Chapter 26
DEVON
God, I’d do anything to play with him. To protect him. He was also super cute, likely super straight, and I wasn’t a Vancouver IceHawk.
Yet.
“We need to go to bed.”
Jack moaned. “But…post-game analysis.”
“You want to play tomorrow?”
“Well, yeah.”
I eased away from him. “Good night’s sleep. Glad we moderated the beer.”
“Why? Well, I mean hangovers suck—”
“Yep. Clear heads. Especially for what I have in mind.”
“You won’t give me a sneak peek?”
He pointed to the beers on the coffee table.
“I don’t play after either me or my partner has consumed mind-altering substances.
Some people play. That’s a choice. Even though pot’s legal in Canada—and of course we’re both over eighteen—I’m not risking mixing play with shit that messes with your mind. ”
“You drink beer.”
“Never more than two. Never when I’m driving. Never when I might be playing. Like I said, not everyone has my rules. I just know what I am and am not willing to do. I might take risks on the ice…but not in my personal life.”
“Does this have to do with your mother?”
I blinked. Shit. “Yeah, to a certain extent. I mean, obviously her ALS wasn’t caused by any lifestyle decisions she might’ve made. Just the fucking genetic lottery. I’ve been tested, by the way. I don’t have that gene.”
“Thank God.” He whispered the words.
“Yep.”
He ran his hand through my hair—obviously thinking I needed soothing.
He wasn’t wrong.
I swallowed. “But yeah, my caution around alcohol is connected to my mother. She always made it clear that she was proud of me. But that if I stayed sober and achieved my dreams, she would be even prouder. And she didn’t mean making it to the big league.
She meant finding happiness in whatever path life took for me.
She hinted once that having a partner would be nice—because that would mean I wasn’t alone.
But then she’d counter that being alone was fine if I learned to take care of myself.
She taught me cooking, cleaning, and anything else she could. ”
“Did she say partner or did she say wife?”
I smiled. “Always partner. I didn’t come out to her. She was really sick by the time I was able to articulate who I was. But she never slapped a gender on future partners.”
“She knew. Or she was just being open-minded.”
“She knew. As I grew up, I could see. We’d watched several movies with gay couples. Happy, positive movies. None of those films where one or both of the gay men die. And she showed me a couple of lesbian films as well.”
“Was she…?”
I shook my head. “Well, not that I ever knew.” I considered. “And at least one trans movie—which was a bigger deal thirteen years ago. She wanted me never to have prejudices. To accept everyone as they were.”
“That’s incredibly progressive.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have the luxury of being able to hold something against someone. Well, I might be pissed off by bigots, racists, homophobes, and sexists. She also taught me to stand up for others—but to always be aware of my safety.”
“She sounds like she was a very smart woman.”
I kissed his cheek. “She really was.”
He grasped my hand. “I’d never push you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. I think I was just curious why a beer or two would be a hard no.”
“Well, first, I don’t hold my booze particularly well.”
“You’re a hockey player.” Said with just a touch of disbelief.
I chuckled. “Hence never driving—even after only one. I’ll take risks on the ice, but not outside. I need to be in the best shape I can if I want to be called up.”
“You’ll be called up.” He held my gaze with his intense dark-brown eyes. “You’re the most talented player on the team—”
“One of.”
He shook his head.
“Jack, you can’t say shit like that. People will think you’re playing favorites. There are others—”
“Not with your talent. You’ve got the entire package, and Toronto were fucking idiots to give you up.”
“We lost to them.”
“Because our offense needs work—not because of anything you did or didn’t do. You weren’t rattled at playing them. You kept your cool.”
“You would’ve done the same. Hell, you did. You got traded. You faced your old teammates. You were the better man.”
He winced.
I cocked my head. “Oh really? Do tell.”
He rose. “I’ll rinse out the beer bottles and put them in the recycling.”
I followed him to the kitchen. We’d put the plates in the dishwasher and already tucked the leftover pizza in the fridge. I looked forward to that tomorrow. Nothing better than cold pizza. Silly Jack disagreed. He said pizza had to be reheated to be enjoyed.
Something we’d agreed to disagree about.
Truthfully, there were few things. We shared so many similar views—from politics to music to movies.
We were different generations and yet we might’ve been born the same year.
So did that make me old or him young? Was I more mature for my age?
I got that sometimes. Because I didn’t party or drink, or do stupid shit.
Cow tipping? Thank God that hadn’t worked.
“What now?” Jack stood before me as my mind had wandered. “Is vanilla sex off the table?” He arched an eyebrow. “Hell, do you even do vanilla sex?”
I laughed. “Sometimes. Admittedly, not often.” I considered. “I’m usually able to find willing kinky people. Toronto was full of them.”
“Gay, kinky people?”
“Hell yes. You have no idea. I even scoped out Vancouver after the trade was announced.”
“Not Abbotsford.”
“Too close to the rink. Too small. I mean, if someone landed in my lap—” I poked Jack in the shoulder. “—I wouldn’t turn them down.”
He swallowed and blinked.
Aw shit.. Just had to remind him that this relationship ends when we drive away. Just a couple of days from now… “Yes, to vanilla sex. Neither of us is drunk. We both consent.”
“Yes.” He pumped his fist.
I laughed. God, I loved—
Nope. Shut that the fuck down.
—I loved his enthusiasm. “You use the bathroom first. Fresh breath and bladder empty.”
He laughed. “That’s fair.” He moved close. “I like that we’re not using condoms. I like having you inside me.”
“Have you ever—” I swallowed.
“What? You know you can ask me anything.”
“Did you ever, you know, with your husband?”
He shook his head. “Brad wasn’t into that. He was…a control freak.”
“Bossy bottoms are a thing. You’re always free to give me feedback, run a commentary, or just give me a critique.”
“Uh…no. I’d never do that with a Dominant.”
“Okay, first, you can always do that with a Dominant. Especially if warranted. We’re not perfect. Secondly, I meant vanilla.”
“Not with him. Never with him.”
I almost asked him if he wanted to top me.
Almost.
“See you in ten.” I spun him around, swatted his rather sore ass, and directed him toward the bathroom. I could’ve grabbed my toothbrush and headed to the spare bathroom. But I liked the idea of him having to wait.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I was considering what I’d do if he ever asked to top me.
I turned off the lights in both the kitchen and the great room as I made my way to the bedroom. You’re introspective tonight. Even if you’re not kinky, you still need to be focused when you make love.
Well, that was true.
By the time Jack was out of the bathroom, I was stripped.
His eyes softened as he roamed his gaze up and down my body.
My cock stirred. I grinned. “On the bed and stroking yourself.”
He cocked his eyebrow.
“I might not be your Sir tonight—but I can still convey how I’d like it. You. Aroused. Aching for my cock.”
Even as I spoke, he got harder. He really is born for submission. Brad was such a fucking idiot. Oh well, his loss is my gain. A pain ripped through me. Just for another couple of days.
“Devon?” Jack’s brow furrowed as he stepped toward me. “You okay?”
“Just really gotta piss.” I stuck out my tongue. “Beer breath.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Sure. Of course.” He stuck his tongue out. “Mint toothpaste.”
“Perfect.” Yet I stood for just a moment longer—taking in his precious face.
Memorizing as if I might forget it if I wasn’t careful.
Like I did my mom sometimes. I kept those photos and recordings so I’d never forget her.
But if I went too long without them, I might forget.
Not the color of her eyes or anything like that—but her secret smile.
Her joie de vivre. I shook my head—mostly to clear my thoughts.
“On the bed or not on the bed. Stroking yourself or—”
He grasped my arms, pulled me in for a rough kiss, and then hopped onto the bed with a grace that belied his strength and injuries. Then he clearly realized the comforter was still on the bed. Sheepishly, he rolled off the bed, lowered it, and hopped back onto the mattress.
I headed to the bathroom. When my teeth were brushed and my bladder was empty, I headed into the bedroom.
One lamp illuminated the space with a soft yellow glow.
The drapes held the cold, wet night at bay. Only a muted sound of rain could be heard.
For tonight, we were the only two people on earth.
And as I made sweet love to him, I held the tears at bay.
Barely.
As he slept, though, I let the grief of my mother’s death mingle with the anticipated grief of the moment we drove away from this amazing oasis of peace.