Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZOMA
A fter getting Nova’s approval of my outfit over FaceTime for my date with Ace, I stood in the main room of my apartment and paced back and forth in front of the window leading to the courtyard with tall trees rising up between landscaping rock and desert plants. I glanced at myself in the reflection. I’d gone with a classic fitted white linen shirt and black slacks. Was it too much?
My gaze scanned over my apartment, all done up in modern gray, black, and white tones with furniture I’d bought with my mom from IKEA when I’d moved out for college. It was classy in a way I liked, but it also fit my college budget. What did Ace’s place look like? Did he live alone or with roommates?
A knock sounded on my door.
“Shit.” With my heart lurching, I sped to the door and flung it open.
Ace stood in the golden light of evening, his dark hair bed-mussed but falling adorably around his face, his smoky dark-eyed gaze locked on mine, and his muscles filling out his black shirt and jeans. “Hey, Zoma. You look amazing.” He stepped inside and wound his arms around me, giving me a quick hug and planting a kiss on my lips.
“You look good too.” I stepped back, grabbing his hands and looking him over more thoroughly. The guy had a way of filling out his jeans that really showed off his assets, front and back. I raked my teeth over my lower lip. “Damn delicious.”
“Delicious, huh?” A flush spread over his cheeks peppered with five o’clock shadow.
“Yes. Good enough to eat.” With a sharp chuckle, I wound an arm around his waist. Dang, I couldn’t help but flirt with him. “Want to see my place while we’re here? Do we have time?”
“We have a few minutes.” He scanned the main room. “Nice furniture. I like it.”
“IKEA, because…college.” I snatched his hand and walked him through the main room, past the gray couch and white tables, then past my dinette in black. “The kitchen is in here. I think the place was remodeled recently.”
He peeked down the row of white shaker cabinets and speckled gray counters. “Yeah, these apartments are pretty old, but they look nice inside.” Raising the edge of his lips, he said, “You going to taunt me with your bedroom?” He arched a brow.
“Taunt?” I cocked my head.
“Yeah, show it to me now knowing full well we don’t have time to use it.” With a wider smirk, he hauled me down the hallway to my bedroom. “I take it this place is a one-bedroom?”
“It is.” I strolled behind him, my gaze landing on the sway of his rounded ass. I was hungry for food, but maybe not as much as I was starving for Ace. But he’d said we had reservations…
He pushed open my bedroom door. “Nice. You make your bed all the time, or just when you have company?” He stepped inside and ran his hand over my vine-patterned bedspread in cream and gray.
“I make it every morning.” I clasped my hands over my pounding heart.
“You really have style, don’t you?” He twisted around, laid his forearm over my shoulder, and came in close. “It fits you, and I like it.” Brushing his mouth over mine, he licked my lower lip. “Nope, we have to go to dinner first. Then I’m going to mess the hell out of this bed.” He walked out of the bedroom.
With my dick waking, I touched my tingling lips with my fingers. Hell yeah. I swiveled and caught up to him by my door. “What’s, uh, what’s your style?” Did he have one besides hockey trophies and smelly gear?
He shrugged a shoulder. “You’ll find out. Word of warning though. I don’t make my bed all the time unless I have company.” With a wink, he opened the door and walked out. “Come on.” Holding his arm out, he gave me a sexy smile.
I stepped into his side, and he wrapped his arm around my waist.
We drove to the restaurant in his older white Ford something or other truck. I saw trucks like his around but never paid much attention to them. The place wasn’t far, so we hadn’t spoken much on the way, except about what unhealthy food we might splurge on.
After parking, he held my hand as we entered the restaurant, him holding the door for me.
I stepped to the hostess stand, looking at the décor. It was rustic, romantic, and classy all at the same time, with heavy crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling and an amazing wall of plants on one side.
“I got us the garden view.” He tilted his head toward the plant wall and chatted with the hostess about our reservation.
She walked us to a dark wooden table for two and set menus down.
I dropped into my chair and picked up my menu. “Are we drinking tonight?” A red wine sure as hell sounded good.
“If you want. I’m having a beer.” He plucked his menu off the table. “Damn, would you look at this menu? It makes a regular Italian restaurant sound like McDonald’s,” he said, rubbing his chin.
If he was from a ranch family in Montana, did it make him a meat-and-potatoes guy? “What do you usually eat, Ace?” I set my menu down as my gaze caught on a young man walking toward us, all in black. The guy had to be our server.
After taking our drink orders, he left.
“I’ll eat just about anything. Living with the squad for the last four years and being out on the road for games has taught me about a lot of different foods.” He peeked at me and smiled. “I do, uh, make a mean spaghetti. I cook a lot for the guys at the house.”
“You do, huh?” I sipped my water. I hadn’t pegged him as the cook. “How many guys do you live with?”
“The two you met at the gay bar, Tyler and Myles.” He ran his fingers over the condensation on his water glass. “We originally had Archer Carlson and Mason Hopkins living with us, but they ended up with the Coyotes.” He winced. “And Jonah Boehm went to the Maple Leafs last year.” With a nod, he said, “We were known as The Squad. We were going to change the perception of queer athletes in the NHL.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. His light had dimmed. “You’re all getting picked by NHL teams, one by one, huh?”
“Yeah, but I suppose it’s a good thing.” As his gaze flicked to mine, a grin crept over his mouth. “I miss ’em, but I have to be happy for them. They also ended up with great guys.”
I wanted to meet them all. “And has the perception of queer men changed in the NHL because of you and your friends?” Resting my forearm across the table, I wiggled my fingers. As far as I knew, Brody hadn’t come out officially.
He shifted in his seat and wound his fingers in mine. “I think so. We still get chirped on by some homophobic assholes, but I’ve been seeing a lot more support too.”
“I think with athletes coming out during the last Olympics, the skating world isn’t quite as homophobic as it was.” At least at the level I was at now, it wasn’t a problem. Though I’d heard the stories of gay skaters being asked to look more masculine out on the ice. Whatever the fuck that meant. I huffed a laugh. Should I ask him more about his plans at the end of the year? My gaze searched his face. No, too soon, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. We were just having fun together, and maybe that’s all we could have.
With a nod, he said, “Good to know. I plan on not hiding a thing when I get my contract.”
Oh, he went there. I wouldn’t take it any further. “So, speaking of being out, what’s your story with your family?” Planting an elbow on the table, I propped my chin in my hand.
He brushed his thumb over the back of my hand. “It wasn’t easy. Both my parents were stunned and didn’t want to believe it. But my mom came around first.” He pressed his lips into a thin line.
“How old were you when you told them?” It sounded like he was still pretty close to them, so everyone must have gotten over it. My gaze caught the server setting down our drinks. I took my wine from him and sipped it, the oak and cherry flavors mixing in my mouth.
“Are you ready to order?” The server stood next to the table.
“Uh, no, we haven’t looked at the menu.” With a sly smile at me, Ace picked his menu up. “Give us a few more minutes?”
“Sure.” The server walked off.
“So, how young was I when my parents found out?” With a shake of his head, he sipped his beer and focused on me. “They found gay porn on my gaming computer when I was about thirteen. They had no idea how to set up child controls on the damn thing and sure as hell didn’t think I’d be looking that up.” With a sharp chuckle, he leaned back in his seat.
“Oh, damn.” I lifted my brows. He knew at a young age what he liked.
“I was already playing hockey, defense, but I was growing like a weed and Dad decided being a goalie would toughen me up.” He freed a ragged sigh. “That was his way of denying it. I suppose he thought if I got hit in the head enough times, it’d straighten me out, literally.”
“Oh, come on.” No person really thought like that, did they? I picked up my menu and set it back down. No, this conversation was too important.
His gaze was locked on me. “I’m serious.” He chuckled. “In hindsight, I’m glad it worked out the way it did. I took to being a goalie right away. It was like I was made for it.”
“Yeah?” Biting my lip, I looked him up and down. He was made for more than just that. I couldn’t wait to get him in my bed. “So when they found out, were you out to your friends or anything?”
“Oh, hell no.” He choked out a laugh. “We kept it in the family until I was in high school. By then, I had the support of both my parents.” He fingered his menu. “I’d made a name for myself in hockey by then, so I felt a little invincible.” He sighed. “Plus, I’d met a lot of the squad at hockey camps, and they had my back.”
With a nod, I sipped more wine. There was so much more to find out about him, but…I held up my menu. “We should decide what we want to eat before the server gets irritated with us.”
Pointing at his menu and smirking, he said, “Well, we have to start with the pork belly. Don’t you think?”
“Definitely.” I perused the menu, standard Italian fare with interesting Mexican and even Japanese-style dishes thrown in. “I think I’ll get the scallops with butternut squash.” There, it was seafood, so it wouldn’t be too far off from my nutrition routine.
“I’m going to splurge with pesto pasta and blackened shrimp.” He planted his menu on the table and tented his fingers. “Where were we?” He eyed me. “Tell me more about your family and how it was for you.”
I rocked once. Where to even start? I touched the long crystal dangling from my neck on a chain. I wore it so often that I usually forgot it was even there. But talking about Mom… “My mother is an artist and works with pottery.” Warmth floated through my chest. “I’m an only child. Mom couldn’t get pregnant again after having me and eventually quit trying.”
“Artist. Nice.” Tilting his head, he said, “Did she give you that necklace?” He sipped his beer.
“She did when I won my first competition. I wear it under my body shirt during every competition now.” Staring at the table, I let the memories of home flood my mind—Mom at her potter’s wheel and Dad taking photos in the yard in my small childhood house. “My dad’s a photographer. He does everything from weddings to portraits. He has a studio in town.” My gaze snapped to Ace’s. We were from very different backgrounds. “My mom also teaches pottery at the university.”
“The one you went to?” Propping his forearms on the table, he leaned forward, all his attention on me.
“Yep, that’s the one. I got free tuition out of it.” I shifted in my chair. “Mom and Dad are paying for my graduate school tuition, but I’m covering my living expenses.” I wasn’t entirely sure why that mattered, except I was pretty sure Ace was here on a hockey scholarship.
“Yeah? Why did you come here when you would have had free tuition in Colorado?” He eyed me.
Brody . Fuck, that wasn’t a good reason, but it was true. I scratched my forehead. Could I make something up?
The server stopped by the table. “You ready?”
Oh, thank God. We ordered our food, and the server left.
“So?” Ace watched me and sipped more of his drink.
“I, uh… Well, Nova wanted to come out here. ASU has a good MBA program. That’s what she’s working toward, and I followed her.” I freed a faltering chuckle. Would he believe that?
“Really.” His eyes narrowed further. “It had nothing to do with this Brody guy, huh?” With his fingers wrapped around his glass, he tapped his index finger on it.
Fuck, how the hell did he figure that out? I worried my lower lip, my gut knotting. He was going to think I wasn’t over Brody. “Maybe it had a little to do with him?” I forced a quick grin.
“A little?” He lifted his brows.
Puffing a breath out of my nose, I said, “He was part of it.” I tensed my jaw. “There were so many memories around Colorado Springs. I wanted to get out of there and start fresh, you know?”
Nodding slowly, Ace said, “Yeah, I know.” He leaned sideways, keeping one elbow on the table and holding his chin in his hand. “I love my family, like a hell of a lot. But Montana is not the place for me. When I return over the summer, I stay close to the ranch.” He snorted softly. “Hell, working with the cattle and fixing all the shit that needs fixing is such a great workout that I don’t have to do hardly anything else except for my stretches.” He twisted his lips. “The only other place I hang out there is the rink.”
My stomach unwound. He understood for his own reasons. “Yeah, I love my parents too, and the people there are really cool. Just…you know.” The memories suck .
The server set down our pork belly, and we straightened and unwound our silverware from the linen napkins.
“Damn, that looks good enough to eat.” He stuffed his fork into a tender piece of browned meat, resting over a bed of lettuce, and held it up to me. “You first.”
“Yeah?” As a smile swept over my lips, I opened my mouth. He was a first-class gentleman, for sure.
He slid the warm, succulent pork into my mouth, and it exploded with flavor as I chewed. Covering my mouth, I said, “Oh, holy hell, that’s good.”
With his eyes growing dark, he flicked his tongue over his lips and bit the lower one. “I like watching you eat it.” He adjusted himself. “Damn, boy, you get my engine going.”
“I do, huh?” I poked my fork into another morsel and held it to him. “Your turn.” This was fun. How had I never done something like this with a date?
He leaned in and licked the meat, and then wound his lips around my fork and hummed.
My dick twitched behind the zipper of my slacks. Food porn, that’s what this was, and I was all on board.
“So, since we’re both horny as hell for each other, I suppose we should get some things out of the way.” He ate another bite of pork.
“Yeah? Like what?” Please be vers or a bottom, please. I licked some sauce off my fork, his gaze chasing my tongue.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Top or bottom?”
“I prefer to top.” But he had such a nice dick… Heat flared over my skin. Where the hell was the rest of our food?
“Okay, I’m vers. We can work with that.” As his cheeks flushed, a coy grin crept over his mouth. “I’m on PrEP, so you know. Don’t need to bother with condoms unless you want to.”
“Damn, you are going all out.” With a smile, I stuck my fork into another bite of food. “I like that. We won’t have to ask later when we can’t think straight.” Because with him, there was no thinking when he was kissing me. “I’m, uh, on PrEP too, so we’re double protected.” And I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him why I was on it. I didn’t need to be bringing up Brody again.
“Good, then bareback it is.” He adjusted his fly. “Dammit, got a boner now.” He sipped his beer.
“At dinner?” My smile widened. He was adorable and oh so sexy.
The server set down our food and left.
“Looks great.” My scallops had just the right amount of browning at the edges and a buttery sauce.
“It sure does.” Ace twirled his fork in his pesto pasta. “Don’t get me wrong, this is a great place, and I love the company, but I want to get you alone.” His dark gaze flicked to mine. “I can’t stop thinking about the last time we were together and how much better it would be in your bedroom.”
My cock hardened in an instant. He was killing me here. “Same.”
After getting through dinner with small talk about classes, we drove to my place, and I let him inside my apartment.
Closing the door, he stepped in behind me, skimming his hand up my shoulder and grabbing the back of my neck. “Stop right there.” He strolled around to face me and cupped my cheeks. “I couldn’t wait any longer to kiss you.” He pressed his lips to mine and snuck his tongue inside my mouth in a lingering, hungry kiss.
Slanting my mouth over his, I matched his pace and grasped his hip, pulling our hardening dicks flush through our pants. A shiver of sensation played up my spine and tingles ran along my skin. His kiss was as good as I remembered. With our tongues dancing, I roamed my hands to the globes of his ass and squeezed. I couldn’t wait to get inside him. And bareback? Bonus. Thank God we’d talked about things beforehand.
With a ragged groan, he broke our kisses. “Need you. Now.” Snatching my hand, he led me down the hallway into my bedroom, flicked on my nightstand lamp, and stood facing me at the edge of my bed. Looking deeply into my eyes, he said, “This isn’t a hookup. Right?”
Nodding once, I said, “Not a hookup.” Because we’d do this again. But we weren’t boyfriends, just dating. I had to keep telling myself that, or my mind would go places it shouldn’t, and then the fear?—
Shoving me to the bed, he crawled over me and rolled us so I was on top. “I’m not gonna lie. I kind of like having you right here.” He pulled me in for a toe-curling kiss, his tongue sweeping across mine.
With a soft whimper, I rocked my hips, grinding my hard cock against his. Sensation pulsed my dick and tightened my balls. “I think we need to lose the clothes.” I wanted his cock in my mouth again too.
“Agreed.” With a soft chuckle, he pushed me aside and sat up to shimmy off his shirt and wriggle out of his jeans and briefs, tossing everything to the floor.
I did the same, but as I shucked my slacks down, he grabbed my forearm.
“Stop.” Tilting his head, he fixated on my skimpy silk briefs.
Yeah, I had style all the way down to my underwear. “Yes?” The head of my cock poked into the band.
“That’s nice. I didn’t get a chance to enjoy your fancy underwear at The Club.” He skimmed his fingers along the side, around the front, and cupped my balls. “Fuck, that does it for me.” Biting his lower lip, he tugged my slacks down and crawled between my thighs, his wide shoulders brushing either one.
I spread my legs wide in a straddle split, my balls held in place by the briefs. “How’s that?”
“Oh my fucking God.” Wetting his lips, he rubbed my dick and balls through the silk.
As pleasure surged inside me, I let out a ragged moan. Under my breath, I said, “Oh fuck.”
“Yeah.” He lowered onto his knees and elbows and stretched the band of the briefs down, freeing my aching cock. “Yeah…” Sucking my dick all the way to the back of his throat, he flicked his tongue over my shaft and stroked me with his lips.
My balls jerked and my stomach clenched as sensation swirled through me. We were going to have some fun with sexual positions.
After a moment, he pulled off, his lips wet and swollen, and his hooded gaze met mine. “You taste so fucking good.” Wrapping his hand around my spit-slick shaft, he slowly stroked. “Has anyone ever edged you?”
What were we doing again? There was a top, I was going to top…I leaned back on straight arms and lost myself to the feel of his warm touch. “Uh, edging? No, I don’t think so.”
He came down again and licked my cock, fluttering his tongue at the head, and pushed his tongue past the band of my briefs to lick at my balls.
“Feels good.” Winding my fingers through this hair, I clutched it and pulled, sensation building and tingling through my body. “Want to fuck you, Ace. Can I?” This was good and all, but I wanted to be inside him.
“Yeah?” He left my cock. “Come on, let me show you my moves.” With a lopsided grin, he swiveled on the bed, his dick bobbing between his thick thighs. Kneeling on all fours, he widened his knees out until his dick was almost pressed to my duvet, his ass high in the air.
“How about this? Or would you rather I be spread eagle on my back?”
My mouth watered, and my cock jerked. “Oh no, this is perfect.”
Damn, the guy had some crazy flexible hips. I crept to him on my knees and skimmed my hands over his muscled ass cheek. Lube, we needed lube, like now. “Hang on.” Leaning to the side, I yanked my nightstand drawer open, snatched the lube, and squirted it over my fingers.
“I’m waiting…” His gaze caught mine.
“Be right there.” I crawled to him on my knees and bent over him, admiring his wide back muscles and the way his dark hair fell to the top of his shoulder blades. Brushing my slick fingers between his cheeks, I rubbed over his puckered hole, and it clenched. “You’re dying for me to fuck you, aren’t you, Ace?”
“I am. God am I.” He groaned and pressed his forehead to the bed. “Just so you know, I don’t need much prep. I like to feel everything.”
“Good to know.” Could he be more perfect? I fell over him onto one straight arm and pushed a finger inside while pressing my now leaking cock against his ass.
“Fuck,” he bit out with a gasp.
Pumping my finger, I crooked it just so, finding the spongy spot inside him.
“Oh fuck…” His body shuddered and his hole pulsed around my finger. “You almost made me come. Careful. I’m pretty wound up here.”
“Like a spring ready to pop.” I bit where his shoulder met his neck, sucked, and licked the spot while sneaking another finger inside him, rubbing both over his prostate.
He panted underneath me, his muscles flexing and releasing. “I’m ready. Oh God, I’m so fucking ready.”
“Yeah?” Lifting, I slid my cock between his cheeks and rubbed over his hole. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes, I want it.” He trembled and pushed his ass at me. “Fuck me now, Zoma.”
My dick pulsed and precum dribbled down my shaft. Oh, holy hell, now I was the one almost coming. I’d never been turned on like this. Slathering more lube on my cock, I lined it up to his hole. “Ready?” Because maybe he’d changed his mind? Stupid, Zoma.
“Hell yes, I’m ready,” he rasped.
Slowly, I worked my cock into his hot, tight entrance, and it spasmed around me. My eyes rolled back and electricity shot through my body. Calm the fuck down. Don’t come already. I breathed through it and lowered to hover over his back, my balls resting against his thighs. “Jesus fuck.”
“Jesus fuck is right.” He freed a long moan and wiggled his hips. “Fast and hard, baby.”
Baby? Not going to dwell on that now. I pulled out and thrust, pumping my hips while biting his shoulder and licking his salty skin. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to eat him for dessert.
He turned his head, showing his profile, and I flicked my tongue at his mouth.
“Hold on to me.” With a grunt, he pushed us both up and shifted his legs.
I wrapped my arms around him, one hand on his chest and the other on his hip. He’d lifted me like I was nothing. As I continued thrusting into him, I looked down. A shudder of sensation rolled through me. Good thing I had such strong legs from skating, or this position wouldn’t last long.
His thick cock bobbed between his thighs, dribbling precum down his shaft.
He needed some attention. Slipping my hand over, I stroked his dick in time with my penetrating thrusts.
“Oh fuck, close,” he groaned. “Kiss me.” Craning his neck, he gave me his mouth.
I devoured him in ravenous kisses and pumped his cock faster. Tension knotted in my gut and my balls drew up. With a soft moan, I said, “Me too.”
“Come with me, Zoma.” Grabbing my cheek, he pulled my mouth to his and tangled our tongues together.
As pleasure built to the raw edge, I tumbled over and sparks lit up my spine. As my dick pulsed and spurted inside him, I gasped and gripped him tighter. “Oh fuck, so fucking good.”
With a deep growl, his cock grew thicker in my hand and hot cum shot to his chest, landing on my arm and fingers. His body tensed and shuddered along with mine.
As it slowed, his muscles relaxed, and he fell on my bed with me still hanging on.
I landed on top of him, my dick giving one last pulse inside his body. “Oh my God.” I kissed his shoulder, his back, and up his neck.
“Ditto.” He freed a long sigh. “I, uh, wasn’t thinking and messed up your bed.”
I sat up, my spent cock slipping out of him. A shiver played over my skin. “I wasn’t thinking either. I should have grabbed a towel.” Shit, usually I would have, but my mind refused to think around him.
“Too late now.” A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Next time, you should keep it handy.”
Shifting off him, I said, “Noted.” For once, though, I didn’t care if my bed smelled like him or us, even.
He rolled to the side and propped on his elbow, resting his cheek in his hand. “Zoma.”
I mirrored him. “Yeah?” This was the part where he said he had to get going. It was Tuesday night, after all, and he had an early morning skate. My chest stiffened. This is how it always was with hockey players.
“I’m going to go clean up so I don’t make more of a mess in your bed, then what do you say we hang out a little more? In bed, I mean?” Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on my lips.
I blinked. He wanted to stay longer? “Uh, sure.”