Chapter 18 #3
Holding one knee up to his chest, Ryland swore when Dabbs bottomed out inside him. Dabbs grinned, told him to hold on to something, and began to move.
“Fuck, yes.” Since Ryland didn’t have anything to hold on to, he tugged his erection instead as Dabbs pumped his hips.
Ryland was lost to sensation, his every thought scattered to the four winds.
The feel of Dabbs inside him, stretching him wide open, broke him into a thousand pieces of pleasure, and he came with a drawn-out moan, his orgasm painting his chest. Dabbs was right behind him, his face tucked into Ryland’s neck as he, too, came with a rumbled groan.
They lay like that for a long moment and got their breathing under control. Ryland wrapped his legs around Dabbs’ waist and hugged him close, running a hand through ginger hair that was damp and tangled with sweat.
“Christ, that was fast,” Dabbs muttered, lifting himself onto his elbows.
“You did say fast now, slow later.”
Dabbs chuckled, and Ryland felt it in his own chest. Dabbs pulled out slowly and headed for the bathroom.
Ryland was stretching like a contented cat when Dabbs returned. He was without the condom and with a warm washcloth, which he used to clean Ryland off. Then he tossed it aside and got back into bed with a murmured, “Get over here.”
Ryland went, wanting nothing more than to be in Dabbs’ arms. Tomorrow afternoon, he’d be flying to New York with his team, and he wouldn’t see Dabbs again until the Pilots hosted the Trailblazers in two weeks.
Hopefully, that game wouldn’t be as contentious.
In the last few weeks, they’d compared their schedules and made plans to visit each other on their days off. The new year would be harder because their teams didn’t play each other at all, but there were windows—small ones, but still—where one could fly to the other for at least thirty-six hours.
“Do you want to talk about the dumpster fire that was tonight’s game?” Ryland asked.
Dabbs let out a grunted laugh. “It went more or less like I thought it would, so . . . no. Do you?”
“Not particularly. I kind of want to forget it ever happened.”
“Forgotten,” Dabbs said. He dropped a fast kiss on Ryland’s lips. “Tell me how you’ve been instead. I know we talk all the time, but how are you really?”
Ryland rested his head on Dabbs’ outstretched arm. “Good. Keeping busy. Trying to create more engagement within the team, but I’m no Roman Kinsey.”
Dabbs’ smile was warm. “It’ll take time. Roman worked on it for years before it started to truly make a difference.”
“Years? Ugh.” Flopping onto his back, Ryland dug his fingers into his eye sockets.
“I just want us all working better together so we can make the playoffs again this year.” He rolled back toward Dabbs, memorizing the lines of his nose and the curve of his lips. “And you? How’s the book stuff going?”
Dabbs held up a finger and rose from the bed, disappearing around the corner that led to the bathroom and the door. He returned a moment later with a backpack Ryland hadn’t previously noticed. From it, he extracted a coil-bound document and handed it over.
The same coil-bound document he’d shown him last time?
But no. The cover was different.
The Hockey Diaries, Book 1 by Kyle Dabbs.
“Holy shit.” Scrambling up, Ryland took the manuscript and set it on the bed with the care it deserved. “You’re publishing under your own name?”
Dabbs scratched his jaw and joined him on the bed. “I thought a lot about what you said—about using my existing platform to reach readers. You were right. I was using a pen name to protect myself.”
Ryland frowned. “Did I say that?” He’d thought it, but he didn’t recall voicing his thoughts out loud.
“You implied it. And you weren’t wrong. Truth is, people have been talking about us for weeks and the world hasn’t ended. I figure publishing under my own name won’t be as bad as I’ve been imagining.”
“Kyle.” Ryland planted a swift kiss on his lips. “This is amazing.”
Dabbs passed a hand over his jaw. “I’m nervous as hell about it.”
“I would be too. But think of the royalties you’ll be able to donate to your charity and the awareness you’ll bring to the importance of mental health resources for kids. What you’re doing is honestly amazing. When are you publishing them? Is it now? Because I want to tell everybody. Right now.”
“Hold your horses, tiger.” Laughing, Dabbs lounged on his side. “I’m thinking spring. Now that I’ve got an illustrator on board—”
“You do? Since when?”
“Today. And she’s ready to get started yesterday. We’re still working out contracts and timelines, but I think a spring release date is doable.”
Ryland wanted to love on him so hard. First, he rose to set the manuscript on the dresser to keep it safe—
“That’s yours, by the way,” Dabbs said.
“What is?”
“The manuscript.”
A different kind of pleasure than the one he’d just experienced under Dabbs filled him. “I get to read it?”
“You’ll be the first one. Don’t tell me if it sucks.”
Pumping a fist, Ryland did a happy dance, then moonwalked back to the bed, where he pounced on Dabbs.
And they got lost in each other for a very long time.