Hot Off the Ice Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by A. E. Wasp

  He’d trapped Sergei on the couch when he’d come looking for Alex after the team lunch. It was the only way he could think of to get Sergei to sit still long enough to help him make some decisions about the twins’ party. Unfortunately, he had neglected to take Sergei’s new status as sex god into account, and it was proving more difficult than expected for either one of them to focus.

  “I like the cat with the hat. He is funny.” Sergei slid his hand under the bottom of Alex’s shirt, dragging his finger around the outside of his bellybutton.

  Alex squirmed and slapped his hand away. He settled deeper against the arm of the couch. Undeterred, Sergei rubbed his hands down Alex’s legs where they were thrown over his lap.

  “I don’t know,” Alex said with a frown. “It feels lazy.”

  “Hmm.” Sergei slid his hand between Alex’s thighs. “Probably we should think about this in bed.” He rubbed his thumb on the crease of Alex’s leg, and Alex’s dick stirred in response.

  Alex clamped his thighs together, trapping Sergei’s hand. “I feel like we would not get much accomplished in bed.”

  “I think we could do many things,” Sergei countered.

  “I have like no time to put this party together,” Alex pointed out. “It has to be perfect.” It would be perfect.

  Alex’s phone pinged with an incoming message. Then pinged again and again as people weighed in on the latest party suggestions in the SAPS group chat. He frowned as he read the messages. “Cowboys and Indians? Really, Jennifer? With face paints?” He shook his head as he composed a reply. “Cultural appropriation much?”

  Sergei slowly dragged Alex down the couch, shifting until he sat between Alex’s legs.

  Alex squeaked when Sergei started rubbing his cock through his sweatpants. “Sergei! I have to do this.”

  “Then, please, do not let me stop you. Keep playing with phone.” His heavy palm pressed against Alex with no finesse. Sergei was not playing around. He was a man on a mission.

  Alex groaned. “Do what you want. You won’t distract me.”

  Sergei snorted a quiet laugh. The game was on.

  Alex went back and forth in the chat as Sergei rubbed and stroked him. “Oh, my God,” he said as Sergei’s fingers trailed down over his balls. Sergei smirked, and Alex turned the phone to him. “This baby’s name is Nirvana. Who does that?”

  Point Alex.

  Sergei rubbed his thumb roughly over the head of Alex’s dick.

  Alex whimpered and sent a key smash of a text to Suzanne. Point Sergei.

  “What do you think about a circus theme?” Alex asked, forcing his voice steady. The way he shifted to put one foot on the floor had nothing to do with the way Sergei’s hand was slithering under his balls. It was just more comfortable. “One of the twins could be the ringmaster, and one could be a lion tamer?”

  Sergei stopped his exploration and looked up at Alex like he was considering it. “Can we put lion costume on cats?”

  Alex burst out laughing at the mental picture. “Absolutely.”

  They’d call that one a tie.

  Sergei sat up, and Alex totally did not whimper at the loss of contact. He may, however, have made a sound when Sergei pulled his shirt off. But, really, the man’s chest was ridiculous.

  “Yes?” Sergei asked, settling against the arm of the couch, all the way on the other end of the sofa.

  “Um, what?” Alex lost his train of thought as Sergei slid his hand into his own pants.

  “I think you said something?” Sergei gave himself a long stroke and sighed.

  No fair. Fine. Five points to Sergei.

  Alex’s phone pinged. Clearing his throat, and refusing to touch his own aching cock, he read the message. “Kidchella? Amanda, you are watching too much Keeping up with the Kardashians.”

  Sergei’s foot brushed Alex’s leg as he moved. Alex fought the urge to look as he heard cloth rustling and Sergei’s rumbling growl of pleasure.

  His phone rang at the same time as Sergei gasped. Despite his best efforts, Alex’s glance flicked over to Sergei. He had his cock completely out and was stroking it slowly, eyes half-closed in pleasure.

  “No fair! That’s cheating, you bastard,” Alex complained.

  Even Sergei’s chuckle was sex-laced. “You best answer phone,” he said, panting. “May be clown for birthday party.”

  “No clowns,” Alex said automatically. Eyes locked on Sergei’s hand as it glided up and down his cock, he answered the phone. “Hey, Suzanne. What’s up?” He tried very hard to sound like someone who wasn’t watching their super-hot boyfriend jerk off two feet away from them.

  He tried really hard to concentrate on what Suzanne was saying. He really did. But Sergei was getting louder and moving faster. Seriously, how was Alex supposed to ignore that?

  He was muttering something about a teal and purple color scheme when Sergei stopped suddenly, his gaze landing on Alex like a brand. Alex’s mouth went dry as Sergei leaned forward onto his hands and knees and freaking crawled up the couch toward Alex.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” Suzanne asked.

  “Absolutely,” Alex lied. He grasped for the last words his brain had processed. “Food coloring.”

  Sergei yanked Alex’s pants down with no warning. “I am going to suck you now,” he said, dead serious.

  Holy fuck.

  His hot mouth closed over Alex’s cock. “Fuck!” Alex yelled.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Suzanne asked, concerned. “You okay?”

  Alex panted like a woman in labor on a sitcom. “No. I’m fine. Just, ah, fuck.” He stifled a moan as Sergei’s tongue did amazing things to him. “Babies are awake. Gotta. Go. Jesus Christ, Sergei,” he moaned as he hung up the phone. He was certain he heard Suzanne laughing.

  He didn’t care. Moaning, he buried his hands in Sergei’s hair and thrust up hard. All the points to Sergei. The whole game to Sergei. As Alex shoved his cock down Sergei’s throat, he couldn’t help but think there were no losers in the game. And that teal and purple would be a great color scheme for the party.

  Teal and purple was a horrible color scheme for a party. Seriously. Why hadn’t anyone told Alex that the sheer amount of food coloring it took to get frosting those colors would not only make the food taste like plastic, but stain pretty much any object it came in contact with?

  “I believe I did try and tell you that,” Suzanne pointed out as she tried to scrub the purple fingerprints off the countertop. “I think you might have been a little preoccupied at the time.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex said primly. Luckily, the ringing of the doorbell prevented him from having to address the issue further.

  “Hey,” Paul Dyson said as Alex opened the door. He held up a twelve-pack of beer. “We bought snacks.”

  “Nice outfit,” Robbie Rhodes said.

  Alex’s ringmaster’s outfit matched Tatyana’s. He’d tried to get Sergei to dress as a strongman, but he’d refused.

  “Oh. Hey.” Alex stepped out of the way to let Paul and Robbie in. Because of course it was both of them. He didn’t remember ever seeing one without the other. Even on the ice. He also didn’t remember inviting them to the party. Why would two twenty-something-year-olds want to come to a baby’s birthday party? And why would they think beer was a good thing to bring?

  “Where should we put the present and the food?” Robbie asked. He carried a wrapped box and a green plastic bowl with a white lid that presumably held some kind of salad that wouldn’t go with the menu Alex had meticulously planned and executed.

  “In the kitchen is good for both.”

  “Cool.” Paul patted him on the shoulder as he passed by.

  The next guest was Annette with not one but two extra children in tow. “My friend Melissa was having a nervous breakdown so I took her kids,” she explained, breezing past Alex. “Go play,” she instructed the kids, who looked to be about nine or ten.

  That was an age range Alex had no
t prepared for at all when he had prepared the exact number of gift bags, custom-tailored to each individual guest’s age and preference. Everyone knew you couldn’t give the same thing to a six-month old that you’d give to a three-year-old. Maybe he could find some candy for the kids?

  “I figured if you can’t take extra kids to a kids’ birthday party, where can you take them?” Annette was explaining.

  He looked around the room for Allie. Finding her, he waved her over.

  “What’s up?” She held Tatyana dressed like a little ringmaster, complete with a top hat clipped to her hair.

  “Surprise big kids.” Alex pointed at where Annette’s charges were sitting on one of the couches in the living room, already looking bored. “Can Daisy and Zane help keep them entertained?”

  Allie clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re on it, boss. Don’t worry.”

  As far as Alex was concerned, the day was all downhill from there.

  Some of the parents weren’t that interested in keeping their kids from bothering the cats. Unfortunately, Torvill and Dean were serious about their jobs as protectors of the twins, and refused to be locked away.

  Inevitably, some toddler grabbed Dean in just the wrong way and he yowled, swiping a paw at the grubby youngster. His claws were sheathed, but still Junior was scared and started to cry.

  Alex apologized, and the mom of the crying toddler apologized in return, explaining that Junior was usually ‘so good’ around animals, they had two cats of their own, he probably didn’t know he was being rough, and so on.

  Allie shut the cats into the nursery.

  It sounded like a perfect time for cake to Alex.

  He was herding everyone onto the back deck for cake cutting when Jennifer caught him. “Is the cake gluten free?” she asked. “I know it’s a bad time to ask. But I just remembered that you and Sergei are so new to this whole parenting thing, and probably don’t have a lot of experience. I mean, you’re two men, so really, how would you know? But Jonathan and Ashleigh are gluten-sensitive.” She looked at the teal and purple cake surrounded by more fondant animals than Alex could count and topped with a circuit tent, and actually wrinkled her nose.

  Alex was going to punch her.

  “Mother, can we have cake?” Ashleigh asked, her blue eyes big and watery. “Is it gluten-free?” She turned to Alex. “I can’t have gluten. I’m sensitive.”

  I bet you are, Alex thought. “Hold on,” he said out loud. Searching for options, he spotted Paul and Robbie playing Nerf floor hockey in the living room. Dodging a foam ball, he sidled up to Paul. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure thing, dude.” Paul tucked the plastic hockey stick under his arm and smiled at Alex. “Whaddya need? More beer? Candy?” Robbie tried to pull the hockey stick away from Paul, and Paul grabbed him in a headlock without losing eye contact with Alex.

  He really was very good-looking, and that Alabama accent…anyway, what had Alex been asking him? Oh, yeah. “Can you run down to the store and pick up,” Alex did a quick head count, “two gluten-free birthday cakes?”

  “Sure, no problem.” Paul let Robbie up for air.

  “Awesome.” He started to pull his wallet out from his pocket and Robbie stopped him. “We got it. Don’t worry. We kind of crashed your party anyway. It’s the least we can do.”

  Daniel Lipe waddled past them, bent over and holding the hands of a small child who was balanced on Lipe’s feet like a baby penguin. The kid was laughing its head off. “Great party,” Lipe said. “Pergov’s never had people over before. Good job teaching him how to be a human.” Lipe’s passenger pointed imperiously and Lipe waddled away.

  A burst of laugher from outside grabbed Alex’s attention. One of the younger hockey players—and seriously, who invited them?—was bouncing on the rented trampoline with some of the older kids.

  The kids were flying up into the air and stumbling around, shrieking with laughter. That wasn’t good. Even with the safety netting, someone was going to break a leg.

  “Sergei!” Alex yelled across the yard, waving him over.

  Sergei carried Tatyana in his arms.

  “Hey, babycakes,” Alex said with a smile as he took her from Sergei. She looked wide-eyed at all the excitement. Grabbing on to Alex’s hair with one hand, she waved the other hand excitedly all around while she babbled something incomprehensible. “I know,” Alex agreed. “So many people! More than me and your daddy planned for.”

  “Everyone is having great time,” Sergei said. He leaned down and kissed Alex, wrapping an arm around him. Someone in the yard wolf-whistled. “Keep it PG, dude!” a man yelled. “Think of the children!” Everyone laughed.

  “No way. Crank that heat up,” Suzanne Lipe said from close by. “Think of the moms.”

  Tanya giggled and squealed, so Sergei and Alex attacked her with giggles and kisses. There was a shriek and a collective male inhale of breath from the direction of the trampoline.

  Alex closed his eyes and breathed deeply before forcing himself to see what was going on. The hockey bro from the trampoline was handing out a few of the smaller kids to the nearest adults. “I think they’re fine, man. They just got a little scared. Hey, little dudes,” he said to the shell-shocked kidlets, “come back later when these big, scary kids are gone and we’ll have some fun, okay?”

  The dazed preschoolers walked back to the house. As the parade of traumatized children clomped across the deck, Alex heard a crash, a horrible yowling sound, and a woman shrieking, “Ignatius Bartholomew! Leave that cat alone!”

  Even Sergei looked alarmed at that one. They both rushed into the house just in time to see a teal-and-purple-striped Torvill emerge from the ruins of the circus cake and go streaking across the floor leaving garish footprints in her wake.

  “Who let the cats out?” Alex shouted.

  One of the dizzy three year olds took one look and puked all over the rug. Lipe laughed so hard, he collapsed onto the nearest sofa.

  Alex wasn’t sure if he should scream, cry, or pretend everything was just fine. Sergei’s hand landed heavily on Alex’s shoulder.

  “It’s ruined,” Alex said, voice flat. “This is the worst party ever. I’m a joke.”

  “No. No, Lyosha. Is funny.”

  “The cake is ruined. Which is fine because apparently it’s chock-full of gluten which is just so 2003 of me. Kids are puking and the cat and half the house are now stained permanently teal. Which part of that is funny?” His voice dared Sergei to answer the question.

  Sergei switched tactics. “It is okay, ziachik, nobody cares. It doesn’t matter anyway if cake is smashed. Is just baby party.”

  33

  Sergei

  “Ah, man, you did not just say that,” Danny Lipe said as Sergei watched Suzanne and Annette quickly hustle Alex away.

  “What did I say? I say something wrong?” Sergei asked.

  Gabriel Jansson shook his head. “Dude, Annette would kick me in the balls if I said something like that.”

  “You know what, Pergs, I saw Dyson carrying in some beers. Let’s see if we can’t find them, and we’ll talk.” Lipe pushed Sergei back into the house.

  Allie came into the room carrying Tatyana and David. She was stronger than she looked. “What’s wrong with Alex? He looked like he was near tears.”

  Sergei could see on her face the moment she discovered the remains of the cat-cake disaster.

  “Oh, no!”

  “Yes.”

  “Pergs told his boy the party didn’t matter and no one cared,” Lipe told Allie.

  “Oh, no. Sergei.” Allie sounded disappointed.

  Lipe slapped Sergei on the back. “I’m just glad it’s not me in trouble this time, big guy.” He nodded towards the backyard and the gaggle of players and kids scattered there. “Hey, Allie, would you mind keeping an eye on these losers out here while me and Jansson have a talk with Pergs? I think Donovan’s around somewhere, too. He can help. Oh, and…” He looked around the yard, and found his olde
st son near the ice rink helping a younger kid lace up some skates. “Nate!” he yelled.

  “Help this nice lady with the kids and my uncivilized teammates for a minute, would you?”

  Nate nodded. “No problem, Dad.”

  “Oldest of four,” Lipe explained, turning back to Sergei. “Very useful. The other ones, not so much. Let’s talk.”

  Things looked fairly calm to Sergei. There were enough adults to monitor the kids. The children were playing or eating, or in a few cases, napping on piles of coats. Adults were talking and mingling.

  “I don’t see what is so wrong,” Sergei said, taking the cold beer Lipe handed him. “Everyone is having fun. It is just party. Not playoff game.”

  “Okay,” Gabe said, pointing his beer bottle at Sergei. “That right there? Even if it’s true, and even if Alex will eventually realize it, that’s not a good thing to say here. Have you been in a relationship before?”

  “No,” Sergei admitted. “Not like this. Tell me what I am doing wrong.”

  Gabe and Lipe nodded as if his lack of experience explained everything.

  “Let me see if I can help.” Lipe said. “You know how it is when you put yourself out there in any way, shape, or form. You’re asking for people to judge you. It’s scary. To you and me, it’s just a party. For Alex, it’s showing that he can control this aspect of adulthood in this way. It’s not about the fact that he doesn’t want the party to go bad, it’s that he wants to have more control over his life. He doesn’t want to feel like life is just chaos and it doesn’t matter if he tries to plan around it or not. He wants to feel like the things he is doing and trying make a difference. He wants to be important.”

  Jannson’s mouth hung open. “Dude. That was…that was fucking impressive. Teach me your ways before Annette and I get married. I’ll get so many good husband points.”

  Lipe laughed. “I’ll tell you a secret, kid. All you gotta do is—and I know this is crazy talk—all you gotta do is listen to them when they talk. And really care about them as people, not as your wife or your kids’ mom. But actual real people with their own lives.”