Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3

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Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 71

by A. E. Wasp


  Alex fit completely on Sergei’s body. Sergei’s arms wrapped around him, anchoring him around the middle.

  “I love how big you are,” Alex said. “How strong.”

  Alex felt like miles of golden skin and hard muscles, and the friction between them as they surged against each other was going to drive Sergei out of his mind.

  Alex had stopped kissing him, but Sergei forgave him because Alex’s mouth was latched onto the skin at the base of his neck, and he sucked and bit just right in between moaning Sergei’s name.

  Alex’s cock burned like a brand where it pressed rock hard into Sergei’s stomach, and his mouth watered with the thought of tasting it again.

  Alex rested his forehead against Sergei’s, their hearts pounding in sync. “Sergei,” he whispered. “Serhoya. God. I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.” Sergei ran his hands up and down Alex’s body from the back of his calves, over the swell of his perfect ass, up the muscles in his back and into his silken hair. Up and down. It felt so amazing, Sergei’s fingers clenched against Alex’s ass, and he couldn’t hold back a moan as his hips jerked up against Alex’s solid weight. He cursed under his breath.

  Alex shifted his weight, forcing Sergei’s legs open with the insistent nudging of his knees. Sergei spread willingly as Alex dropped down into the cradle of his body. Knees bent, Sergei’s legs clenched around Alex’s hips as they rolled relentlessly against each other with only sweat and precome slicking the way.

  It had never been like this before. Sergei hadn’t ever even imagined anything half as intense as this and they had barely started. It wasn’t smooth, the skin on their dicks sticking and pulling. Sergei tangled his fingers in Alex’s hair, pulling their mouths together again.

  The near-silence also was a revelation. He had imagined more cursing or gasping or something, but they were both so quiet. The hum of the air conditioner, the rumble of the traffic outside, and their soft moans, harsh breaths, and the slap of skin on skin were the only sounds.

  Alex’s eyes glowed in the dim light of the neighborhood coming through the windows.

  Kissing was beyond them, and they simply breathed against each other. Sergei licked Alex’s lips, and his breath hitched so sweetly, Sergei had to do it again. When Alex’s mouth opened on a moan, Sergei licked inside, running his tongue along Alex’s teeth, across the sensitive palate, feeling the bumps and ridges there. Alex whimpered, clinging to Sergei. Sergei wanted to do so many things, but almost all of them required letting go of Alex, something he was profoundly unwilling to do.

  All of them but one.

  Reluctantly prying one hand off Alex, he reached over to the nightstand. Congratulating himself on his excellent foresight, he grabbed the lube he’d stashed there earlier. With a quick prayer of thanks to the no doubt horny packaging engineer responsible for the flip top, Sergei flicked the tube open with his thumb and squeezed some onto his fingers and palm.

  The lube felt good when he rubbed his fingers together to spread it around. He had never touched another person in the way he was contemplating, but he had tried it on himself and enjoyed it very much. The men in the videos he had watched multiple times over the last week seemed to like it even more.

  In one smooth move, he slid his hand between Alex’s ass cheeks and dragged his fingers along the crack.

  “Sergei!” Alex yelled.

  Sergei pushed his hand deeper, fingers catching against the rim of Alex’s opening before sliding down to cradle his balls.

  Alex buried his head against Sergei’s neck, breath hot on his skin. “Oh God, oh God,” he chanted, hips thrusting helplessly back against Sergei’s hand.

  “Fuck, Alex,” Sergei cursed. It took all his willpower not to shove his fingers right into Alex. He wanted to feel that heat, feel Alex clenching around him, and see his jaw slack with lust. “Lift up, baby. Please. Just a little.”

  Alex whimpered and pushed up on his knees far enough for Sergei to slip his lubed hand between them. The way Alex shuddered and groaned as Sergei slicked up their cocks was almost enough to push Sergei over the edge.

  He moaned long and loud. “Feels so good, lyubov moya. So good.” Pulling his fingers out, he flailed about for the lube. His fingers closed convulsively around the tube as Alex dragged their cocks together, squirting lube on the bedspread. He really didn’t care. He spread more over himself, guiding Alex’s hand to wrap around the both of them.

  Sergei’s eyes rolled back into his head. It felt even more amazing than he’d imagined it, and he’d thought about it a lot in the last few days. He wasn’t going to last much longer at all. He slid his hand down Alex’s ass again, pushing his finger against Alex’s opening with serious intent this time.

  “Sergei, Sergei, Sergei,” Alex chanted, rocking forward into the tight grip of his hand, and then back against the imminent intrusion of Sergei’s finger. “Do it, do it. Please. God. Fucking do it.”

  Sergei’s low laugh was strained. “Since you ask so nicely, zaichik.” He slid his finger in up to the second knuckle, and Alex shouted wordlessly. He pressed farther, finger curving up, searching for the spot he’d been promised would make Alex feel amazing.

  He figured he’d hit it when Alex yelled and rocked harder against Sergei’s hand.

  Every time Alex’s cock slid over Sergei’s, every time Alex’s clenched fist stroked their cocks, shocks of electric pleasure shot up Sergei’s spine, making his breath catch in his throat and the blood pound in his ears.

  Alex’s teeth latched onto the skin of Sergei’s neck as his hips lost all rhythm, and his dick throbbed against Sergei’s. His muscles locked up, trapping Sergei’s finger inside, as he came soundlessly, pulsing hard and hot over Sergei’s cock and stomach, and there wasn’t one cell of Sergei’s body that didn’t want to be fucking Alex.

  While Alex shuddered and twitched through his orgasm, Sergei shoved him forward with his knees, freeing his cock from between their bodies. It slotted between Alex’s cheeks like it was meant to be there, and Sergei braced his feet on the bed, thrusting up over and over until his orgasm punched all the breath out of his lungs. Back arching up off the bed, tendons standing out on his neck from the strain, he shot into the air, spilling over Alex’s ass, and spattering streaks of white onto Alex’s back.

  “Fuck, fuck,” he panted, hands clenched on Alex’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin. “Holy shit. Oh my God.”

  Alex kissed every inch of Sergei he could reach without moving, whispering Sergei’s name over and over into his skin.

  They held each other until their breathing returned to something close to normal and their heartbeats slowed.

  Alex’s kissing slowed and his body grew softer and heavier against Sergei’s. “Was it good?” Alex mumbled against Sergei’s neck. “Worth waiting for?”

  “You are amazing, Lyoshenka. And this feels amazing because it is you and me.” Sergei rolled Alex gently off of him and kissed him. “I’ll be right back.”

  He quickly cleaned up in the bathroom, bringing a warm washrag and towel out for Alex. Waving Alex’s hands away, he reverently washed his skin clean. He’d seen Alex a million different ways, but he had never looked so beautiful to him before. It was as if the physical intimacy had imprinted their love on his body.

  He was grateful for the gift Alex had given him. He loved Alex with his heart and his soul, and being with him like this only added a dimension to it. For Sergei, this physical connection wasn’t something separate that could exist without the love and the respect, and if for some reason they were ever not able to share their bodies this way, he would still love Alex just as much.

  21

  Alex

  Looking back, Alex would forever remember the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day as a kind of magical interlude and an oasis of calm before their world imploded.

  The Thunder had won their New Year’s Eve game with only two out of twenty-seven shots on goal making it past Sergei. Now the team wa
s gathered at Pucker Up to ring in the New Year.

  Alex amused himself by watching Dyson glower at Rhodes and the strikingly handsome man flirting with him across the bar. Sergei handed him a glass of seltzer with lime. He’d had more than enough vodka on Christmas Eve.

  If there had been any way to skip this party, he would have. He’d be in their bed right now showing Sergei the perfect way to ring in the New Year. He amused himself by figuring out when whispering dirty things into Sergei’s ear would have the most impact.

  Right now, they were having a semi-serious discussion. The bar certainly wasn’t the place for it, but it was the first time they’d seen each other that day.

  The synthetic ice people had gotten back to Alex. There was a good chance he could end up with a on a full-time position that paid well, though it had more travel than Alex wanted. He wanted zero, but oh well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “So how often would you be on the road?” Sergei asked.

  “I’m not sure. It depends on how many openings they have.” The potential job was with the company that made most of the large synthetic ice rinks. He would be something between a media spokesman and company mascot. Not the most illustrious of positions, but the pay was nice and came with benefits.

  Sergei frowned. “Well, I am very happy that you are happy. But I will miss you when you are gone.”

  “You’ll be gone more than I will,” Alex pointed out. The Thunder had almost forty away games during the regulation twenty-six-week season. If they made it into the playoffs, there would be even more travel.

  “I know,” Sergei conceded. “But I like knowing you are home waiting for me.”

  Such a simple sentence, yet it stirred up a storm of emotions for Alex. For one, Sergei had called his house ‘home,’ implying he considered it their home. Secondly, he was already thinking about missing Alex when the team was on the road, which hadn’t happened since they’d started this thing. And finally, imagining Alex waiting for him at their home made Sergei happy.

  Part of Alex wished it didn’t make him happy as well. On the one hand, he wanted to be a strong, independent gay man who didn’t sit around waiting for his man to come home. On the other hand, he loved the idea of turning this lovely but mostly empty house into a cozy home that Sergei couldn’t wait to return to. The kitchen alone made Alex want to buy every recipe book he could find and start experimenting.

  Alex pictured himself walking around the deck like a sailor’s wife, looking out to sea and wondering when her man would return to her.

  He rolled his eyes at himself, trying to remember how much he hated being a kept man. Househusband was just a fancy name for a kept man. It wasn’t like they had any kids to justify him staying home.

  “It will be okay,” he said to reassure himself as much as Sergei.

  They killed time until midnight watching the jealousy dance between Robbie and Paul. Alex almost laughed himself silly when Paul hit on Lipe’s sister in a misguided attempt to get back at Robbie. Alex enjoyed getting to meet some of the other teammates and their wives and girlfriends. They accepted him as Sergei’s date, even though he and Sergei hadn’t officially said anything.

  Alex could barely remember why he had fought it. It seemed like there wasn’t going to be some big coming-out drama for Sergei. Sergei hadn’t introduced him as his boyfriend, just with a simple “This is Alex” to anyone new. Maybe it was some kind of hockey don’t ask, don’t tell policy, or maybe no one really cared one way or the other.

  Finally, finally, the countdown to midnight started. 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1.

  “Happy New Year!” Sergei said, toasting Alex and bending down for a quick but decidedly possessive kiss. No one who had seen that was going to tell themselves Alex and Sergei were just pals. Alex decided he didn’t care if Sergei didn’t care.

  After they finished exchanging toasts and well wishes with everyone in their group, Alex pulled Sergei a little away. “Can we go now? I have big plans for you that involve a lot more nudity than the bar allows,” he whispered into Sergei’s ear.

  Sergei dragged him against him for an even hotter kiss that had Nikki raising her eyebrows and glass at them in appreciation.

  Alex liked her a lot. He hoped she and Jake would get their happy ending. They deserved it.

  Keeping his hand clasped on Alex’s, Sergei gave their friends final happy New Year wishes and a goodbye that was so brusque it bordered on rude. Nikki laughed, and she and Jake gave Alex matching thumbs up as he put his coat on.

  Outside, Seattle greeted the New Year with the traditional heavy mist. Drops of water caught in Sergei’s dark beard and hair and reflected the Christmas lights as they walked the short distance from the bar to where they had parked the car.

  They passed two men kissing in the shadows under the awning of a jewelry store, oblivious to anyone who might be watching.

  “Were those your boys?” Alex asked softly when they were out of earshot. Not that he thought Robbie and Paul would have noticed if he’d burst into song as they passed.

  “Yes.” Sergei frowned. “They are not very good at the hiding.”

  “Someone should have a little talk with them.” It was one thing for Sergei to have a relationship with a man. Sergei was a much-loved veteran goalie with a stellar record and a surprisingly low profile. And Alex wasn’t another hockey player on the same team, for one thing.

  Paul and Robbie were young rookies in the league with a lot of media attention on them due to their shared history and the future potential they showed. Robbie was actually leading the league in points for rookie defensemen. They were definitely in the spotlight.

  Alex shook his head. “That is not going to end well.”

  Sergei looked back to where the boys had been. They were gone now. “Maybe yes, maybe no. They will have to be strong.”

  “That’s for sure. Let’s get home. It’s cold and damp, and I have plans for you.” He waited for Sergei to unlock the door. Sergei came around and opened the door for Alex, holding Alex’s hand and helping him into the seat. “Thank you, sir.”

  Sergei kissed the back of Alex’s hand. It was a good thing he was already sitting down because that simple touch of Sergei’s warm lips on his cold hand made Alex’s knees weak.

  Alex kept his hand between Sergei’s legs as they drove the short distance back to home. The rule was both hands on the steering wheel while you were driving. That was one rule Alex had insist on keeping.

  But Alex wasn’t driving, and Sergei’s hands were at ten and two on the wheel. The set of his jaw and the way he nudged the car over the speed limit even more than usual let Alex know Sergei was in just as much of a hurry to get home as he was.

  Alex had created a monster, and he loved it. And he loved Sergei. He could admit it. Like ‘never move out, build a home, and have his babies’ loved him. By some miracle, Sergei loved him despite all his flaws. If this job worked out, he’d be able to contribute to the household, or at least pay his own way. Maybe he could buy himself a car.

  He pulled Sergei’s hand to his and kissed it, then released it. “Both hands on the wheel when you’re driving the expensive car.”

  Sergei pulled him in for another kiss, and Alex melted against his strong chest.

  Amazing how much could change in a week.

  The purr of the engine, the low music from the radio, and the champagne lulled Alex half-way to sleep. Sergei’s hand warm and heavy on his thigh felt too good for him to worry about the rules. They’d thrown away so many rules already, what was one more? Besides, Sergei was an excellent driver. If he felt safe enough with one hand, who was Alex to question it.

  The sound of the garage door lowering pulled him out his half-erotic-dream, half-fantasizing state.

  “Come on, sleepyhead,” Sergei said, unbuckling Alex’s seatbelt for him.

  Alex couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. Getting out of the car and going upstairs seemed like so much work. “Carry me?” Alex whined softly.

/>   Sergei laughed and got out of the car. “You can walk, zaichick. Hurry, or I will start without you.”

  Hmm. Alex felt a bit more awake with that image. He opened his eyes. “Good. Do it. Be naked by the time I get upstairs and you’ll get a point for the assist.”

  Enjoying the thought of seeing Sergei naked and stretched out on the bed when he got into the room, Alex sat in the car for as long as he could resist the temptation. He impressed himself by counting all the way to twenty before scrambling out of the car. “Ready or not, here I come,” he said to the empty garage.

  Stopping barely long enough to toss his coat in the direction of the coat hook and slip off his shoes, he bounded up the stairs almost crashing into Sergei who sat slumped, fully-clothed on the landing, his hand covering his face. The fingers of his other hand were clamped white-knuckled around his cell phone.

  Alex stopped dead. “Serhoya?” Icy hands gripped his stomach as he sank down to the stairs, putting his hands on Sergei’s knees. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked up at Alex, devastation clear on his face. “Elena. She is dead.”

  “Oh my God.” Alex threw himself at Sergei, wrapping the larger man in his arms and holding him as he sobbed his heart out.

  22

  Alex

  It was surreal how quickly life could change. One second everything was perfect, and the next, the bottom fell out.

  Watching the Thunder machine going into action to get him and Sergei to Los Angeles gave Alex a new appreciation for how much money and connections could smooth the way in life.

  They were on a plane and in their air before the sun rose.

  Alex’s fingers bit into the leather arms of the first-class seat. Even in an emergency, Sergei was too big for coach. The GM had offered the use of the team jet, but a commercial flight would actually get them there sooner. Sergei had taken his bereavement leave, and the league hadn’t released any details to the public beyond saying that Sergei had suffered the loss of a family member.

 

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