Chapter 1 #3
Shayne shifted the arm draped over his eyes enough to peek out at Lincoln.
“Stop. Shit happens.” He covered his eyes once more since the light from the kitchen was making his head pound.
“At best I’m mediocre in all things. I was only ever passable as a hockey player and now I’m a slightly washed-up and unemployed hockey player.
Damn,” he breathed as the entire day’s events came crashing down on him.
He was so fucked. “Sorry about that. I had a moment.”
“Now I feel worse. You’re out of work and I totaled your car. Great. I’m exceptional at everything I do, most especially at fucking up.”
Shayne uncovered his eyes again at Lincoln’s tone. It had gone dead in a way Shayne didn’t like. “Dude. I have insurance. It’s not a big deal. By tomorrow night, I’ll have everything cleared up. Right now, I have a raging fucking headache.”
Lincoln shot to his feet, looking closely at Shayne’s eyes as if checking for any sign his brain was swelling. “Maybe I should stay with you. What if you die in your sleep or something?”
“What happened to the merry ray of sunshine I met on the side of the road this morning?”
Lincoln flushed and sat back down. “Sorry. There was a lot of adrenaline and stuff flowing this morning.” A moment passed where he didn’t say anything else, before adding, “Not that I didn’t mean everything I said today.
I’ve already taken out your car and I intend to wreck you in every other way too. ”
“Promises. Promises,” Shayne grumbled, covering his eyes again.
“You’ll see. What time do you want to head out tomorrow?”
An inner roar of triumph rang through Shayne. “Whenever you’re ready to go, I’ll be ready.”
Shayne sounded more asleep than awake. Lincoln hovered until Shayne’s steady breathing signaled he’d drifted off.
He waited another ten minutes to ensure he would be okay.
After a quick search, Lincoln found a scrap of paper and a pen.
He jotted down all his contact information, in case Shayne needed him before tomorrow.
After sneaking out and returning to his truck, Lincoln sat in the dark, running through every word they’d said.
Shayne made him different. His cheeks heated at the memory of a few of his comments.
He wouldn’t take them back even if he could.
Shayne had said several times he played hockey.
Lincoln didn’t follow the sport, but it was worth looking into.
It took less than thirty seconds of searching the net on his phone for Lincoln to find what he was looking for.
On the ten-year anniversary of Shayne Smith’s career with the New Orleans Blue Fires, the team has parted ways with their long-time goalie.
“Fuck my life,” Lincoln growled. It really had been a shit day for Shayne.
Running his fingers through his hair, Lincoln stared at the front of Shayne’s darkened house.
This was a good neighborhood. He had no idea how much a minor league goalie made but the job obviously kept the man in decent style.
Judging by the outside of the red brick home, Lincoln was willing to bet Shayne’s house had at least four bedrooms. The fencing around the back, suggested possibly a pool.
This man was out of Lincoln’s league on every level.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back, because he would.
Only a fool would turn down a chance like this, and Lincoln might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one.
Shayne crowded Lincoln’s brain all the way through his drive home.
By the time Lincoln stepped beneath the scalding hot beads of water shooting from his showerhead, he was more than a little turned on.
It seemed wrong somehow to hit a man with his truck in the morning, and jack off to the memory of his sexy body that night.
Closing his eyes, Lincoln tilted his chin back, allowing water to spill over his face and hide his desire.
Logically, he knew no one would judge him.
For some reason, Lincoln had always been this way.
He needed to be steady, reasonable, and respectful at all times, even when no one was watching.
An image of Shayne’s wicked smile flared to life in his head.
The cock Lincoln had been trying to ignore tapped his navel, refusing to be forgotten.
Reaching down, Lincoln palmed his erection, squeezing before releasing it again.
If roles were reversed, Lincoln would feel…
Lincoln snorted. He couldn’t lie to himself.
If roles were reversed, Lincoln would be ecstatic over the thought of Shayne stroking himself while picturing him.
It didn’t matter if Shayne would feel the same.
The idea gave Lincoln the excuse he needed in his weakened state.
Dropping his chin to his chest, he stared down at his erection as he palmed it once again.
The crown darkened as the promise of satisfaction became imminent.
His eyes fell closed as a fissure of pleasure tightened his skin.
The memory of Shayne’s laughter rang in Lincoln’s ears.
It had been such a sexy sound. He could practically taste its vibration on his tongue.
Lincoln tugged, soft skin giving way with each stroke.
Pivoting his hips, Lincoln squeezed his ass cheeks and fucked his fist. In his head, it was Shayne’s sexy lips locked around his dick.
Would he hold Lincoln’s stare as he swallowed his cock?
The question caused the fantasy to roar to life.
Behind closed lids, Lincoln saw Shayne’s face.
His heated stare, holding Lincoln’s as he sucked him off, sent Lincoln over the edge.
Even as the last drop of cum rolled from his member, coating Lincoln’s fingers, he couldn’t stop pumping his dick.
In that moment of crazed passion, Lincoln recognized how deep his longing ran.
No doubt, thousands of people lusted after Shayne.
There was no way Shayne didn’t have countless men beating down his door.
Even in the face of numerous competitors, Lincoln’s desire didn’t ebb.
When tomorrow came, he would be the one who stood out from the crowd.
If Lincoln never accomplished another thing before he died, he would have Shayne Wayne Smith’s ass squeezing his cock while the man chanted Lincoln’s name.
Shayne shifted. His eyes shot open as a gasp tore from his lips.
The already too tight shirt seemed to shrink as it pulled across Shayne’s injured ribs.
Damn it. As if he didn’t already hate falling asleep on the couch.
Now, not only was it a nightmare of cramped muscles, he could add demon of rib torture to his couch’s transgressions.
Rolling to his side, Shayne pushed himself into a sitting position.
The movement came at a high price. By the time his feet were braced against the edge of the coffee table and his ass was firmly planted on the couch cushion, Shayne was having a hard time catching his breath.
To give himself something else to concentrate on, he cast a glance around the empty room.
It seemed Lincoln had decided not to stay after all.
Shayne couldn’t blame the guy. He’d been in too much pain to make Lincoln feel welcome.
Maybe if he had, he’d have something entirely different to focus on—like Lincoln’s gorgeous eyes.
Fuck. They were amazing. Just the thought of the way Lincoln watched him eased Lincoln’s pain.
He was willing to bet good money Lincoln’s eyes softened and glassed over when he bordered on orgasm.
If Shayne were on his knees between Lincoln’s, he’d be in the perfect position to watch the man’s face as he sucked him off.
That thought alone made Shayne’s dick twitch.
Shayne didn’t hesitate loosening the string on his workout pants.
All of Lincoln’s boasts and sexual innuendo still clung to Shayne’s thoughts.
Since he wasn’t known for denying himself, Shayne pushed his pants down his hips, setting his erection free.
If Lincoln had stayed, Shayne would be inside him now.
Lincoln hadn’t tried hiding his desire. Shayne felt the same.
He wanted to fuck Lincoln—a bit desperately.
Masturbating wouldn’t take away the hunger, but it would relieve the sting until Shayne could have the real thing, and he would have him.
Lincoln hadn’t known what he was getting himself into when he’d chosen to step inside Shayne’s ambulance.
He would find out. When Shayne set his sights on a partner, they didn’t stand a chance.
Sliding the tip of his finger across his slit, Shayne savored the sensation of the pre-cum wetting his skin.
He traced a circle around his crown, smearing his juices.
The nerve endings firing to life beneath his touch held him transfixed.
He wouldn’t get off from this small touch, but Shayne enjoyed the torment.
It was the slow touches, dragging out the pleasure that brought on the strongest orgasms. If he was going to mentally fuck Lincoln, it needed to be worthy of the man’s sexiness.