Point Shot 01 - Two Man Advantage (5 page)

My climax snuck up and nearly blindsided me as I looked down on him clenching to keep me inside. I came at the same time Buttonwood did. Our captain bellowed like a bull. I hissed, grabbed Dan by the hair, and pumped away. Arou trembled beneath me, his face buried in his forearm as he blew his wad all over his hand and the dresser drawers.

My legs were weak. I slid an arm around Dan, backpedaled still buried in his ass, then fell backward onto his bare bed. He twitched and writhed, still caught in his release. I rolled him to the side, pushing my rapidly deflating dick deeper. I licked a path up his shoulder to his ear. The man sighed and shuddered. I swatted his sticky hand aside to give him a few last strokes. His semen was warm and tacky as I ran my palm back and forth over the sensitive head of his cock.

When he tried to leave my arms, I battled with him. The man is like a bulldog—tough, tenacious and filled with testosterone, but moving through life on short legs. It took all I had to wrestle him onto his back. My dick was flaccid and resting on his upper thigh. It was time to take care of things. Tossing the used Trojan in the tiny brown trashcan beside the bed, I kneeled above him, his wrists in my hands. I dropped my head to kiss him. His lips were firm at first. Then he acquiesced.

“I want to be inside you again,” I whispered over his mouth.

He snaked a leg around my waist, using his heel and powerful leg muscles to push my pelvis against his. We both trembled with want. He lifted his ass from the bed. Our pricks rubbed, head to head. Blood began to flow south. “I want you in this bed,” I said, then nipped his neck. If I’d had fangs, I’d have been drinking from his throbbing vein as I fucked him silly.

This was obviously one of those really bad kind of sex things. Generally I can fuck someone, say thanks, then send them on their way. Every once in a while someone will come along who makes me nuttier than a shithouse rat, and I end up spewing stupid shit at them like some needy little sticky-fingered kid.

“I want you in this bed in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dan sighed, his own needs obviously being met by my desire to keep him close as we slept. I buried my face in his neck, dropping kisses down to his collarbone then coming back to sample his mouth again and again.

When I took him the second time, it was slower. We didn’t use protection. We had managed to have that awkward relay of medical clearance as we made out. He was braced under me on his hands and knees. I pulled his head around to the side time after time, needing to have his mouth while I moved inside him. I came strongly, grinding into him as he held the headboard away from the wall. After sliding out of him, I tossed him onto his back.

His body got well loved. I kissed and tongued every inch of Dan Arou. From his earlobes to his toes, I tasted and learned. When I finally got to his prick, it was purplish with fat veins and rich with blood. His orgasm was wild when it slammed into him. He held my head in a death grip, ripping out some hair as he thrust in and out of my mouth. My eyes watered. I reveled in the salty thick zest of him on my tongue.

“Arou?” I whispered when we were tucked into my bed, his ass against my groin. We lay facing the bathroom. The shower was now quiet, thanks to Dan thundering into the bathroom after we’d blown our wads to turn off the taps while bitching about me wasting water. My arm was around him. We smelled of sex. It was intoxicating to me, having his scent so enmeshed with mine. Fuck me. This was a bad sex thing beyond the usual bad sex things.

“Yeah, Kalinski,” he replied groggily.

Someone pulled in to the hotel, their headlights slowly moving across the room through the drapes. Car doors closed. Silence returned after a door slammed.

“You’ll be here in the morning, yeah?”

The sheets were stiff and scratchy. The cover was not thick enough. The bedding smelled like sweaty men, sin and lemon industrial detergent.

“Yeah, I’ll be here in the morning, Vic.”

“Okay.” I placed my lips to his hair. I tucked him closer. “Okay, yeah, that’s cool.”

Chapter Six

Generally I’m not a dreamer. Why that is, I don’t know. I’m just a “fall asleep when my head hits the pillow” kind of guy, I guess. My mother used to berate me about having bad dreams, telling me it was a sign of a guilty conscience. I think she just hated having a kid shaking her, and whatever drunk she had brought home, awake at three in the a.m. Whatever the reason for dreams, or the lack of them, the one I had previous to waking up in a cold sweat was a real motherfucker.

This dream was graphically lifelike. It was one of those realistic shitters that leaves you confused, panting and looking around your dark room for the monster pursuing you. Only there had been no monster, not in the classic sense. No zombies, lycans or vampires had been chasing me.

I was chasing Arou through a swamp. I shouted for him to stop but he didn’t. How the hell he could outrun me on legs as short as his, I didn’t know, but he did. I ran into a glade. My feet became trapped in the bog. Shouting his name as I clawed to free my feet from the mossy tendrils, I saw his glowing lazuli eyes shimmering in the black heart of this demented bayou. He ran off. I screamed, rasping and gasping at the sudden pain in my breast. I reached up from the brackish water to clutch my chest. My hand sank into my chest cavity. Dan Arou had torn out my heart and left with it.

His arm over my chest felt like a constrictor. I bolted out of bed, my head still muddled with sleep. My fingers moved jerkily over my left pectoral, where the gaping hole Arou had made in the dream had been. I felt firm muscle covered with skin and springy red hair. Not a bloody hole. Not a fucking bloody hole. It took all I had not to break out in a joyous nervous giggle.

Dan rolled onto his back, throwing his beefy arm over his closed eyes to block out the sun streaming through the cheap drapes. I stood beside the bed, panting and patting my chest. A moment passed. He lowered his arm. I stepped back, my palm out, in search of the wall to hold me up.

“You look like you just saw my grandmother naked,” he said, his sleepy voice appealing to the extreme. My mouth and brain weren’t cooperating. Dan sat up. The covers slid down over his chest. I watched them glide over his darkly furred abdomen then puddle atop his groin. I turned around, my cock beginning to thicken. Fuck, this guy was rapidly becoming as addictive as crack cocaine.

“What time is it?” I asked as I grabbed my watch from the nightstand then gave it a look. “We have to be on the bus in thirty minutes.”

My heart was still tripping rapidly inside me when his hand ran down my back then cupped my right buttock. I lurched away from him and his touch, spinning as I stumbled away. Dan’s face was dark with new whiskers. His eyebrows knitted.

“We have to be on the bus in—”

“I heard you,” he said, his nostrils flaring as he began to pick up the vibe I was throwing out. I glanced down at the watch in my hand again. “So this is how you want it? This is just about having a fuck-buddy for the road?”

I shrugged a shoulder. Dan sucked in a sharp breath as if I had slapped him or something. I made myself look at the man. His head was shaking in disbelief. His brow was deeply furrowed.

My gut rolled over on itself. I scratched my chest. “I don’t do emotional shit.”

He blinked a few times, then his jaw set tightly.

“We can still room together. I really like what we do to each other.”

Dan threw back his shoulders. God above, his body was a fucking work of art. Looking at him was like admiring some dark-haired dwarven warrior. He was thickly roped with muscle, with fiery eyes and bubbling anger just under the surface. All the man was missing was a beard, some finely crafted armor, a battle axe and a blond elfin companion to trade good-natured barbs with. My dick was stiff. He did not pretend not to notice how aroused I was. How could he?

“So I’m good enough to fuck but not wake up with, is that right?” he asked sharply.

His attitude instantly set me off. I tossed the watch at him. “If I wanted estrogen-laced BS at seven in the a.m., I would have fucked a chick,” I commented as I walked around him. I needed to piss. That would be tricky at the moment.

Closing the bathroom door in his face, I turned on the shower. My body was tacky with sweat and semen. Under the flow I stepped. This time he didn’t come in. Ten minutes later I stepped from the steam, towel around waist, to find him gone. No note. No goodbye. Just an empty two-star hotel room with the clinging aroma of our shared passion on the heated air.

I raced outside, bare-footed, in nothing but a towel. Buttonwood was just leaving his room, his eyes carrying bigger bags than our equipment manager. A gust of wind right off a fucking iceberg roared up under my towel. My balls climbed into my body for the duration.

The captain of the Cougars looked at me with an arched brow. “You’re going to freeze your nuts off, Kalinski,” he said, turning to pull the door to his room closed against the wind. “You looking for your boyfriend?” he asked, meeting my look over his shoulder.

There were two ways to handle this. Since neither Dan nor I was out, I could either deny or confront verbally. Being who I am…

“You need to worry about your own nuts, Buttonwood, or more precisely what your wife is going to do to them when she gets an anonymous call telling her about your philandering ways. Oh yeah, I went there, and I will
so
make the call if I hear one word about Arou.” Arms folded over my naked chest, I sneered at the fucker, daring him to retaliate.

To his credit, he did manage to look contrite. “Maybe you and him were watching porn last night and that was what I heard.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, stepping aside to let him pass. “And maybe I was mistaken about which room you were in. See you at practice, Cap.”

Buttonwood walked off, his shoulders up to his ears. I stalked back into the room I shared with Dan, slammed the door, then put my fist into a wall. Or four.

When I boarded the bus ten minutes later, right hand wrapped in an old Ace bandage, I saw the top of Dan’s head in the last seat. I sat down behind the driver, my gear still stowed in the hold of the couch. I burrowed into my coat. The last few stragglers ambled onto the bus, the door hissed shut and we headed to the stadium.

Laughter broke out at the rear of the bus. I slunk down in my seat even farther. That was a pretty common sound around Arou, I was noticing. He seemed to be the joker of the team. Not wishing to hear Dan and his primate posse yukking it up in the rear, I pulled out my MP3 player, shoved the earbuds in and cranked up Bullet For My Valentine’s “Waking the Demon”.

* * * * *

My chest hit the boards soundly. My forehead impacted the glass with such force it jarred me into a full moment of dizziness. I slid to the ice, my stick dropping from my hand, and tried to locate who had just cross-checked me from behind so violently. The puck I had been after skittered away, kicked aside by my skate as I crumpled to the ice. Coach was shouting. A whistle blew. I lay on my back trying to figure out how a simple gold versus blue scrimmage game had become so dangerous. Someone started asking me who I was. Dan Arou stood over me, his eyes unreadable. I tried to concentrate on what the trainer with the rotten breath was saying, but I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened.

“Did you fucking hit me from behind?” I asked. Dan skated off. I shoved away the stocky dude trying to look into my eyes.

“Okay, now
that
is not what I want to see on the ice tonight!” Lambert was bellowing from somewhere to the right. My sight was stuck on number twenty-eight. “Arou, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Coach, just got caught up in the game is all,” Dan replied.

I took the hand offered. My skates were a little wobbly at first. My eyes kept showing me two of everything, but after a few seconds things were back to normal.

Lambert appeared in front of me, briskly rubbing his left eyebrow. “You okay, Kalinski?” he asked.

I nodded gingerly, hoping the jar to my head didn’t put me out with a concussion. The C-word is a dreaded one for any athlete. A concussed player can be out for a season, or be forced into retirement at a young age if they can’t shake the brain injury as they should. And to be back-ended, and not in a good way, by a dude I had slept with the night before? Seriously, what the
fuck,
you know?

Coach didn’t look totally convinced, but after a rather vocal discussion in which I demonstrated my mastery of language and expletives aimed at Lambert’s mother as well as his fat wife, he skated off muttering about how if my brain were glop at least my mouth would be shut. Yeah, as if a bruised brain would shut my mouth. Get real.

The scrimmage went on after that without any major hits. I met Arou coming off the ice. The rest of the guys stalled when I grabbed him by his arm.

“I need to talk to you.” That was all I said as I held on tightly to his gold jersey. He motioned the rest of the team on with a jerk of his head. We skated over to the Zamboni gate, helmets and mouth protectors in hand. When the last player and member of staff had left the home ice of the Waconia Wasps, I rounded on Dan like a rabid badger. “You care to tell me exactly what the
fuck
your problem with me is?”

His handsome face screwed up in rage. “Man, I can’t
believe
you!” he hissed, his gloved hands flying around wildly. “You and me spend all night in bed, then when I touch you the following morning you act like I’m some sort of walking syphilis sore!”

I threw a fast look around the stadium. No one could be seen.

“Okay, for starters, you need to calm the fuck down,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I don’t think either of us is ready to pull a Cliff Dwayne.”

Cliff Dwayne was the premier goalie in the minors who had come out in a big way after winning the championship with the Mount Royal Mounties the year before. As one of the B people in LGBT, I’d been thrilled to see Dwayne and his partner step out of the closet. What that move would mean for him, though, remained to be seen. He was still in the minors. Why and how I did not know, but I wasn’t taking the chance of having my career ruined by the wrong person overhearing this fucking Degrassi-style spat. When I came out, it was going to be on my own terms. That was how Vic Kalinski rolled.