Chapter Seventeen
FINN
WEEKS LATER, NY(DECEMBER)
Sel and I haven’t talked since that night in Toronto.
Except on the ice, because hey, I’m an adult and this is my career on the line.
And yeah, we fucked up bad in the second period of that game in Toronto, and it still grates.
But after a couple of home games where we win more than we lose, I’m starting to cool down.
Off the ice, not so much. I spend my time ruminating over what to do about my feelings for Sel.
Feelings and desires that keep growing more intense and have no where to go.
My outlet? Training. I hit the gym so hard that I’m cut like never before.
It doesn’t matter, though, because my mood doesn’t improve.
How he could kiss me like that one moment and then push me away the next?
You walked out without a fight, so…
Sel wants to protect me from himself, but I don’t need that.
Yes, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I’m queer, but it isn’t freaking me out the way he thinks.
I’m not one for denial; I know I don’t feel attraction the way most people do.
And it turns out my attraction is tied to a person, not a gender.
Only, the person I want isn’t sure about wanting me.
I haven’t been able to think about anything else but him.
In fact, it’s so frustrating to be polite and distant around Sel, that I don’t know how much more I can take.
If I grind my teeth any harder, I won’t have any left.
It was another gruelling practice today but I welcomed it because now I’m too tired to think.
Until I overhear Sel talking with Berg about his “date” with Taylor tonight. They’ll probably hook up for real. Maybe they already have? Ugh, now I want to puke.
Taylor’s out, not figuring shit out, so he’s perfect. And I’m perfectly miserable.
Not even Sorensen’s jokes or Makela’s teasing can lighten my mood. They invite me to a pub in the neighborhood, but I beg off.
Back at home, I heat up one of those super healthy prepped meals, eat, and promptly fall asleep on the couch. A couple of hours later, however, my stomach wakes me up. I guess “healthy” wasn’t enough. I tap my phone and it’s just past midnight. I know if I don’t eat, I’ll never drift off again.
Throwing on my Rush sweatpants, I wander into the kitchen to see what I can dig up, and it’s frozen pizzas for the save.
I place two pies in the oven, flop back on the couch, and flick on the TV.
After twenty minutes of browsing, I give up.
With my attention span shot, I sit there in the dark, waiting for the oven timer to buzz.
I stare out the window, at the stunning lights of the city, and I start to wonder what Sel is doing right now.
You mean, who he’s doing…
Twenty minutes of “obsessing about something I can’t have” later, and the pizza’s ready. The carbs have the much-needed effect of making me sleepy and fuck knows I need oblivion.
I’m just starting to doze when there’s a loud knock at my door. Am I asleep or did that really happen? I hear the sound again and shake my head. If this is a neighbor pranking me, I will lose my shit.
Reluctantly, I get up and head for the door, turning on the light in the foyer and checking the peephole—this is New York after all, you never know who’s going to be standing on the other side.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I grumble.
I wrench open the door to find Sel standing there, looking as wrung out as me.
His dark hair’s a disheveled mess, but he’s trimmed his beard which makes him look even hotter, if that’s possible.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous, even in the middle of the night wearing low-slung sweats and a white T-shirt that’s tight across his shoulders and biceps.
So simple, but so freaking sexy. I try to fight it, but my blood races and my dick chubs up.
Then I remember where he’s been tonight and who he’s been with.
“What are you doing here?” I snap. “It’s one in the morning.”
The sharp tone’s so unlike me, but too bad; I’m tired, horny, and pissed off. This man is driving me out of my mind and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. And why the hell is he here now and not with Taylor?
Sel doesn’t reply to my question. He’s breathing hard, like he ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, and we stare at each other like it’s the first time we’ve met.
“Well?” I repeat.
“I can’t—” he starts, running a hand through his hair.
“I know,” I interrupt. “You didn’t need to come here to tell me that. I got the message in Toronto.”
I move to close the door, but Sel puts his hand on it, and my heart takes off running.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he confesses in a low, rough voice. “Jesus, Finn, I can’t stay away.”
Suddenly I can’t breathe, let alone think, but somehow, I move. Grabbing his bicep, I pull Sel inside, locking the door behind us.
“You really want me?”
I need to make sure I heard him correctly, because all the blood in my body is rushing to my dick and I have thirty seconds before my brain shuts down.
He grunts and licks his lips. “I don’t think want is the right word.”
“What about all the complications?”
“They’re still there.”
“And my queer virginity?”
“Your what?”
At least my sense of humor hasn’t completed disappeared.
“Just pretend we’re back at college camp,” I reply. “Only, you’re not teaching me about hockey.”
Sel lets out the dirtiest moan, but the joke’s on me because my knees are about to give out.
“Something tells me I’m the one who’s going to learn a lot,” he murmurs as I stare into his beautiful brown eyes. “Kiss me.”
“There’s no going back,” I admit. “I’ll deal with whatever happens, but I won’t act like nothing did.”
I take a step closer, reaching for Sel’s hips. His body heat, his musky scent, it’s all fucking intoxicating, and I’m ready to get drunk.
“No going back,” he repeats.
“Then stay with me tonight,” I boldly state, hoping he feels the same. “We don’t have to have sex. I mean, I want to, but… I want you to sleep in my bed.”
Sel nods, a dark flush staining his cheeks.
“I want that too.”
I lean into him slowly and tremble when our hips and chest make contact.
He’s waiting for me to make the first move, to make sure this is my choice.
I barely brush my lips over his mouth, tormenting him, making no move to kiss him the way we both need.
He chases my mouth, and when I ease off, I get the full glare.
“Finn,” he growls.
“Is there something you need?” I whisper against his mouth.
“You’re a fucking tease.”
“I’m sensing intense frustration,” I chuckle.
He cups my jaw with his callused hand and there’s no more laughter.
“You have no freaking idea,” he admits. “I’ve been crawling the walls for the past two weeks.”
“You’re not alone.”
Sel takes my mouth in a rough, possessive kiss, and every part of my body fires up.
I didn’t think I’d get the chance to touch him again and I’m greedy as hell.
I don’t hold back, rocking my hips, sliding my tongue deep into his mouth, claiming him the way he’s claiming me.
He groans, I moan, and fucking hell, we sound hot together.
We could’ve been doing this for weeks.
We tumble down the hallway, eager hands and wild, devouring kisses. It feels like I haven’t touched him in two years, never mind fourteen days.
“Do you always answer the door without a shirt on?” he whispers against my lips.
I can’t help but smile.
“I will now.”
“But only for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Finn—”
God, I love to tease him. I chuckle and kiss him again, harder this time.
“Yes.”
I was never great at flirting, even with my ex, but something about this man brings it out in me.
Sel’s hands cup my ass as he pulls me in tight, our hips grinding, the friction unreal.
My dick is so damn hard that each brush of contact has me whimpering.
I can only imagine how hot it will be when we finally get naked.
The thought has my balls drawing up tight. Shit. I’ve got no fucking willpower.
“Need to touch you,” he confesses. “All of you.”
“Yes, please. Now.”
Sel trails his hands down my bare chest, slowly rubbing his fingertips over my collarbone, my pecs, and finally, tweaking my sensitive nipples.
It’s too much, but not enough, and I don’t recognize the filthy sounds coming out of my mouth.
His movements are slow, sensual, and not at all what I expected.
When his fingers move lower, tracing the skin of my abs, I begin to tremble.
He only stops when he reaches my belly button.
Uh-oh.
I have an outie, which isn’t common, and I’ve always felt self-conscious about it. Sel lingers there, caressing me, and a hot blush stains my cheeks.
“This,” he moans as he stares at my abs, tracing my bump of a belly button softly with his thumb. “Is the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
The heat in my face spreads down my neck and chest. I bite my lower lip to keep from smiling and shake my head.
“You’re ridiculous,” I mumble.
“It’s true.”
Then he’s lowering himself to his knees, kissing my abs, including my outie. Fuck, why is that the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me? I’m so turned on I’m rock hard and about to combust.
“Sexy,” Sel confesses. “Irresistible.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He doesn’t stop, teasing me with a swirl of his rough tongue. Jesus, he’s not bullshitting.
“Never knew I’d have a belly button fetish,” he whispers, his breath teasing my skin. “And yes, everything about you is hot as fuck, Finn.”
My grin finally lets loose. I’ve never thought of myself as hot or sexy, any of those things, but the way Sel’s touching me, I’m starting to believe it. He looks up and I shudder at the heat reflected in his eyes.
“Your gorgeous eyes, your irresistible dimples, and of course, those freckles that kiss your lips,” he continues as he stands up, his mouth so close to mine. “Fucking beautiful.”
I must be a slut for praise because his words make me jolt and shiver. I’ve never felt more aware of my body as I do in this moment.