Chapter 42
Grayson
By the time the horn blows, signaling the game’s end in Boston, my team is defeated literally and emotionally.
The Enforcers’ playoff run has ended, and I’m nervous about Austin’s reaction.
He hasn’t taken his restrictions well, and I’m grateful I’m not allowed to treat him.
I love him, but he’s a terrible patient.
Luckily, I don’t have to argue with him about protocols.
Officially not my job. I assumed that I’d always be on Austin’s side for treatment, but brain injuries are tricky.
Most of the time, you don’t know if something is too much until it’s too late.
He has pushed himself too far a few times, and it’s slowed his recovery down.
His solution for forgiveness is to leave me massive amounts of sticky notes.
I woke up with one on my forehead that said “Mine.” Did it melt me like a holiday candle?
Yes. Did I still lecture him? Also, yes.
But I was naked so it probably wasn’t effective.
With the playoffs and celebrities behaving badly, our memes are old news. I saved them on our phones in case we need a good laugh. Austin has never been afraid to make fun of himself, so I worried needlessly.
The Boston series has been a mindfuck, to say the least. Their top defender, Theo O’Keefe, couldn’t play for shit.
He’s King’s stepbrother and usually plays like King and the rest of the team have insulted his entire lineage.
O’Keefe didn’t get into one fight or try to get away with any shady plays.
In Boston, all the players exit and enter the ice from the same tunnel but turn opposite ways at the end.
I’ve treated all the minor injuries, and the guys won’t come for my help to stretch out until after they shower.
Austin and Kenney are coming down from Ari Dimon’s suite, and I’m waiting for them by the elevator in the tunnel nearest to Boston’s side.
Part of me wants to give Austin a big hug, and the other part wants to assess him.
I wouldn’t have let him come if I was in charge of his treatment.
He doesn’t need this stress combined with guilt, noise, and bright lights. If I had my way, I’d strap him to the bed and not let him up until he was fully recovered. Probably overcautious.
Down at the end of the tunnel, King’s still on the ice, talking to his parents in the stands.
He’s handling coming out with grace and determination. Because of all the outrageous rumors, he’s having fun with innocent yet suggestive comments with Brant and me. Austin’s head hurts when he tries to read his phone, so he hasn’t joined in on the jokes yet.
King makes his way down the tunnel, and when he gets close enough, I offer my comfort. “Tough game. You looked good out there.”
He scoffs, but he had a goal and an assist. Our trouble was that without Kenney, our defense fell apart.
“Hey, Jamal, do you have a minute?” O’Keefe steps out of a doorway, still in his uniform but missing his stick.
“Not the time to gloat,” King bites out.
“No, it’s not that.” O’Keefe’s face is pink, and King jerks with surprise.
“Can we talk for a minute?” His eyes cut to mine.
“Privately?” They are opposites in looks.
King has dark skin and black braided hair, and O’Keefe could give a ghost a run for his money, except he has green eyes.
Eyes that are so intent on King, he makes me nervous.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, but we can talk right there.” King points to a spot a few feet away. I give an up-nod to confirm I’m here if he needs me. Hopefully, O’Keefe isn’t dumb enough to start a fight with me as a witness.
“What?” King snaps when they pause.
O’Keefe’s demeanor is nonthreatening, almost apologetic, looking at King anxiously.
I turn my back to give them some privacy, but I can hear O’Keefe whisper.
“Listen, I saw you on Pride Night, and—” he cuts off with a strangled sound.
“Is that your problem?” King sneers, and I whirl around to see him pin O’Keefe to the wall with his forearm to his throat. “You didn’t play us because you’re afraid you’ll catch gay. You really are a piece of shit.” King shoves him and stalks away.
O’Keefe rubs his throat and slumps dejectedly against the wall as he watches King’s back. When King disappears out of sight, he faces me. “That’s not it. I’m not homophobic,” he says with a tortured expression.
The elevator dings, and the door opens to reveal Austin, Kenney, and Mr. Dimon.
“What’s going on?” Mr. Dimon’s eyes sweep between the two of us.
“Nothing. Just asking if he needs help finding something.” O’Keefe turns and walks away.
They look at me, and I notice the security cameras. O’Keefe could be setting King up.
“Can we talk and walk?” I ask, sweeping my hand toward the locker room to explain everything, although both O’Keefe and King would want it to stay private. Mr. Dimon alerts Finn of the altercation and goes to speak to King.
Austin leans against a locker frame and closes his eyes.
“You okay?” I ask, moving to his side.
“Other than sitting idly by and watching our Cup dreams die, I’m fine.”
I wake to Austin’s incredulous voice. “Holy shit.”
“What’s wrong?” I roll to face him and see his eyes wide.
“Check me out.” He opens his eyes as wide as possible. “The light doesn’t bother me. It’s like the fog has lifted. I know it should come gradually, but I’m a new man.”
My first instinct is to grill him with cognitive questions, but that’s not my job. My job is to be his supportive boyfriend. “Best news of the day.” I kiss his jaw.
“Let’s make the news even better for today. I’m dying to be inside you. I need to fuck my boyfriend.” Austin stretches his neck to give me access to his Adam’s apple.
“Yes, but we need to take it slow.” I pin him with my leg and grind on him.
“Not slow.” Austin gathers my hands and pins them over my head.
“Such a bad patient,” I murmur in his ear, and watch him shudder. “We’re fucking but no pounding my ass like the sex-deprived maniac you are. We can be gentle and have incredible orgasms. Trust me?”
“With my life.” He bites my bottom lip.
Austin pulls me back when I reach for the side table. “Lube.” I wriggle out of his hold, and he lets me go. The cap snapping open echoes in our quiet room. “You can have the pleasure of opening me up, or I can do it. I’ll be faster.” I hold the bottle out of his reach.
“You are not depriving me of any part of your ass.” He snatches the lube from me and positions me flat on the bed. “It’s been torture. You back this ass up against me while we sleep but declare it off-limits.” Austin settles between my legs and kisses the tip of my leaking cock.
His slick fingers rim me, and I angle my hips, spreading my legs wider.
“I’m not the only sex-deprived maniac in the room.” Tinny sucks my inner thigh and leaves a mark.
“Hurry,” I groan, fucking myself on his thick fingers. “We’ll do it on our sides.”
He pushes a third finger inside me and sucks my cock down.
“Tinny,” I cry, already close to the edge.
“Don’t you dare come until I’m inside you.” He yanks his fingers out as my dick falls from his mouth. A chuckle escapes him as I growl in protest. “On your side. Tell me how we’re doing this.”
I sink into the bed and pull my top leg up to my chest. “Fuck me like this, and I’ll show you a trick.” My hand comes into contact with his hip, and I pull him toward me.
“Trick sex, huh? Interesting.” He lines himself up, and the stretch of his entry is the most welcome burn. My body has been hungry for him. Each stroke is slow, and I feel every inch of him.
I reach one arm back behind my head to thread my fingers in his short hair. He circles his pelvis and hits my gland, sending sparks of pleasure throughout my body.
“I never want to live without you,” he pants in my ear. “You are the most important person in my life.”
“I’m here, Tinny. I’m yours,” I declare, and his fingers dig into me. His thrusts get harder and wilder, which we need to avoid. It could prolong his recovery or worsen his symptoms even though he seems symptom-free.
“Get ready. We’re turning so you’re on your back.” I palm his ass cheek to keep our bodies connected and rise up so when he’s lying down, I’m riding him reverse cowboy.
“Holy fuck.” His hands wrap around my hips and pull me down onto his cock. “In my life, I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight as your ass swallowing my cock. You’re sucking me in. Sunshine, I won’t last long.”
“Thought I was the dirty talker.” My words come out breathy. “Fill me up so you’re inside me all day.” I increase my pace, slamming onto him.
“I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours. So they know we chose each other and no one else can have you. Ever.”
His words light up all my senses. The privilege of being claimed by my Tinny, my Austin, known as the famous Ace Lapointe, is monumental.
“No one else. Ever.” My hands are on his shins as we work in tandem to fuck me on his cock. Tinny moans and his legs spasm. He’s close, and I don’t want to miss watching his face while he orgasms. “Hold on, cowboy.” Even with my best effort, I can’t swing around and keep him inside me.
It’s worth it to see his eyes roll back in his head as I impale myself on his rock-hard length.
“I’m so close.” His hands circle my waist, thumbs stroking my stomach.
“Don’t hold back. Give me your cum.” My fingers splay across his chest, giving me leverage as I grind harder and faster, sweating with the effort.
I lean forward, and the change in angle creates a delicious drag against my prostate. My orgasm goes from a building pressure to a detonation of all of my cells. I’m scattered everywhere.
Tinny gathers me in his arms, buries his face in my neck, and pumps his cum into my ass. His embrace, whispers of love, and a flood of cum, bring me back together piece by piece. I’m disconnected, but he’s here to catch me and make me whole.
We’re clinging to each other as if afraid something will rip us apart. The only sounds are our harsh breaths and racing hearts.
With tremendous effort, I ease back. “Look at me, Tinny.”
Gorgeous blue eyes, filled with love, meet my gaze. His pupils are a normal size, and I move a finger for him to track.
He bursts out laughing. “No one else could blow my mind and then examine me for a head injury. I love you more than words.”
“We can’t be too careful.” I smack his ass. “Your brain is a vital part of you and, dare I say, one of your most important organs. We need to treat it with reverence and vigilance.”
“We should take a vacation, and I’ll let you pamper me and my brain in luxury.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I lay him down while he’s still lodged inside me.
“I’m serious. As soon as Doc clears me, we should go somewhere. It will take my mind off not being in the playoffs.” He pushes my damp hair back and cups my face. “With my concussion, the team isn’t counting on me for anything. It’s a rare time with no expectations.”
“You’re serious.” My heart rate kicks up. Tinny hasn’t taken more than a long weekend off in years. So long I can’t even remember.
“Let me take you away. Pick anywhere and we’ll go.”
My brain turns to mush as if I’m the one with the concussion. I love traveling with the team, but we don’t get to sightsee. The world suddenly seems too big, and the possibilities endless. It’s impossible to choose one place.
“Think about it and let me know.” He kisses me tenderly.
“I’ve always wanted to go to Greece. I fantasized about going to Camp Half-Blood with Percy Jackson as a kid and—”
“I’ll book us tickets,” Tinny interrupts me, reaching for his phone.
Joy bubbles inside me like a tangible thing. “Slow down, Ace,” I tease. “One thing at a time. Make an appointment to see Doc tomorrow, and we’ll plan from there.”
“Whatever shall we do until then?”
“I dreamed of strapping you to this bed.” I lace our fingers together and pull them above his head.
“I’m all yours, Sunshine.”