Chapter 12 #2
His eyes darkened as they raked over my body from my face to my crotch. My blood heated and my cock took notice. A smirk pulled at his mouth when he looked back at me. “Good.”
I wasn’t sure what that was about, but I could guess. And it gave me a thrill. Instead of acknowledging it, I went back to the original battle plan. “Okay, then…breakfast.”
“It’s the most important meal of the day.”
“Jesus fuck.” I laughed. I had to. He bratted beautifully. It made me want to throttle him and fuck him, and I wasn’t sure which would satisfy me more.
I scrubbed both hands over my face and into my hair.
When I looked back at him, he was grinning like a fucking Cheshire cat.
I pressed my palm over his mouth when it fell open, his tongue curling and pressing against his molars as if he was reloading for his next bratty launch.
“Are you one of those crazy diet hockey guys who doesn’t eat real food, or… ”
“Food. Like real food? Eggs and sausage and bacon. The craziest I get is hot sauce, multigrain toast, and a massive fucking amount of protein bars and shakes.”
“Considering this is Priest and Cam’s place and they have a hockey player for a partner, I’m sure there’s plenty of real food here to eat,” I said as I stood to make my way to the kitchen.
Once there, I pulled open the fridge and laid out everything I needed to make the two of us breakfast.
He followed, his hand brushing over my ass as he passed behind me where I stood, turning on the gas cooktop.
My dick twitched in my pants, making me thankful I had my back to him.
Looking over my shoulder, I chuckled. He stood in front of the coffeemaker naked as the day he was born, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets.
“Eureka!” he yelled, showing off the large jar of coffee pods he’d unearthed from somewhere.
He was the cutest little shit. At least fifteen years younger than me if I had to guess, but…
“How do you take your coffee?” he asked, interrupting the train of my thoughts when the last of the water sputtered from the machine on the first cup of coffee.
“Black.”
The alarmed look on his face cracked me up. “I don’t sip the shit. I’ll guzzle a few espressos to get a jolt first thing in the morning, and depending on what my day looks like, another few in the late afternoon, but other than that it’s flavored water.”
The words I spoke only made his face turn from alarmed to afraid as he held out the cup. I took it from him, downing it like a shot of liquor before handing it back to him.
“Another?” he asked wide-eyed.
“I can fix it when I’m finished here. I don’t expect you to wait on me.”
His brow tweaked as if—but it disappeared too fast for me to figure out what it meant. With it gone, he dropped another pod in the machine and pressed the button, then straightened his shoulders. He turned to look at me and said, “I can make coffee. You’re making breakfast.”
“Then, yes. Please and thank you.”
He smiled. A soft, pleased stretch of his mouth that came with a tiny wiggle-dance.
He set a third pod to brew as he doctored his now finished cup.
I glanced toward the water I left him on the nightstand.
I walked over, picked up one of the remaining bottles of water, and set it on the counter next to him when I returned to the kitchen.
“Here. You need to drink some more water. Coffee is a diuretic.”
He smirked and saluted as he said, “Yes, sir.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. “You realize you’re standing in the loft of the owners of a kink club, right?”
His smirk grew into the biggest shit-eating grin. “Yep,” he said, popping the p at the end while leering at me with his dick swinging between his thighs.
“Just making sure you were aware what sort of buttons you’re pushing.”
Darkened, pupils blown, and wide eyes did that slow slide over my body that he’d done several times since waking as he leaned back against the counter.
“Oh, I’m aware. Very, very aware.” He licked his lips, then sucked in a deep breath.
“So, where are they? Your friends, who own this…den of iniquity?” he asked, looking around the large open space of the loft.
“Wow. Den of iniquity? That’s…”
“The truth?”
Laughing, I shook my head. The kid was literally standing in the kitchen, lounging against the counters as if being nude was perfectly normal while helping the guy whose dick he just sucked make breakfast. I owned a kink club and had been in the Marines, and I don’t think I’d ever met anyone as comfortable in their skin as this kid.
I tossed him a loaf of bread, and he turned to the toaster, removing his dick from my periphery. I shifted my focus back to the eggs and sausage, which were done, and began plating our food. Our shoulders brushed when he dropped the buttered toast on the plates.
“Don’t forget the hot sauce.”
“You were serious about that?”
“Absolutely. Gotta have hot sauce.”
I opened the cabinet where Priest and Bauer keep their stash of hot sauce and held it up to the boy.
“Fuck, yeah. My favorite,” he cheered and fist bumped the air. “Now, tell me where your friends are hiding and if they’re going to be pissed that I ate their hot sauce.”
“They have a house they hide in whenever they can,” I said. “They keep this for late nights and friends who visit. And no, they won’t be pissed. There’s a dozen bottles of that shit in the cabinet.”
He nodded with a…what was that he did with his mouth? I kept watching. The wheels in his head turned in his eyes. Was he…
“True hot sauce connoisseurs then,” he paused, then his gaze met mine. “So the four of them are together, right? I didn’t clock that wrong, did I?” he asked.
I nodded slowly. “Does that shock you?”
He laughed. “Since I routinely fuck my roommates who are twins, nope. Not in the way you’re worried about at least. It’s hot as fuck. They’re four sexy bastards. Besides, I love knowing there are out and proud queers in the league. Makes it easier for the rest of us.”
Glad I hadn’t read him wrong, I nodded, grabbed the silverware and our plates. “Grab the drinks, would you?” I asked then headed to the living room. We could’ve eaten at the island, but I fucking hated the barstools in this loft. They hit my legs funny, making them go numb.
We sat on the sofa, so close that our knees brushed together when we angled to face each other.
“I wouldn’t say that Gavin is out and proud, but he’s also not in the closet.
He just lives his life. He doesn’t answer questions about his personal life, and they don’t broadcast their relationship.
Nashville might be blue and queer-friendly, but Tennessee is fucking red and very homophobic. ”
“Well, he might not, but there’s no fucking way Aiden’s gonna be able to follow Gavin’s lead since he and Coach sucked face at center ice after Aiden’s first NHL game.”
“No, but Asher and Bauer won’t let anything happen to him.”
He nodded, staring down at his food. The silence in the room grew thick the longer we went without speaking. Silverware hitting and scraping the ceramic plates were the only interruptions. Finally, Trey asked, “And their locker room? What’re the guys like in the room?”
“Mindset rolls down from the top. If the top sets the precedent, then the rest will follow.”
More nodding. A sniff. Then another. And if my eyes were to be believed, spiky lashes.
“Trey?”
“Hmm?”
“You good? Is the room at MU…”