally misinterpreted his advances, which weren’t advances as much as they were friendly overtures designed to get me on his side. Turns out, he wanted to put in a pool table for the youth. I told him we weren't in the 50s anymore, and that I didn't think anyone still played pool."
“Did you get the pool table?"
I sighed. "Yes. It turns out I was dead wrong. The pool table has been a hit."
"Did you at least get to fuck him? Because I’m seeing a golden opportunity for some hot-as-hell hate sex.”
I shook my head. “No bitch. He had a husband. If I did that, I'd be fucking a married man."
Denise laughed. "At least you have morals. That's more than some can say."
I nodded wisely. Denise knew more than anyone about my history with men. It wasn't something I talked about with everyone, but I kept it within me all the same. From guys who only wanted to experiment before turning “straight” again to men who took advantage of me and tossed me to the side. I didn’t spread my legs just for anyone.
Actually, that’s wrong. You don’t spread your legs for anyone. You make the man spread for you.
But even that wasn't enough to stave off shitty guys. After three years of what I thought had been a happy, committed relationship, my ex had revealed to me after one Bloody Mary too many that he was married, with kids and a family to boot. He'd started crying, and wanted to leave them for me. But the trust had been broken. I’d run out of the restaurant in tears, unable to see his face again.
Femme tops might be a rare breed. But I was not about to be fetishized by a closeted married man.
Denise turned back to me. "Are you sure there isn't anyone?"
I sighed. "Well…"
Denise's eyes lit up. "Spill it, sis."
I burst into laughter. "Fine. There is one guy. His name is Luke, he's a contractor, and unfortunately, he's just my type."
Denise howled with laughter. She waved the bartender down and ordered a fresh round of drinks.
I stared into Denise's eyes and decided to continue. "I've only met him twice. I'd be lying if I said our conversations weren't brief, and awkward. But we seem to get along… Sort of."
"What do you mean, sort of?"
I sighed. "I'll be the first to admit that I’m not exactly friendly with guys. Ice and standoffishness is what I do best. So, it follows that I haven’t exactly been friendly with him.”
“Besides,” I added matter-of-factly, “he’s probably not even attracted to boys like me."
"It takes a special man to open you up, that’s for damn sure.”
I barked out a laugh. "Nobody opens me up, sis. Not in your fucking dreams."
Denise grinned. "What I'm trying to say is that you don't just start conversations with anybody. There must be something to him to mak
e you want to keep coming back."
"Well, it doesn't hurt that he keeps popping up everywhere I go. He came to the office – we hired him to do work on the stage we’re building – and now he turns up on my hockey team. I can’t avoid him."
Denise smiled. "Would you avoid him if you could?"
"No." I stared at her. "He's hot as hell. You should see his ass."
Denise grinned. "Then make an effort, Mitch. Show him you actually want to talk to him. He might think you're not interested, because of your personality."
I sighed. "Fine. The next time I meet him, I'm going to stop being such a snippy bitch, and actually talk to him."
"But if I get my heart broken," I added with haste, "I'm never taking man advice from you again. Deal?"
Denise roared with laughter. "Deal."
We finished our drinks. On the way home, I made a mental note to take Denise’s advice. I was going to show him a brand-new Mitch so that he wouldn't have any choice but to spread his sexy, hairy legs in bed for me.
6
Luke
"Just set that here. I'm sure we'll find a way to make it fit."
I smirked at Shelly, who was leading me into the auditorium with a giant box of supplies. Like Virgil in Dante’s Inferno, she guided me through a long winding maze of hallways and double doors until we reached the room where we’d get down and dirty. If the tape marks on the laminate floor were any indication, it was where we’d begin building the centerstage.
"Sure we’ll get this shit inside?” I grunted, nodding to the oversized cardboard box I was carrying.
Shelly cocked an eyebrow at me. "We might have to grease the doorway. Or coat it with lube. But we’ll get the package into the room."
The package was an array of costume material Shelly and I were bringing inside. We were using it to see how the various materials would fit in the room and mesh with its aura before the initial construction. With my friend at a local architecture firm, I’d sketched three different prototypes. Today, I’d be meeting with a higher up to finalize the design.
