One More Time: A MM Hockey Romance (Time On The Ice Series Book 1)

9. Tyler

Iwas on fire.

It was like the flames from the pit had absorbed into my skin and were burning for a way out, and the only reprieve was the broody Bostoner in front of me. I blamed the booze for giving me the confidence. The haze was strong, but it quieted the thoughts that wanted to take over.

Because kissing Hunter Graves was unlike anything I’d ever done. It was better than scoring a winning goal, better than the first feel of ice skates gliding on a freshly polished ice rink. No one had ever looked at me like the way Hunter was in that moment. Those dark, intense eyes locked onto me as if I were his sole focus. Like he hadn’t eaten in days and I was his next meal. He had forgotten the woman in his bed, and so had I. I’d completely forgotten that I was supposed to be nervous about being in the bedroom with a woman. Because she was nothing, and he was everything. I didn’t know this part of myself existed, and I wasn’t going to lie—it felt good. Our gazes locked, our lips milometers apart as if he just felt the earth shake too. His body pressed to mine, the kiss leaving both of us panting. Was this what it felt like to be with a man? Or was it just him?

Him.

I knew I found men attractive, but up until then, I’d admired them from afar. But one look from those crazed eyes the first day on campus had me diving into the water head first.

“Ty…” I knew he was going to check in, I saw him assessing me, waiting for me to freak out. But nothing was going to stop me. I needed this. More importantly, I needed him out of my system.

I dove back in, sealing my mouth over his. His lips were soft but strong, warm and all-consuming. The fact that he was taller than me was an added turn-on. The way he angled my head to maneuver me to precisely where he wanted me to be, had me gripping my dick painfully hard to stop my oncoming orgasm.

“Clothes,” I rumbled. I wanted them off. I wanted to touch what I knew to be a muscular chest, one that had tattoos over his pecs. The same tattoos that cascaded down his arms to the cuffs of where his jersey sleeves would sit.

Hunter smiled against my lips. “Anything you want, baby.” The pet name had my body flushing from head to toe. Fuck,why did that do it for me?

He took a step back and shed his bomber jacket. His Henley was quick to follow, hitting the floor. Then his ripped chest was on show, the dim lamp light enhancing every bump and curve. My eyes traveled all the way to the V that disappeared behind his low-cut pants. I groaned. I wanted those pants off. I knew he had thick thighs, and an ass to die for.

But my hands shook, torn between taking my own clothes off or ripping his from his body. As if he knew, his hand took mine and brought it to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to the pulse point on my wrist.

“Let me take care of you.” I nodded, completely under his spell.

He expertly worked his jeans open, my eyes studying the way his fingers turned his belt loose. Then the button popped and the zipper lowered. He shucked the denim, taking his CK briefs with it—and a purr left me, a fucking purr. I didn’t doubt anymore how I felt about men—about this man. His erection jutted out proudly from between his thighs, long, thick, and cut. I licked my lips as desire tightened my gut. Hunter closed the gap, taking my wrist once more, and guided me to wrap my fingers around his engorged flesh. We both moaned at the slight brush of my fingers against his velvety skin. God, fuck, fuck fuck. I am touching a dick. I am touching Hunter’s dick.

“How’s it feel, baby?” His breath ghosted across my ear, and I wasn’t sure when my beanie went missing but I was grateful for it. His hand curled around mine, helping me give his cock a tug. I felt its pulse, felt the perfect mix of hard and soft.

“So good,” the words tumbled out of me as I began testing the weight of him in my hand.

Hunter bit my earlobe, “Can I get you naked now?”

I nodded. “Yes, please. Fuck, yes.” The words tumbled out of my lips in a disjointed mess, a chaotic symphony of desire. I felt myself unraveling, succumbing to the allure of his husky, deep voice and the sight of him with his hand on his arousal.

“You have to let go, baby,” he said with an amused lilt to his voice. I let go—reluctantly.

“That’s it. Arms up; let me see the body I have been admiring for weeks.”

My arms raised like I was a marionette and Hunter controlled the strings. Somewhere along the line, my jacket got taken off—I didn’t care. I only felt myself get hotter as his calloused hands pulled my shirt over my head. Then those glorious hands mapped my body, dusting over my pecs. But I froze when he brushed my tattoo.

“Don’t touch that,” I growled.

Hunter nodded and true to his word, he moved on. I had to remind myself that I called the shots and set my limits. This was so unlike my first sexual experience that I found myself fighting back a sudden rush of unwanted emotions. I bottled them up and put them back on the shelf, returning my focus to the man in front of me. I focused on the darkness of his hair, the intoxicating color of his eyes, and the trimmed beard that felt like static under my fingers as I traced his cheekbones.

His hands landed on my belt. “Can I take your pants off? Can I touch you?” He pressed his lips to my neck as he fiddled with my belt, waiting for my consent.

“Yes, touch me. Fucking please touch me, Hunter.” He groaned into my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as my belt loosened. My jeans lowered, and his large hand cupped my dick through the fabric of my briefs.

“Fuckin’ oath,” I groaned, knocking his hand away to squeeze the base of my cock once more, staving off the orgasm threatening to race through my body.

“Mm, you’re perfect, the way your body responds to mine. I could come to that sound alone,” Hunter began to kiss down my abs, then his breath was at the waistband of my underwear as he lowered to his knees. I bit my lip hard, steeling myself to look down at him. My dick had already peeked out of the confines of my briefs, precome glistening on my stomach. I’d never been so hard in my life. Hunter’s fingers lowered the fabric and my knees buckled when he licked the liquid from my stomach. Hunter’s amused laughter fanned against my dick, his hand reaching around to cup my ass and keep me upright.

“Uncut…” he groaned. “Can I blow you?” I nodded sheepishly.

I took in a deep breath but as his lips sealed over my cockhead, I let out a string of profanities. I speared my fingers through his hair, loving the way it felt in my hands, how it looked between my fingers. The wet heat of his mouth was like nothing I had experienced before. “Hunter, god, fuck Hunter.” He peered up at me through his lashes and began to move. I watched as he expertly took my dick to the back of his throat, sucking, slurping, and licking. I felt my balls tighten and yanked him back by his hair.

“I’ll come if you keep that up.” Hunter gave me that same cocky grin that irritated me only this morning. Or was it yesterday morning?

Now, though, it fired me up. I gave his hair another sharp tug to bring him to his feet, bringing our lips together once more. Our naked forms met, hard body against hard body as I rutted against him. Our hands mapped the curve of each muscle like we were starved for each other. I didn’t know about him, but I was starved. I needed him.

I wanted to have him.

I dropped my hand, wrapping my palm around the both of us, shuddering at the feeling of his shaft against mine

“I want to fuck you,” I whispered against his lips, pulling away just enough to see his reaction.

Fire licked the golden expanse of his eyes. “Yes, fuck yes. If it’s okay, you fuck me and I fuck her.”

I whipped my head around to the woman in the bed I’d completely forgotten about. I want to say no—I just wanted him. But I nodded anyway.

“Have you ever…” Kinsley’s lust-filled voice trailed off, but I didn’t detect a hint of judgment in her tone.

“Not anal,” I answered. The nerves started to fire up in my belly once more.

Hunter wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his lips kissing down my neck, his hand lazily stroking my dick. I felt myself relax into his embrace. “We’ll talk you through the prep.”

Although I nodded, I felt like I was navigating uncharted territory. I fought the urge to run. Despite the unsettling sensation, there was a steadying force that anchored me in that moment—Hunter’s unwavering presence behind me.

“If I move, will you run?” Like he knew my thoughts, Hunter pressed himself harder against my back. Fear wanted to take hold, but something about him had me ready to dive into the scary unknown of sex.

Sex with a man.

Sex with a man who was going to fuck a woman at the same time.

I wish I could say I blamed the alcohol, but I’d been stone-cold sober since Hunter’s lips touched mine. I was running on pure lust and adrenaline at this point.

“No, but I’m wearing a condom.” I know it sounded stupid, weird even. I waited for his reaction, but he just kissed my cheek, then trailed his lips down the crest of my jawbone.

“Of course, baby.” He pulled away slowly, like he was making sure I’d stay put. But just as I did before I hit the ice, I took a deep, steadying breath. I went to my jeans and took the condom from my wallet, rolling it on with tight strokes in the hopes that fear wouldn’t make me deflate.

Hunter stood at the edge of the bed and grabbed Kinsley by her ankles. She squealed as he yanked her to the edge of the bed, rolling her over and slapping her ass. He put on his own condom and I watched as he slipped his fingers inside her, testing and teasing. “So wet for me Kins. Or is it for my man?” She moaned in response and my dick flinched. Me, he was claiming me.

You’re only his for tonight.

It’s just one night.

I moved in closer and Hunter looked over his shoulder. I watched as he lined his dick to her entrance. “I know who I’m hard for. Sorry darling, he has me close to exploding tonight.”

Despite Hunter claiming he only had eyes for me, Kinsley moaned. He slammed into her in one smooth motion, causing her body to jolt—but she loved it. She clawed at the bedding, noises of pleasure filling the space around us.

“Baby, I need you to copy me.”

Hunter’s voice drew my attention back to him. I heard the click of the lube bottle. He lubed up his fingers, then pressed one into Kinsley’s hole, drawing a louder moan from her. I watched, entranced by Hunter’s body as he worked his finger.

“Your turn.” He indicated the open lube bottle in invitation. I closed in, one hand on his hip the other picking up the lube. I copied his action, spreading the lube over my fingers. I flattened my other hand against his back, pushing slightly to bend him at the waist. I teased my fingers between his cheeks, slowly rimming him with one finger before I took the chance at pushing through.

He took it like he was greedy for it.

I worked him, keeping my gaze fixed on the way my finger moved in and out of him. His body clamped down on as if he wanted to keep me there. I added a second digit, curling it to feel for his prostate. “Fuck, Tyler! Please, please…”

I bit my lip, smiling at the sound of the Broody Bostoner coming apart over something as simple as my fingers. I wasn’t a complete baby gay. I was no stranger to my prostate. I got myself acquainted with that magic button in private every chance I got. I angled my fingers as I worked him open. When I hit the target, Hunter’s knees buckled.

“Fuck, you have to be perfect at everything—don’t you baby.” He was giving me the confidence boost I needed.

I leaned over him and nipped at his earlobe. “I only try to succeed, Hunter.” Hunter’s whimpers had me pulling my finger out, drizzling more lube over his hole to add in a third. I began flicking over his prostate, his words becoming more incoherent with every stroke of my finger. “Fuck me, Tyler. Please fuck me.”

I pulled my fingers out quickly and slicked up my cock, my hand pressing on his lower back. I loved those two puckered dimples just above his perfectly toned ass. I took each perfect cheek in my hands, giving them a squeeze as I parted them and aligned my dick with his entrance. I heard both Hunter and Kinsley’s bated breaths, waiting for the extra pounding from behind. I wiggled my hips, and met with resistance from Hunter’s hole. I kissed down his back, my hand moving to wrap around his throat.

“Please, Baby. I can’t take much more. Have me, take me.”

I didn’t need further invitation. This was what I wanted, everything I’d ever needed. Hunter Graves was the man I only ever dreamed of taking, I pushed through, pausing as I felt his muscles contract around me.

“Oh god. He’s so thick, Kins—thicker than me. So fucking perfect.”

Kinsley only groaned in response.

I began to move slowly, working him open inch by inch while he drove into Kinsley. She was a vocal girl, but I zoned into what I really wanted to hear, and that was Hunter’s deep undertones. He was coming apart. With each thrust he chanted my name like a prayer, cursing as my cock grazed that sweet spot over and over. Every part of me was alive, more alive than I’d felt in a long time.

Life had taken a toll on me, and responsibility had become the collar and lead guiding me away from everything I should have. However, at that moment, a shift occurred. I was caught in that exhilarating high, where the heart plunges into free fall during the suspended moment at the pinnacle of a swing’s arc. Unprepared for the impending descent, I clung to the experience, moving in and out of a man who had forever shattered the mold I once inhabited.

“God, Tyler, Tyler, Tyler.” He chanted my name in time with each thrust, my body moving the way it craved; erratically, with no rhyme or reason. He came with my name on his lips and as he convulsed around me, I did the same. Release thundered through me so fiercely that my vision whited out. I rested my head between his shoulder blades, wrapping my arms around his waist. I held tight, not ready to let him go.

My vision returned in spots as I came down from the high. I could’ve blamed it on the whiskey, you know, chalked it up to a wild night. But I knew deep down, that it wasn’t the liquid courage doing the talking. He was my whiskey. He was that smooth, warm sensation you get after a hard-fought game. Going down easy, leaving you with that lingering taste that makes you crave more.

It was like taking the ice. Like scoring a goal feeling the rush and wanting to stay in the game—even when you’re running on fumes. He was my power play, but I couldn’t let myself get caught up in the momentum. He left me hungry for more, a desire that echoed the adrenaline of an overtime goal.

But I had to play it smart, toe the line between the thrill of the game and the potential penalties. Just like in hockey, you can’t afford to lose control on the ice. Your emotions have to be in check. So, as tempting as it was to go for the hat trick, I had to remember the consequences and keep my focus on the bigger picture.

This was a one-and-done. I quickly squashed the feeling that threatened to surface. The same feelings I’d kept under wraps over the years. I pulled away and moved into the ensuite bathroom. I discarded the condom and cleaned myself up at the sink. I looked in the mirror, and the man before me was flushed, different. Forever changed. Sex had a way of doing that to someone. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, hating the tears that burned behind my eyes. I was a fucking soft cock, overwhelmed by having so many emotions rise as the high I was feeling hit an all-time low.

A protective embrace took me by surprise as arms wrapped around my waist. I could sense a chin resting on my shoulder, and as our eyes met in the reflection before us, a shiver ran down my spine. Golden eyes, intense and searching, locked onto mine. Panic surged within me, a desperate desire to escape.

The yearning to run intensified, an instinctual need to evade his gaze and conceal the emotions etched across my face. I hesitated, caught between the comfort of the embrace and the fear of exposing my secrets. In that fleeting moment, I grappled with the conflicting emotions.

“Stay, Ty. Don’t panic, don’t go.” His arms anchored me tight around my waist, his head buried in the crook of my neck. I didn’t know what was happening, and I didn’t want to look too deep into it. For him it was just sex, right? He liked multiples, a rotating mill of men and women.

And right then, I realized I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be a notch in someone’s bedpost. I got why women hated it. I fucking hated it. This guy made me feel something… something real. Something I had never felt before. Nothing lit me up like he did.

“I shouldn’t. You said it was just one night, right?”

Hunter stood tall. I was waiting for him to rip the band-aid, for that cocky arrogant playboy to come out and play. But his arms moved from my waist, and I hated how cold I felt. I moved first, not wanting him to see the flash of pain in my eyes.

I was pathetic. Knowing the rules and limitations, I chose this—I wanted this. I wasn’t sure if it was his soft touch, the tender kisses, or the sound of him calling me baby, but I was unraveling fast.

I was gay, like only wanted to fuck a man gay. Maybe even be fucked by a man, gay. I wiped my face and gathered my clothes, pulling them on hastily. This was a mess—I was a complete utter mess.