Epilogue
Graham
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees as I watched my teammates skate around the ice, doing their best to break the tie with the other team.
Going pro had been a dream come true for me, though it didn’t come without its frustrations—like not being able to start the game.
Coach wouldn’t give me the damn opportunity to prove myself.
I understood he had more “experienced” guys he could put on the ice, but I knew what I was doing.
And apparently, the ones on the ice couldn’t get their shit together today. This should’ve been an easy game, but we were struggling.
Turning, I glanced at the stands, spotting my boyfriend watching with his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched.
He was close to the box I was sitting in, so I’d heard him cussing and yelling more than enough to know he was pissed about this, too.
He’d even yelled at my coach to get his head out of his ass and put me in the game.
I’d gotten a dirty look for that one as if I’d somehow put Sterling up to it, but I had just brushed it off. Coach would come to learn one day that my man wasn’t one to be fucked with—not when it came to this sport and me being able to play.
Another thing—Sterling was my manager. He didn’t have to deal with people unexpectedly touching him because there was no reason for anyone to get that close to him.
And it also meant we were together all the time.
His safety net never went anywhere. He was doing so much better than he had been in college, but he still had his moments, and we were finding new triggers all the time.
But he worked through them with Dr. Clancy, who was still his therapist, only they did their sessions virtually now.
A player hit the ice, his head bouncing off of it, and his leg was bent at an awkward angle, making me wince.
The entire arena went silent as everyone waited for the verdict from the medics, who rushed onto the ice.
I rose to my feet to get a better view of what was going on.
After a minute, it was determined he needed a hospital.
He was conscious, but he more than likely had a concussion, and his knee was snapped out of place.
For his sake, I hoped it wasn’t a career-ending injury. It was my biggest fear—getting an injury that ended my career. I lived and breathed hockey, and I wasn’t sure how I’d survive without it.
“Hurley!” Coach barked. I looked over at him. “You’re in.”
After a quick huddle with my team, we made our way onto the ice. Sterling was cheering for me, and I grinned at him before placing my hand over my heart and then pointing my finger at him. He grinned and blew me a kiss.
It had taken my teammates a minute to get used to the fact that I was bisexual, but they eventually came around. They supported me, and they even helped when it came to my online presence and the assholes who liked to come sideways at me and Sterling.
I got into position, and when the puck slid in my direction, I quickly took off like a shot, swiping it from the other team and swiftly making my way across the ice, dodging the other team’s players left and right.
Once I was close enough, I shot it into the net, officially breaking the tie between our teams and putting us in the lead.
I chanced a quick glance at Sterling and chuckled at how rambunctious he was being. My good luck charm never let me down.
I raised two fingers to my helmet, right over my lips, and then raised them up at Sterling. The camera panned to me as I did it, and then it shot to Sterling, who did the same in return. Hearts exploded over the screen, and I chuckled.
The rest of the game went smoothly and without a hitch, just like I knew it would. As soon as it ended, my teammates were all over me, shouting their congratulations in my ears. I laughed, soaking it all in and congratulating them on a job well done, too.
As soon as I had space, I searched for Sterling in the roaring crowds, and when my eyes landed on him, I placed my hand over my heart, then to my helmet where my lips were, and held my fingers out to him.
When he began to return the gesture, I dropped to one knee.
His jaw dropped open, his eyes almost bugging out of his head.
My teammates started shouting, their excitement for us tangible in the air.
But this was sort of the moment I’d been waiting for, though I couldn’t carry the ring I’d bought him around while I had games. It was sitting safely in our apartment back in Seattle in my sock drawer.
“Will you marry me?” I mouthed at him.
“Yes!” he shouted, his voice barely carrying to me over on the rink. But the fact that it had showed how loudly he’d yelled his answer.
I grinned and did our thing again, and this time, he returned it, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright.
God, I loved this man so fucking much.
Sterling was all over me as soon as we walked in the door of our hotel room.
He licked into my mouth, his fingers tangled in my damp hair.
I moaned and kicked our door shut before pressing him against it, my hands tearing at his clothes.
Sex with us was always wild and frantic at first. We couldn’t ever seem to slow down until after we’d gotten our first orgasm out of the way.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you got playing time today,” Sterling panted as he yanked my hoodie over my head. “You were so fucking hot on that ice. I love watching you play.”
I yanked his jeans down his legs as he kicked out of his shoes.
“I can’t believe you fucking agreed to marry me,” I growled before I kissed him again.
Our tongues tangled together, and I rutted against him, slamming his body harder against the door.
He moaned, which was practically a beg to continue being rough.
“Better believe it,” he rasped as I picked him up. He wound his legs around my waist as I carried him over to the bed, dropping down on the mattress with him sitting astride my lap. He gripped my hair and yanked my head back, trailing his lips down my throat. “I expect my ring when we get home.”
“Oh, you’ll get it,” I promised. “And you better fucking wear it everywhere. I want everyone to know who you belong to.” I wiggled out of my boxers and slid back on the bed, tugging him with me. “You’re mine.”
“Always,” he panted as he pulled a plug out of his ass, shooting me a cheeky grin.
I growled and flipped him over onto his stomach before rising up behind him.
I loved how he always prepped for me. I’d do the same if landing on a butt plug when I hit the ice didn’t hurt so fucking much.
Did it once. Sure as fuck would never do it again.
“You ready for me?” I rasped, one hand on his spine to keep him with me. When he couldn’t see me, he still needed constant contact, which was where my hand came in. And fuck, I was always more than willing to touch him.
“Yes,” he pleaded. “Fuck me, Graham. Fuck your fiancé.”
Oh, fuck yes.
I quickly sank inside of him, and he moaned my name. Reaching back, he gripped both of his ass cheeks and spread himself apart. I snarled and began fucking him, my hips audibly snapping against his ass with every stroke into his ass.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Don’t stop, Graham. That feels so fucking good. Please, God, don’t stop.”
“You going to come untouched for me?” I managed to heave out between labored breaths. My body was sore from the game, but I would suffer through anything to be with Sterling. But shit, I was going to feel this tomorrow.
“If you keep fucking me like this, then yeah. Definitely,” he moaned.
“You feel so good,” I panted. “So good, baby. I’m close. Please, fuck, tell me you’re close, too.”
“I am,” Sterling groaned. “F-F-fuuuuck,” he cried out as he came all over the bedsheets. I gritted my teeth and spilled into him, marking him as mine from the inside out for the umpteenth time this week.
I just couldn’t fucking get enough of him.
I dropped to my back beside him as he collapsed onto his stomach, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His fingers linked through mine, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“How was it fucking your fiancé for the first time?” he breathlessly asked.
I chuckled. “So fucking good. And once I catch my breath, you can have your go at it in the shower.”
He groaned, his eyes shutting. “Sounds like a plan.”
I rolled onto my side and tugged him into my sore arms for after-sex cuddles. Our legs tangled together immediately, and he burrowed against me like he was trying to crawl into my skin. His sigh fanned across my bare, sweaty skin, making me shiver.
“I love you,” he murmured. “Thank you for continuing to be my reason.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you for letting me continue to be your safety.”
He snuggled even closer and wound his arm over my waist, his other hand pressing to my chest, right over my heart. My eyes slid closed.
The shower would have to wait. With Sterling in my arms like this, I just wanted to sleep.
Before I even realized it, I was out like a light, only mumbling a tiny complaint when Sterling pressed a kiss to my lips and slipped out of bed to go shower and get the cum off his skin.