Chapter Eighteen
Vee
Seeing my cum leaking from Nate’s gaping hole was a sacred experience. For a decade, I’d focused on rebuilding my life the way people rebuilt after living through a war, on scorched earth and different from anything you’d expected your life to look like.
All the ideas I’d had of my life at thirty-three had involved ice under my blades and spending more time at the rink than anywhere else. Everything had involved him.
There hadn’t been another person in so long.
Nate would never replace him, Gods no, but seeing him lying in my bed, his naked body flushed and sweaty, was a tiny sliver of hope on the bleak horizon of my future.
I yearned to be inside him and see him lose control around me again. But he hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
Just your cum.
There would be time to indulge in him later. First I had to get some food into him.
The way his spent cock twitched when I kissed the inside of his left knee didn’t escape me. “I’ll hop in the shower and get started on breakfast. Sound good? Meet me in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.” He flashed me a lazy grin and ran a broad hand over his chest hair.
I ruffled my feathers when his hand trailed lower and brushed his slick happy trail.
Gods help me.
Everything about this man was a test for my self control.
“You don’t want to shower together, do you?” Nate asked me with a smirk.
“I’d love to.” I cleared my throat and got out of bed to put some distance between me and his tempting body. “But then we’d never get any food into you.” I stood there and took a moment to look him over.
What a gorgeous human.
“Bacon, eggs, and pancakes?”
“Are you describing what you see?” Nate asked innocently and shifted his thighs wider, “Or are you just wondering what I’d like for breakfast?” Mischief sparkled in his eyes.
I leaned in—despite my better judgment—and stole a kiss from his luscious lips. “I’ll leave that up to your judgment. See you in the kitchen in a few minutes?”
“Yeah,” he said, fluttering his lids.
I hopped in the shower, threw on a pair of comfy sweatpants and a T-shirt, and got to work on the pancakes.
Fifteen minutes later, Nate joined me. He padded over to me. I’d designed the kitchen so I could cook and enjoy the view from the windows, a layout I appreciated even more when he slung his arms around my waist.
“I never thought I’d feel small,” he muttered into my spine, then rubbed his cheek over my shirt. The rasp of his stubble sent a gentle shiver down my spine and I sighed.
“But?” I prompted him.
“But wearing your clothes makes me feel tiny.” We both chuckled. Nate was pretty tall for a human, but I still towered over him by half a foot. I loved that.
“I hope you’re hungry.” I gave his hands a squeeze before I stirred the scrambled eggs.
“I’m starving.” His lips left a trail of kisses between my shoulders.
I cursed when his fingers dipped under my waistband and gripped my cock. His other hand travelled up my chest to knead my pec.
He hummed. “You drive me wild.”
I tried to focus on the food, but damn me. Nate dragged my pants down to release my erection, then he took his hand away and spat.
Gods have mercy.
My eyes rolled back in my head when he spread his spit over my cock head. I turned off the gas range and steadied myself with both hands on the counter.
Thank fuck I picked marble. No wood would survive this.
Nate knew his way around a cock. Like a hunting dog he kept his nose on my trail of pleasure. He figured me out one slow, claw-curling stroke at a time.
“Holy shit!” I cursed when he twisted his fist over my head.
This is stick handling 101.
Nate hitched his thumb on my nipple, and he hummed his appreciation.
“That’s it, baby. Fuck my fist. Think you can come again so soon? Got any cum left for me, Pecs?”
I couldn’t speak but stood there with my head bowed and eyes squeezed shut. There was no way I could hold back if I watched him stroke me. I didn’t want it to be over. Fuck, I wanted to freeze time and stay like this with him forever.
“Frat Boy.” The groan forced its way out as the climax clawed at my insides. My body demanded I give in.
“Turn around.” Nate’s tone was firm, just like a captain’s on the ice.
Obeying was still ingrained in me. I did it, and he went down on his knees.
My back arched when his wet mouth closed around my aching cock.
I couldn’t resist anymore and came with a scream.
Nate’s throat worked hard to take it all, and he groaned with delight when he’d swallowed it and licked the last drops away.
I collapsed on the floor, scooped Nate into a hug and held him close.
“Breakfast will be cold by the time I feel my legs again,” I mused.
“I don’t give a fuck about breakfast. I want you again, Vee,” he whispered into the plumes at my throat.
We got up after a while, and I had the hardest time ignoring how ridiculous my sweatpants looked on him, and also that I could see everything.
“Be a good boy and have a few pancakes first, okay?”
His hard cock twitched.
Gods, he loves it when I call him a ‘good boy’.
“Yes, Chicken Daddy,” he chirped, but he did have some pancakes with an obscene amount of maple syrup and half a pack of bacon on the side.
He hadn’t even swallowed the last bite when he got up, took my hand, and dragged me back down the hallway to my bedroom.
It was way past noon when we finally made it out of bed.
“Okay, I need something to eat. You wore me out.” He climbed up on the kitchen island, plunked down, his legs swing off the counter, and grinned at me.
I shut the fridge door and walked over, pushing in between his legs.
“Let me feed you, Frat Boy.” I kissed him. “It’s the least I can do after you’ve been so good for me.”
In round three he’d got up on his knees and shuffled around until he faced the wardrobe doors. Gods, having him watch me take him from behind in the mirror…
The breath hitched in my throat, and I thrust my tongue into his mouth.
I was ravenous for him.
Ravenous and falling hard.
Nate heaved a deep sigh when I went back to the fridge and pulled out cheese, fruit, veggies, and meat cuts.
“Do you have a large plate? I make a mean grazing platter,” he said.
Nate was right. The platter he made for us looked like something a fancy hotel had once served us for breakfast.
I joined him on the counter, one hand on his knee, and fed him grapes and bits of cheese between more kisses.
It terrified me how normal it felt, and how ridiculous.
You’re in love with him and you’ve known him for what, 14 hours?
Then my phone rang and it all went to shit.
“Frederik?” I greeted my colleague, but couldn’t hear him over the shouting in the background. “Fred? Are you there?” I called.
“Vee? Hang on.” The voices settled down and then I heard him loud and clear. Hey, sorry for interrupting your day off, but we’ve got a situation.”
“What’s going on? The poachers again?” I looked up and met Nate’s eyes. When I held out my arm he leaned in right away, nuzzling my pecs with his nose and snuggling up to my side.
“No, we have a missing person,” Frederik informed me.
My insides turned to ice.
“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, we’re gonna leave without you,” a terrifying voice bellowed.
“That’s not happening,” my colleague explained with the patience of a saint. He was like that. “If you get lost, we’ll have two people to look for.”
“I don’t give a damn! I’m a Forest Troll!” The voice rose another couple of decibels. “I’ll find my teammate, even if this isn’t my forest! Or, you know, just fucking do your job and I won’t have to.”
A Troll? Thank fuck it was Frederik’s shift. He was an Elvertritsch like me but with unshakeable calm. I didn’t want to think how Johann, our human colleague, would have reacted if a furious Troll stomped down our office door and started screaming at him.
“As you can hear I have a very agitated and concerned citizen here, so we need to deal with this quickly.”
“Oh, my God!” Nate leaned back and stared at the phone in my hand. “That was Bo, one of our D-men,” he muttered.
“Fred?” I called, trying to get my colleague back on the phone.
“So, Vee, as I was saying. We’ve got a missing person, but we can’t track him because his phone is off. Nate Decker—“
“He’s a hockey player for the Pumas, American, tall, and has dark hair,” I finished his sentence for him.
“Wait, how do you know?” Frederik spluttered.
“I found him in the forest last night. He was freezing and had a few drinks too many, so he couldn’t drive home,” I told him through my numb beak. “I offered him my couch, and I’ll give him a ride back to Veitsreuth later.”
Frederik made a disbelieving coo in the back of his throat. “You’re joking, Vee, right?”
“Frederik! You really think I would make this up? Nate Decker is next to me, and he’s fine.”
Four rounds in he was so full of my cum his stomach bulged, and then I rimmed him until he came again. Believe me, he’s fine.
Nate snatched the phone from my hand and sat up straight.
“Hi, Frederik? Hey there, Nate Decker speaking. Vee was nice enough to let me stay the night.” He met my eyes and winked at me.“I’m fine, sorry for the trouble.” He listened to my colleague for a minute.
“I asked Vee if I could hang around until I sobered up. It’s awful being in a car when I’m drunk. I end up getting sick, you know? That Bavarian beer really is something else.” He laughed then listened once more.
“Can you let my teammates know I’ll see them at practice on Monday? Appreciate it, man. Hit me up if you wanna catch a game sometime. I’ll get you tickets.” Gods, vulnerable bottoming Nate was hot but sure-of-himself Decks? He did funny things to my insides.
“My bad for causing a mess. Sure thing. Thanks again, you’re the best. Bye.”
Nate finished the call and gave me my smartphone back, his body trembling in my arm.
I tilted his chin up to see his face, worried he had cracked. It happened. When people found out they scared someone, or caused trouble.
Nate was a mess, but it was because he was laughing his ass off.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He giggled, and it was the most adorable sound ever. “Did you catch Bo saying he’d search the forest on his own?” His shoulders shook.
For a moment, I was irritated about that Bo guy.
Is he into Nate? I can relate.
Shit, it had happened to me before, when Linden… Nobody had known, of course, but…
Content Warning: Please proceed with caution. There is a graphic description of a fatal hockey accident ahead.
All the memories I’d kept at bay since last night crashed over me. They choked me, and I flung out a hand so I wouldn’t collapse on the counter.
For a moment, I was back in that rink. All that blood. Linden’s blood. His yellow eyes searching the faces around him and finding me in the players crowded around.
A gasped, wet, gurgling “Vee?” and then that fucking silence. The cold from the ice had seeped through my gear. So much blood.
I love you, Linden.
I’d whispered the words in his ear instinctively knowing it was the last chance I’d have. I would never know if he heard me.
His parents and younger brother had been in the stands that day. It had been such a big game for us. In my nightmares I sometimes heard his mother’s pained scream, saw his father’s face, and Beck dropping in the puddle of blood, tears running down his freckled face.
Nate stopped laughing.
“Hey, don’t worry, okay?” He reached for me but I backed away. I looked at him but saw Linden instead. He’d been just as tall as Nate with copper hair and those unusual yellow eyes.
“Vee, are you okay?” Nate sobered up. He cupped my cheeks and gave me a once-over. “I’ll take all the blame, okay?”
“That’s not it.” I cleared my throat and pushed his hands away from my face.
Before my inner eye, Linden went down again, his glove pressed on his throat. His face went pale as the ice turned red. I fell to my knees by his side again in a pool of blood, not giving a damn that it soaked into my shorts and protective gear. I’d held his hand until the spark faded.
The scene in my head changed, and it wasn’t Linden bleeding on the ice anymore, nor a pair of lifeless yellow eyes staring back. The sparrow’s wings looked dull in death.
I can’t do this again.
I got up from the counter and straightened up on unsteady feet.
“Do you want to eat something or leave now?” I asked him.
“Leave? Vee? What’s wrong?” Nate hopped down from the counter and took a step closer. I backed away.
“Your team is freaking out. It’s time to take you home.”
“Okay, yeah, right.” Nate turned away, but I saw how hurt and confused he looked. “Okay, I’ll just get changed.”
“No, keep these. You can’t wear your clothes. They are filthy.”
Without looking at me, he nodded and grabbed his shoes and coat.
We got in my car and I drove him all the way to Veitsreuth without saying much except ‘Can you put your address into the sat nav?’ and him replying, “Yeah, okay.” His place was close to the rink, on the top floor of a fancy multiplex. I parked the car but left the engine running.
“Goodbye, Nate.”
“Okay, yeah. Bye.” He thanked me mechanically, unfastened his seat belt, and walked away without making eye contact. By his front door, he pulled out a bunch of keys and his phone.
I felt like shit, and I could tell Nate felt the same when he turned around and met my eyes. Hurt clouded his gaze. Then he entered his house and was gone.
For a few long minutes I sat in my car with the engine running and fought with myself. I wanted to go after Nate. But as much as I wanted to comfort him, I couldn’t reach out or kiss him again.
I wouldn’t survive that a second time.