Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by A. E. Wasp

  “You know what I mean,” Alex pushed. “Children who live with you, who you raise and claim as your own?”

  “That is not something I see happening for me.”

  Alex nodded. “Okay.”

  “Do you want children?” He honestly didn’t know what Alex felt about having kids. They had never talked about this before.

  “I do,” Alex answered seriously. “I think it would be wonderful to have a family. But it isn’t…” He searched for the words. “If I loved someone who didn’t want kids, I think I would be okay with it.”

  “But the rest of your rhyme?” Sergei asked. “Love and marriage? That, yes. I would like one day. Somehow.”

  Alex lowered the blanket, wrapping it loosely around his arms. “But you need friendship, then love and then sex.”

  “Yes. I am old-fashioned maybe. Maybe made wrong for this time.”

  Alex’s bright smile caught Sergei by surprise. “I think it sounds wonderful,” Alex said. He took a step closer to Sergei. They were mere inches apart, and the look in Alex’s eyes made Sergei’s pulse jump. “Just to be clear, you feel something toward me now, right? Something sexual?” Alex asked.

  Sergei studied his friend, taking in his tight muscular body. It was strong in a sinewy, lithe way was very different than his own bulky mass. He remembered the feel of silky skin under his fingers last night and the give of Alex’s mouth against his. “Yes.”

  Alex placed the palm of his hand on Sergei’s chest, shaking his head ruefully and caressing the muscles there. “Goddamn,” he muttered to himself. Then he took a step back.

  “I did not like seeing that man touch you,” Sergei admitted.

  “You wanted to be touching me instead of him?”

  Sergei moved closer. “Da, very much. But…”

  “But what?”

  Sergei looked at the deck. “What if I am a bad kisser?”

  “If last night’s surprise kiss was anything to go by, I seriously doubt that. But there is only one way to find out.” Alex put his coffee cup down on the wide railing and turned to Sergei. Holding the blanket around him with two hands, he tilted his face up. “Kiss me again.”

  Sergei’s pulse sped up, his hand shaking as he set his cup on the railing. Leaning forward, he framed Alex's jaw with his huge hands, cradling Alex like he was infinitely precious. Because he was. Alex’s baby blue eyes were wide as Sergei ran his thumb across his cheekbone.

  “Sergei,” he whispered, clutching at Sergei’s forearms.

  He lowered his head, acutely aware of every single butterfly crashing around in his stomach. And then his lips touched Alex's mouth, and he closed his eyes and stopped thinking completely.

  The kiss started sweet and soft, a simple press of closed mouths. Alex stretched up on tiptoes, his hands gentle on Sergei’s forearms. They kissed once, twice, three times, then Alex pulled back to smile up at Sergei.

  “Well?” Sergei asked.

  Alex gave a small shrug. “Not bad.”

  “Hmm.” Sergei slid his hands down to Alex’s shoulders and considered his options. A good goalie could see all the plays, calculate all the angles, and determine which would be the best way to move. Sergei ran his hand down Alex’s sides, feeling the ladder of his ribs under the thin shirt. He stopped with his hands resting on Alex’s hipbones and squeezed. “I make better.”

  Alex gasped as Sergei yanked him closer and kissed him firmly, his tongue demanding entrance to Alex’s mouth. Griping Alex behind his thighs, Sergei scooped him up without breaking the kiss, turned them, and sat Alex on the wide railing. The blanket fluttered to the deck.

  Now their heads were closer to the same level. Much better for kissing, but he missed the feel of Alex’s body against his. Yanking his legs apart, Sergei wedged himself between Alex’s thighs, pulling their bodies as close as he could.

  Alex whimpered against his mouth and clutched Sergei’s shoulders.

  Sergei bit Alex’s bottom lip, then ran his tongue over it. Alex’s hands flew to Sergei’s head, fingers buried in his hair, holding him in place.

  As if there were anywhere else he wanted to be. The heat of Alex’s skin through the thin shirt drove him crazy, and he was desperate to get his hands on it. He slipped his hands up his shirt, and Alex shivered.

  Sergei pulled Alex tighter against him. He needed more, more of the taste of coffee in Alex’s mouth, the feel of Alex’s legs clenched around his hips, and the soft gasps as Sergei explored every inch of Alex’s mouth.

  Desire flared in Sergei. Had anything ever felt this good before? His cock was so hard. Seeking some relief, he pressed against Alex’s stomach, whining against his mouth as he did.

  Alex wrenched Sergei’s head away from his mouth. “Okay. Okay,” he panted.

  “Better?” Sergei asked.

  9

  Alex

  Holy crap. Alex breathed heavily through his nose, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “That was better. Very good. A-plus.”

  Sergei grinned, looking very pleased with himself and massively turned on.

  Alex could tell how much Sergei liked kissing him from the giant dick currently rubbing against his abs. Holy fuck. He’d known Sergei had a nice-sized cock; over the years he’d gotten glimpses of it. But he had assumed Sergei was a shower, not a grower. Looked like he was both.

  Goddamn, Alex was dying to get his hands and mouth on that. He was a bit of a size queen; he could admit that to himself.

  Between Sergei’s hands mapping out every inch of Alex’s skin, and the tiny, abortive thrusts Sergei kept making against his stomach, Alex could barely think through the fog of his arousal. All he could picture was pushing Sergei down to the deck and riding him like a pony.

  No. He needed a clear head. It had been fewer than twelve hours since he’d stormed out of Charles’s condo. The last thing he needed was to jump into a new relationship, even if it were with someone he’d known most of his life. He needed to be smart this time, and he would be one hundred percent unable to look at the situation objectively if he and Sergei were having sex.

  “Stop,” he said, grabbing Sergei’s wandering hands. “If we’re going to try and figure this out, try to give us a shot, we need some rules. Rule one.” He pulled Sergei’s hands out from under his shirt. “No hands underneath clothing.”

  “That is terrible rule,” Sergei rumbled, slipping his hands back around Alex’s hips, on top of the shirt this time, and nuzzling his neck.

  Jesus. Alex bit back a whimper and tried to remember where his train of thought had been headed before Sergei had derailed it. Ostie de câlisse, Sergei’s mouth was as talented as his hands.

  The hands that were currently moving downward with serious intent. Before Alex could stop him, Sergei’s huge palm was pressing into Alex’s cock. His entire cock, from balls to tip.

  “Fuck,” Alex shouted, grabbing onto Sergei’s shoulders with both hands as he jackknifed from the lightning bolt of lust cramping his muscles.

  “Is okay?” Sergei whispered. His fingers tightened around Alex’s cock, and his tongue darted out to trace the curve of Alex’s ear. Fucker. That was dirty pool. His orgasm hovered so close, Alex could feel his balls trying to climb up into his body with excitement.

  “Ack!” he said intelligently. With all his strength, Alex straight-armed Sergei as far away from him as possible. Then he shoved hard, forcing Sergei off balance, so he had to take a step back. “Rule two,” he said through clenched teeth, curling his fingers around the banister. “No touching below the waist – underneath or above the clothes.”

  “That is also terrible rule.” Sergei grimaced and reached down to press his hand against the impressive erection clearly visible through his cotton sleep pants.

  Alex groaned and closed his eyes. “Stop that!”

  Sergei held out his hands helplessly. “But I am breaking no rules. I am not touching you at all.”

  “Fine. Rule number three. No touching your own dick while we’re trying to
have a serious talk.”

  “Fine.” Sergei held his hands out from his body to show he wasn’t touching anything.

  All that did was pull his shirt more tightly across his chest. Alex couldn’t help dropping his gaze down Sergei’s broad shoulders and perfect pecs to that fine package one last time. When he met Sergei’s eyes again, the bastard was smirking.

  Alex didn’t know why he’d expected Sergei to be shy or timid. He, of all people should have known better. When Sergei decided he wanted something, he went for it with everything he had. It was that dedication and drive that had helped him become one of the top goalies in the league.

  Alex needed to get his thoughts together. Torvill and Dean finally returned from their exploration, jumping up onto the deck from the shrubbery on the hillside. Dean twined around Alex’s feet. Torvill headed to Sergei, stretching her paws up his leg as far as she could and meowing to get picked up.

  Sergei obliged, holding the white cat by his face so she could scratch against his beard the way she loved to do.

  Alex slid off the railing and picked Dean up. “So,” he said to Sergei as Dean draped himself over Alex’s shoulder. “I need to be one hundred percent clear what we are doing here. What do you want?”

  “You,” Sergei answered immediately.

  Alex mentally rolled his eyes. “Your timing sucks. Like, really sucks. I know you. You’re ready to call it a done deal, and I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and you’re so hot, that it’s going to be hard enough. We need to take it slow.”

  “But why so many rules?”

  “They’re for me.” Alex smiled. “I love sex, I admit it. I’ve jumped into bed with guys quickly before. Always,” Alex amended. “And it just confuses things.”

  “How?” Sergei’s eyebrows drew together. He was already confused.

  “Because,” Alex answered slowly, “sometimes good sex feels a lot like love.”

  “Do you think it would be good with us?” Sergei crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I think it will be amazing. And rule number four—no unnecessary flexing.”

  Sergei’s answering smile was huge and made Alex tingle from his head to his toes.

  “You need to make sure you’re thinking with your big head, not the little one that has just decided to come out and play,” Alex scolded.

  “We will need to write these rules down. There are many of them.”

  “I’m good with that.” Alex carried Dean into the house, passing Sergei without touching, as if he had cooties. If he touched Sergei one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to stick to his own rules. Energy crackled between them, and he felt Sergei’s eyes on him like a weight.

  Why now? Why? He wanted to bang his head against the wall. Why did the universe hate him?

  Their discussion continued as they moved around the house, getting ready for their day.

  “So, are we dating? Can I take you on date?” Sergei called over the noise of the hairdryer Alex was using.

  “How would that work? You already pay for me anytime we go out.” Alex walked out of his bathroom to find Sergei lying on his bed wearing only a towel. His arms were crossed behind his head, drops of water glistening in his chest hair. “Okay, new rule. No being naked in my bedroom.”

  “I am not naked,” Sergei said with a grin, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

  “Close enough.” Alex could practically see the outline of his dick through the towel. Not that he was looking. Much. But seriously, the man was a solid slab of muscle from the huge biceps framing his face to the dips of his hipbones just visible above the towel draped loosely across his hips.

  “Then you are naked, too,” Sergei pointed out, waving at the towel wrapped around Alex’s much slimmer waist.

  “It’s my bedroom. I have to be naked in it.” Alex should stop staring at Sergei. He’d seen Sergei in a towel thousands of times, but never on his bed looking like a giant Christmas present begging to be unwrapped. His thighs were so thick and strong. God bless hockey player thighs. “And I thought we already agreed on no unnecessary flexing.”

  Sergei made his pecs flex like a stripper shaking her boobs.

  “You’re ridiculous,” Alex said, laughing.

  “If I put on underwear, can I come back?”

  Alex considered it, picturing Sergei in the short boxer briefs he liked to wear when he wasn’t on the ice. That might actually be worse.

  What could Sergei wear that wouldn’t make Alex think dirty thoughts? Nothing came to mind. Sergei could show up in a denim romper, and Alex would still want him. Okay, maybe not that romper. Or those stupid crocheted shorts he’d seen on Facebook. Alex chuckled at the mental image.

  “What are you laughing at?” Sergei asked.

  “Nothing. Now take your naked ass out of my bedroom.”

  “Fine.” He stood up, managing to keep the towel on as he did. “But I might as well commit the crime I am being falsely accused of.” He dropped the towel and sauntered out of the bedroom.

  Though he passed close enough for Alex to touch, he resisted. He deserved a cookie for his self-control. Alex smiled to himself as he opened his suitcase. Not having sex with Sergei was turning out to be more fun than jumping into bed would have been.

  He pulled on his jeans and a teal long-sleeve t-shirt and went to Sergei’s bedroom. Though the door was open, he knocked on the frame before going in.

  10

  Alex

  “In here,” Sergei called from his bathroom.

  He’d put on jeans, but his chest and feet were still bare. He leaned over the sink, carefully shaving and shaping his thick beard. Somehow, he looked even sexier than he had when he’d been wearing the towel. The fresh masculine smell of the shaving cream bypassed the logic centers of Alex’s brain, and he found himself taking the razor out of Sergei’s hand.

  “Let me,” he said to Sergei’s surprised reflection in the mirror.

  Alex hopped up to sit on the counter next to Sergei’s sink. “Come here,” he ordered, tugging Sergei to stand between his legs.

  “I like your shirt,” Sergei said, running his hands down Alex’s arms. “The color suits you.”

  Alex grabbed Sergei’s chin, tilting it up so he could swipe at the skin below his neck. “You might want to reconsider fondling my arms while I have a razor to your throat.”

  Sergei hummed in agreement and wrapped his hands around Alex’s waist, his thumbs making slow sweeps from the tops of his jeans to the bottom of his rib cage. “Better?” Sergei asked, letting Alex tilt his head side to side. “I break no rules.”

  “Stop talking,” Alex said, pinching Sergei’s chin. “You’re making my job harder.”

  Alex had to spread his legs wide in order for Sergei to fit between them. The heat from Sergei’s skin seeped through the two layers of denim separating them, and Alex couldn’t help but imagine them in a much more intimate position; a much more naked position.

  Shaving cream disappeared beneath his blade, and he leaned over to rinse the razor off in the hot water streaming from the faucet. Sergei’s hands slid to Alex’s thighs, his grip firm as he stroked from knee to hip.

  “Ah, ah, ah!” Alex said, waving the razor at Sergei. “No hands below the waist.” Truthfully, he was going to wrap his legs around Sergei and jump into his arms if he didn’t stop.

  “Rules,” Sergei grumbled, reluctantly moving his hands back to Alex’s torso.

  Alex pulled Sergei’s head down, cupping his cheeks with both hands and looking him in the eyes. “You have to take this seriously. This thing…” He swiped the razor at the top of Sergei’s beard. He liked it a little lower than Sergei did, and he wasn’t going to miss his chance. “This thing is so new. Like crazy new. We’re like a newborn baby deer hobbling around on wobbly legs. Like a soufflé rising, or a bubble floating gently over a cactus.”

  “I am very much being serious,” Sergei promised. “So, we are the baby deers? Or am I a soufflé and you are a soap bubble?” He cr
aned his neck, trying to see around Alex into the mirror.

  Alex yanked his head back. “I’m searching for the perfect metaphor. Let me search, stop metaphor blocking me!”

  He shaved the rest of Sergei’s face in silence while he gathered his thoughts. Not an easy task with Sergei’s hands roaming every inch of him from the waist up and his eyes leaving trails of heat over Alex’s face. He focused on the razor, not daring to meet that glance.

  The stubble on Sergei’s face trailed down his neck to meet the curls of hair on his chest. “You need to wear a t-shirt so I know where to stop shaving,” Alex joked. His thumb pressed under Sergei’s chin, keeping it pointed to the ceiling to stretch out the thin skin. He could feel Sergei swallowing and the beat of his pulse.

  He ran the razor under the water again, and banged it against the side of the sink to knock out the hairs. The sound was loud in the quiet room. Resting his hand on Sergei’s leg, he gently wiped a speck of shaving cream off Sergei’s ear. When Sergei shivered, Alex traced his finger lightly over the curves of his ear. Sergei’s breathing grew rougher, and Alex reluctantly pulled away.

  He darted in for a quick kiss, a sweet press of lips that startled Sergei. “I can’t risk this friendship,” Alex said, wrapping his fingers around Sergei’s wrists. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite ways to touch Sergei; all that power and strength stilled by the lightest touch of his fingers.

  “You are too important to me. And let’s be real, ninety percent of relationships go nowhere. They end with one or two broken hearts. With a bang, with a whimper, either way they just end. And it’s hard to go back to being friends when you are exes.”

  “I will always be your friend,” Sergei said seriously.

  Alex knew Sergei believed that. And he wanted to believe it, too, but he knew better. He could look ahead and see the end of this road, because one way or another, it wasn’t far away. They’d already had their meet-cute, and the getting-to-know-you dates, and the discussion of what they saw in their futures. They were coming in at the end of this romcom when the couple was due to have a Serious Conversation™ about What It All Meant and Where They Were Going. Probably in the pouring rain. Given that they lived in Seattle, that shouldn’t be too hard to find.