Authors: Cassandra Carr
Jason was seriously losing his mind. That and developing carpal tunnel syndrome in his right hand and forearm. He couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick and how hot it had been to be in the other man’s arms. The number of times he’d relived that mutual suck-off in his hotel room could only be considered embarrassing.
The season had begun, and the Olympics were three months away. Jason had hoped that the time and space between him in New Jersey and Patrick in Philadelphia would give him an opportunity to get over this—crush? obsession?—but it didn’t look likely at this point. At least he had something to focus on.
This year Jason was expected to be one-half of New Jersey’s shut-down defensive pairing while also potting forty to fifty points. He was fine with increased expectations and responsibility. It made coming to the rink every day a challenge. So while he was at the rink, things were fine. But those long plane rides and the endless periods of time the team spent waiting for something: a bus, their luggage, whatever—that’s when the memories hit him in the face.
The team had just returned from a short road trip up to Boston and Montreal to start the season. They’d won one and lost one, not a bad record for the road, but Jason wasn’t happy with his play. After practice the next day, he stayed out on the ice with one of the assistant coaches, working on his positioning. He hadn’t forgotten what Patrick had said about that, either, or what other advice the older man had given him.
Now he was standing underneath the hot spray in the shower of the locker room, his head bent as water cascaded down his neck and then his back.
Jason wondered if Patrick hooked up with a lot of guys and then just dropped them. He didn’t seem like the type, but how well did Jason really know him? It wasn’t like he could even condemn the man if he kept his affairs brief and impersonal, either, since that was Jason’s standard operating procedure too. But he’d thought the night at camp and the kiss before that had meant more.
Ugh, do I even want it to mean more? What am I, some girl looking for a fat diamond and a white picket fence?
He figured maybe he was a girl, as he spent way too much time vacillating, trying to decide what he wanted. It had to stop. Shutting off the shower, Jason reached outside the stall and grabbed a towel, quickly drying himself before returning to the dressing room to change back into street clothes. After picking up a take-out salad, he lumbered home and stretched out on the couch with the remote, the salad perched on his belly.
The cell phone in his pocket rang, nearly dislodging his lunch. Jason cursed, grabbing the salad with one hand and the phone with the other. The number wasn’t one he recognized, and he frowned. He should just let it go to voice mail, but the last time he’d done that with an unfamiliar number, he’d gotten nine increasingly agitated messages from some dude named Damone.
He decided to answer, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. “Yeah?” The word came out as more of a growl than an actual word, but he didn’t care. Jason was hungry, and
Survivorman
was starting.
“Jason?”
“Who’s this?”
“Patrick.”
Shit.
“Oh, uh, hi.”
“Hi. Listen, we need to talk.” “Okay.” Jason speared a couple of
Even through the phone line, it was obvious how nervous he was, so Jason deduced this call had nothing to do with the Olympic team.
Jason’s eyebrows drew down. “What do you mean? Like am I hurt or something? No. Why?”
“That wasn’t what I meant. Listen, it’s been hell being without you. I know we only had a brief…thing…going.”
Patrick blew out an audible breath, and Jason stabbed more pieces of lettuce as he waited for the man to continue.
“But I still want you. A lot. Pretty much all the fucking time, and it’s driving me insane.”
Jason was glad this wasn’t a onesided thing, but even so, what the hell could they do about it now? And should they?
“I’ve been thinking about you too.” The admission didn’t cost him anything, and he owed it to Patrick to be honest with him.
“That night in the hotel was one of the hottest things I’ve ever done.” He felt a blush creeping up as he remembered how good Patrick’s dick had felt in his mouth and how hard he’d shot down the other man’s throat. Jason barely held in a groan.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Most of my experiences have been suck-offs in bar bathrooms and stuff.” He laughed. “Actually, that was the first time in a while that I’ve had sex in a bed. That makes me sound like such a man whore. I’m really not. Far from it, as a matter of fact.”
“No, I’m sure you’re not. You’re a professional athlete in a difficult position.”
A weight lifted off Jason’s shoulders. Finally somebody understood. He put the salad down on the coffee table and sat up.
“I know. I just sometimes feel like a fraud.”
“You’re not. The dynamics in the sport make it necessary for us to lie, whether we like it or not, whether we want to or not. And the way I look at it, you’re an incredibly hot, really nice man I like a lot.”
“I like you too.”
“What are you thinking about? You sound…I don’t know…disconnected or something.”
Now Jason blew out a breath.
Might as well go for it
. “I was thinking about you, and how much I want you again. How much I liked what we did. How much I want to do it again. I know I shouldn’t—”
“Oh,
fuck
.” Patrick let out a low growl. “Seriously? My dick just got hard as I listened to you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And you’re not here to do anything about it.”
I want him. I fucking want him
now.
Closing his eyes, knowing this was a hugely bad decision and not giving a shit, Jason asked, “What would you want me to do about it?”
Patrick groaned. “You’re killing me. I’d love to see your mouth wrapped around my dick again. I just about shot as soon as I saw that the last time.”
For some reason, hearing Patrick say that made Jason feel really good. It wasn’t like he spent a lot of time sucking cock, and hearing he didn’t, well, suck at it was pretty cool.
“So fucking good. You have no idea.”
Patrick paused, and Jason waited him out. He obviously had something on his mind. After a moment, Patrick spoke again.
“I, um, wanted to propose something.”
“I’m listening.”
“Both of us have a lot to lose, and I think we can help each other.”
Patrick’s words tumbled over each other, and Jason had to concentrate to understand him. Curiosity and horniness got the best of him. “How so?”
“I’m looking at your schedule. You have a three-day break at home early next week. I just checked, and Philly is off that Monday too. Would you meet me after practice at a hotel somewhere in between there and here? I know neither of us could stay all night, and I’m not even sure you’d want to, but I think it would help us work through some of this stuff.”
Patrick paused, and Jason’s cock jumped inside his sweats. See Patrick again? So soon? Before he realized his mouth had opened, he answered, “Yeah, sure.”
They hung up soon after that, and as Jason tossed his phone onto the coffee table at his right, the doubts crept in. What if someone saw them? What if Patrick wanted his ass? He wasn’t at all sure he could give that up, no matter how hot the man was. Would he be expecting cuddling and shit afterward, or was this a fuck-and-run thing?
His salad forgotten, Jason closed his eyes, willing his straining erection to calm down. He still had five days before he’d be seeing the other man, and he didn’t need to deal with a constant woody. Unfortunately, his dick had other plans, and finally Jason gave up trying to ignore it and grabbed a couple of tissues. Pushing his sweats down and then catching the hem of his shirt with his chin, Jason grabbed his aching hardon and began roughly pulling. There was no time for a gradual work-up. He needed to come now.
Imagining his hand was Patrick’s mouth did it, and he soon erupted, making a mess on his hand and abs. Jason milked the final few drops out and then fell back against the arm of the couch. Postorgasmic bliss sounded pretty good right about then, but rapidly drying cum getting sticky did not, so he used his stash of tissues and then went to the bathroom to clean up further. It was going to be a long five days.
Finally.
Finally the wait was over, and he was about to see Jason. Patrick knew he shouldn’t be so excited and that it was dangerous to go down that road, but hell, no matter how many times he told himself to forget about Jason his body betrayed him, mocking him with erections at inopportune times and generally making a nuisance of itself.
Patrick had chosen a Marriott in downtown Trenton, New Jersey, not far from the freeway. He’d left as soon as practice ended and checked in. Then he texted Jason with the room number and began to pace.
A knock at the door a while later was either Jason or his sanity, or both, since they appeared to be one and the same, and he hurried to open it.
Ah, Jason
. He stood there in well-worn jeans and a Henley, his thumbs tucked into his front pockets and an uncertain smile on his face.
“Get in here,” Patrick ordered, his voice thick and rasping, and Jason stepped inside. Patrick closed the door and slammed Jason into the wall by the bathroom. A little yelp left him. Aghast, Patrick stepped back. “Did I hurt you?”
“Surprised me.”
“Fuck, you look good.”
“So do you.”
“Sure I didn’t hurt you? That’d be all we’d need.”
“I’m fine. I’m a big boy.”
Patrick nodded. “Fuck, yes, you are. Good, because I don’t think I can hold off any longer.”
Stepping closer once more so that he was flush with the man, Patrick wrapped his hand around the back of Jason’s neck and attacked his lips. When Jason opened to the invasion of his tongue, he couldn’t stop the moan of absolute need. Why did he want this man so much? For years he’d been perfectly content with short-term, no-strings affairs. Now that life seemed shallow and cold. The man Patrick had his hands on currently wasn’t cold. Jason was as hot as a damn firecracker, and Patrick hoped he wouldn’t get burned.
After long moments of the two of them battling for dominance of the kiss, Jason turned his head to the side, gasping for air.
“Move back.”
He did so immediately, and Jason dropped to his knees. “Shit!” He’d worn track pants, figuring they’d be easier to get out of, and he was right, as with one good yank, Jason had them and his boxers at his knees and Patrick’s dick in his throat. Had he been practicing deep throating? Because he was fucking good at it for someone who said he never sucked cock. Patrick could only prop himself up with one hand on the wall and plow the other one through Jason’s hair as the younger man licked and sucked like he was starving for cock.
He knew he would come soon if he didn’t stop Jason. Patrick began to pull back, but the other man kept a firm hold on the base of his shaft. Letting go for a minute, Jason looked up at him.
“Let me finish you. I know it’s crazy, but I’m craving your taste.”
Patrick groaned. With a request like that, how could he refuse? He couldn’t even begin to want to refuse Jason. Thrusting back inside, Patrick put all his weight on the hand on the wall holding him up and fucked Jason’s mouth with long, measured thrusts. Several pumps later he stiffened, coming up on tiptoe, and spilled his seed onto Jason’s waiting tongue.
Stumbling backward, his bare ass scraped along the rough paint on the opposite wall. He nearly killed himself as he got caught up in his pants and underwear, but didn’t care one iota. That was the best freaking blowjob he’d had in years. He wanted more, but that would have to wait. He wasn’t twentytwo like his counterpart. After pulling up his pants, Patrick ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.
“I can’t…” He tried again. “I’m speechless.”
He sensed Jason rising. Patrick cracked open one eye and caught the shit-eating grin the younger man tried to hide.
“That good, huh?”
“Pretty sure you sucked my balls right out of my body.”
“Don’t think so.” Jason reached a hand between Patrick’s legs and squeezed gently. “Nope, they’re still there.”
The only answer Patrick could formulate to that statement was a grunt. As he pushed off the wall and forced himself to walk toward one of the chairs next to the bed, he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“We didn’t make it past the foyer.”
“We’re past it now.”
Patrick sat and regarded Jason, who’d slid into the desk chair, his legs spread to lewdly display his swollen cock through his jeans. “Strip and get on the bed.”
One thick eyebrow rose, but Jason did as he asked.
“Hands and knees.”
“Uh—”
“Relax. I don’t recover that quickly anymore, and I don’t intend to fuck you until or unless you’re ready. I’ll only know that when you start begging.” Jason snorted, and Patrick popped him a hard spank. A satisfying red handprint rose on the pale skin of his ass. “Behave.” Jason snorted again, and Patrick grabbed his cock and balls in one hand, holding them and exerting a slight pressure before landing a couple more spanks.
“Okay, okay.”
“Put your face down on the bed. That’ll make things easier.”
With a quick backward glance, Jason lowered his head.
“Good. Now just feel.” What Patrick had in mind would hopefully relax Jason enough that he’d let Patrick fuck him. If not, that was okay too. Keeping a looser hold on Jason’s dick and his full, heavy balls, he used his other hand to pull one ass cheek to the side. Patrick pushed his tongue into the man’s cleft before reaching his pucker. Jason jerked when Patrick touched it with the tip of his tongue. “Easy, baby.”
Why the fuck did I just call him
baby?
With an eye roll to himself, he bent to his task once more, working Jason and feeling the other man relax by degrees.
“I’ve never done that,” Jason mumbled when Patrick pulled away.
“Done it or had it done to you?”
“Either.”
“Feel free to try it if you want to explore. If not, no biggie.” Spearing his tongue into Jason’s now relaxed hole, he then wiggled it, and Jason moaned.
“How can that feel so good?”
Patrick moved away just enough to say, “Lots of nerve endings there.”
“Apparently fucking millions.”
If Patrick hadn’t been so focused on what he was doing, he would’ve laughed, but instead he continued to work the younger man. Jason began to squirm. Patrick let his balls go and concentrated on Jason’s dick, steadily jacking it while continuing his torment of the younger man’s anus. “Come for me.” That seemed to be all it took.
“Yes…” Jason hissed as his release began. Patrick continued to stroke him, both front and back, until Jason pulled away. “Too much.”
Patrick let him turn over and flop onto his back. “Watch me.”
He held up his cum-covered hand and began to methodically lick. Jason’s heavy-lidded gaze followed the movements of his tongue, and when Patrick licked up a big dollop and made a show of pulling it into his mouth, Jason moaned.
“You’re killing me. Why is that so fucking sexy?”
Finishing his personal cleanup duty, Patrick walked into the bathroom and returned a short time later with a wet washcloth. Jason took it, swiping over his abs and dick before tossing it on the end table. Patrick sat down on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed.
“Feel better?”
“After I come about a dozen more times, yeah, I should feel a little better.”
Patrick barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure what I can do about a dozen, but I’m not surprised you’re aiming high.”
“Hey, Coach always tells us to aim high.”
After the words left his mouth, Jason turned his gaze away from Patrick’s, but Patrick wasn’t having that. He would not let Jason be ashamed of who he was or what he was doing. If anything, Patrick should be feeling shame for dallying with a player on a team he was an advisor for, who just happened to be, oh, fifteen years younger.
“Don’t hide from me. If something is bothering you, spit it out.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this. You know that as well as I do.”
“No, what I know is that we’re both consenting adults, and what we do away from the rink is nobody’s business but our own.”
Jason eyes narrowed. “Does that help you sleep at night?”
“No, jerking off to images of you sucking my dick helps me sleep at night.” Patrick ran the tips of his fingers down the side of Jason’s face, and though he flinched a little, Jason allowed the contact. “Hey. Don’t be ashamed. You can’t help what you are any more than a man can help what color his skin is.”
“Oh, so now you’re all out and proud?”
Patrick felt his eyebrows draw down. “No, but let me ask you this. How many people know you’re gay?” Before Jason could answer, Patrick continued. “Let me rephrase that. How many people you actually know and interact with know you’re gay?”
“Two. Well, three if I include myself.”
Sure he hadn’t heard correctly, Patrick repeated it. “Three?”
Jason’s gaze slid away before returning to his with obvious reluctance. “Yeah. Me and you and that guy I messed around with in juniors. He probably thinks I’m bi, though.”
Patrick sat up straight. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Jason rolled over to the other side of the bed and rose, grabbing his jeans.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look, it’s not something I talk about. Ever. It just…is.” Jason speared Patrick with a look. “How many people know about you?”
Patrick paused for a moment, considering, while Jason pulled his briefs and jeans back on. He took a second to mourn the loss of the sight of Jason’s naked body laid out for his perusal but forced himself back to the conversation. “Um, offhand, I’d say about twenty.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Twenty?”
“Yeah. Both of my parents know, my siblings—I have two sisters and a brother—and their spouses. That’s eight right there. If I count myself like you counted yourself, that’s nine. Then there’s my two road roommates while I was playing—”
“Hold the phone. Your teammates knew?”
He shrugged. “They were both cool guys, and I trusted them.”
“How did you know they wouldn’t go blabbing it to the rest of the team?”
“Because I knew
them
. One of them had a gay brother, and the other had broken up a gay bashing back when he was in juniors. Neither of them would’ve outed me.” Gentling his voice, he said, “So your parents don’t even know?”
Jason curled up in the arm chair behind him, clearly uncomfortable with the current topic. But this was important, and Patrick wasn’t letting it go until Jason made him.
“My dad is a construction supervisor. I haven’t heard him say anything outright homophobic, but the couple of times I helped out on the crew when I was still in juniors, I heard plenty from the other guys. Not directed at me, of course.” He shrugged, but the gesture wasn’t casual. “My mom is really insecure. I thought if I told her, she’d blame herself or worry about what other people thought about it. I just didn’t want to have to go through that kinda hassle.”
“But what about friends? Other family members?” Jason shook his head, and a profound wave of sadness rolled over Patrick. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is.”
“I totally killed the mood. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s actually kind of nice to just be here and not have to look over my shoulder every second or worry about what people are seeing in my eyes or my body language, you know?”
“I do.” Patrick left the bed and approached Jason. “I can be your safe harbor. If you want.”
Jason smiled. “I’d like that.”
Patrick pulled the desk chair over to face him. “Now how about you take those pesky pants back off so I can lick you like my own personal ice-cream cone?”
“That’s a horrible line.”
“But it got you smiling, which was all it was supposed to do.” Jason let Patrick pull him out of the chair, and Patrick made short work of his pants before Jason could change his mind. Pushing the younger man gently onto the bed, Patrick stood back and gave him a slow perusal. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”
Jason smirked. “Ditto.”
Patrick approached Jason once more and straddled him. “So you don’t mind that I’m a little older than you?”
“A little older? Try way older.”
In response, Patrick tweaked Jason’s nipple. Hard.
“Ow. And apparently crotchety.”
“Oh, the hockey player knows big words.”
“My mom’s an English teacher. You should see the words I can pull out of my ass.”
“I’d rather put something
in
your ass.”
Jason stiffened. “About that…” “Yeah?”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“You mean like never?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But the whole thing kind of freaks me out.”
“You don’t have to. And if you did decide to, I’d prepare you so good you’d be begging me to slide my cock into your tight little hole.” Patrick thrust against Jason as he said the words, and Jason’s mouth opened.
“Why aren’t you naked too? I meant to ask you about that, but you distracted me.”
“You want me naked? Take off my clothes.” The sentence had barely left his mouth when Jason flipped them, ending up on top.
“Old man.” He gave Patrick a shiteating grin. “Sit up.” After pulling Patrick’s shirt over his head, Jason then shimmied down to the end of the bed, where he hopped off and reached for Patrick’s pants, leaving him in boxers.
“Apparently you haven’t grasped the concept of naked.”
Jason laughed. “Patience, patience.” Then he slid his hands up Patrick’s legs, pushing them until they were bent ninety degrees before spreading them wide and crawling between on his knees.
When the other man’s tongue skated from the inside of his knee, up his thigh, and right into the leg hole of his boxers, Patrick sighed. “Okay, I’ll stop complaining. But I thought I was supposed to be licking
you
.”
“Shh.” Jason’s nose was nudging the fabric up, and the tip of his tongue ran over the side of Patrick’s now halfhard shaft before briefly flicking one of his balls.