No Pucks (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #1)

12. Logan

TWELVE

LOGAN

A nthony’s steps falter, and he studies me. “You know I can’t be seen in the dorms.”

“It’s not like a traditional dorm room, silly. My mother wants me to be normal, but they are more like shared townhouses, so I have my own space.”

“Do you think I want to be fired?” He glances around like we’re being followed or something. “Just being in your building would look bad.”

“Paranoid much?” I give a glance around myself.

“Anyone on the team could have followed you.” Anthony is on the verge of giving in, I can feel it.

“No one saw me leave. They were too far gone and concerned about getting you off their backs so they can go back to their party. No one is trying to figure out what you’re up to. They don’t want to be on your radar.” I accidentally, maybe on purpose, walk into him, knocking our shoulders.

He glances at the spot we touch and then looks into my eyes. “What are you trying to do? Piss off your dad?”

“What?” I ask, confusion flickering through me. Does he really think my dad would care that I’m fucking an older dude? He doesn’t know my dad very well then. “Why would this piss off my dad?” I’m slightly intoxicated, but I don’t think I’m incoherent.

“I’m the last person he’d want you to fuck.”

I close one eye trying to recall anything that would give Anthony that impression. “My dad has his head so far up his ass, he doesn’t care who I fuck. Nor would he care about age or even gender. He’s a douche but not homophobic, even existing in the sports world he’s never cared.”

Anthony turns on me. “I’m not talking about any of that...” He trails off and waits, like he’s expecting me to say something. “I told you he did this to me.”

“And?” I ask again, totally at a loss. “What point am I missing? Spell it out for me.”

“I can’t believe you don’t know.” He scrubs a hand over his face.

“Are you going to enlighten me?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time and then finally lets out, “Your dad hates me.”

I blink and step around to face him. “Why would he hate you?” I didn’t follow my father’s career that closely. I didn’t even know they’d played together until Anthony told me. “I know he fucked you up, but what reason does he have to hate you? He’s too narcissistic for that. He doesn’t think about anyone but himself.”

“You honestly don’t know?” Anthony is so genuine, he probably wears everything on his sleeve. I feel bad for not knowing, but he doesn’t know my father well if he thinks my father would ever show weakness by letting someone get under his skin. He would never.

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

He frowns. “Once I realized who you were, I shouldn’t have—I should have stayed away?—”

I put my fingers on his lips. “You’re cute, but this isn’t some plot to ruin your life. I wouldn’t fuck someone at my dad’s request.” It’s laughable.

He glares. “Why the fuck is staying away cute? It’s not cute. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I hate to break it to you, but this whole honorable thing is cute.” I smirk because I know he’s going to hate it.

“You can’t keep this up. We can’t keep doing this. You know how he is...” he says the last like he’s unsure, like maybe I don’t know the real version of my father.

“I’m still not sure what you think this has to do with my him.” I can’t imagine what he thinks this is. “Do you really think I’m not interested in you for you?”

“I don’t know what you think. But it’s—not something I can bring back in my life. I don’t want to lose this job, and your father hates me.”

“You keep saying that. Why does he hate you? It can’t still matter. He hasn’t played in years.” I’m sure he can hear the skepticism in my voice.

“I took his first line position.”

I grimace and then clap a hand over my face, trying to hide my reaction. “That was you?”

“Yes.”

“He came home livid. I remember it, but he didn’t mention you.” I wish he had. I would have thanked him for knocking my dad’s fucking ego down a peg or two.

“He wouldn’t. But when he realized I was better than him, he took me out, and then after a year of rehab, when I finally came back, he did it a second time, ensuring I’d never skate again.” The pain in Anthony’s face slices open my chest.

His leg. The injury that led to his early retirement.

Fuck.

“I wish I was surprised.” I push against his upheld palms again, and he lets me through.

He won’t meet my eyes. “So I can’t.”

“You’re a good guy. You didn’t know who I was, and I went after you.”

“That doesn’t matter. You know if he found out, he’d—” His head drops forward.

I already hate the man, but this is something else, and I can’t imagine it’s a unique occurrence. “He’s fucking awful.”

What can I say to him?

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I hate him too. I have for a long time.” I hope Anthony believes me.

Anthony softens. “I can only imagine he treats his family the same way he treats everyone else.”

I nod. Knowing he hates my father as much as I do makes me want him more. Most everyone reveres my father, especially guys who play hockey, so finding someone to fuck who doesn’t hero the man in the circles I frequent is a feat. It’s one of the reasons I don’t date. I can’t deal with bringing someone home only to have them kiss my father’s ass.

“You already said the team can’t find out, so no reason my father has to.” I rub a knuckle down his chest.

“You’re impossible,” he murmurs but doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t give up on what I want.”

“It’s not right. He’ll think I’m retaliating.” He grips my shirt when I try to get closer. “And you are barely eighteen.”

“I’ll be nineteen in a month.”

“I could be your father.”

“Only if you like it that way, Daddy.” I want him to flip the switch into the forcefulness I got a glimpse of that night.

“Don’t fucking say that. My best friend already called me Ice Daddy.” He shudders, but that tells me not only has he been thinking about that night, but there is more buried under all his resistance.

“You shouldn’t have given me that fodder.” I tuck the name away for later when it will piss him off the most.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, and his muscle flexes against my hold. “You shouldn’t want to fuck me.”

“Because my father hates you? You realize knowing my dad hates you makes me want to fuck you more?” I drop my voice to a whisper. “He’ll be at the game this weekend. You can bruise my lips so when I see him, you’ll know he has to see the aftermath of you taking my mouth.”

He rolls his eyes and grunts, but his cock tells a different story as he hardens against me.

“Don’t tell me it didn’t turn you on a little when you found out. Thinking about being balls deep in Cox’s son and how mad he’d be,” I whisper over his jaw, hardening at the thought.

He drags his teeth over his lip, hand going to his dick to adjust himself. “Stop.”

I’m so damn close.

I put my lips next to his ear. “Think about filling me up until I’m leaking your cum on the ice. If he knew…”

All of him stiffens.

“I want you inside me. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We can’t. We’ve already gone too far.” His eyes half close, and I slip my hand between us and grip his hard on. “Logan...”

I squeeze his hip, eliciting a hiss of pleasure. “I’ll blow you right here if I have to.”

“Not in the middle of the street.” He tries to pull out of my grasp, but I tighten my grip, feeling his resolve slipping.

“Take me upstairs and have your way with me.” I slip my fingers into the elastic of his gray sweatpants, and that seems to snap him into movement.

He grabs my wrist harshly but doesn’t shove me away. Instead, he drags me towards the door.