Chapter 16 Gus #2
Everyone in this town supported us. Everyone rooted for us. Everyone wished us well. Just being here felt like being showered in uncomplicated kindness.
That had to be why I’d stayed so long. Smithton felt like home.
Coach Beekman sidled next to me, clinking his glass to mine. “You had a good game tonight.”
“Thanks. I wish we could have sneaked in another couple of goals.”
“You and me both, but we had a great run. The best we’ve had in many years.”
And I’d been around for six of them.
I smiled wanly. “Yeah.”
“This probably isn’t a great time, but I heard you’ve been in touch with Coach Finley at the high school. He contacted me the other day for a referral, says you’re his number one candidate to take the assistant coaching gig.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and incidentally, the referral is a formality. He wants you, and I think you’d do a damn fine job. Are you serious about coaching? I seem to recall something about law school.”
“Law school isn’t for me,” I said diplomatically.
“But coaching a slew of hormonal hockey hopefuls is?”
“I think it would be cool. And I think I’d be pretty good at it.”
Coach’s once-over had an edge to it. “You’d be damn good, and they’d be lucky to have you.”
I did a double take. “I…thanks.”
“There’s a reason you’ve been captain for the past few years, Langley.
You might not be the fastest skater, the highest scorer, or the best on defense, but you excel at making others believe that they might be.
That’s a talent. The fact that you love the game too makes you a natural.
With a little experience at the high school under your belt, you’d be a shoo-in on my staff.
Hell, you might even take my job one day. ”
We chuckled as if sharing a joke, but my head was reeling.
First of all, Coach was stingy with praise.
He didn’t bullshit or placate. If he believed in me, he meant it, and the part of me that had been busy mending broken pieces really fucking needed to hear that someone I respected thought I had potential.
I immediately thought of Rafe and turned to seek him out in the crowd as Coach drifted off to speak to Ty and Walker. There he was…in the corner—with Eli.
Brady bumped my elbow just then, snatching my Coke from my hand and replacing it with a beer. “Drink up, buttercup. This piss water will have to do till we break out the tequila. Party at your house, right?”
I set the beer on a nearby table, pulling Brady in for a sideways bro hug before he could protest and ruffled his hair. I’d found the art of diversion worked to keep my friends from hounding me about my puzzling new lack of interest in partying.
“It’s your turn to host.”
Brady pushed me away, brows furrowed indignantly as he smoothed his hair into place. “We have an apartment, you have a house. C’mon, I’ll help get the word out and—”
“Not tonight.” I checked the corner again and stepped away.
Brady grabbed my arm. “Whoa. You’re seeing someone, huh?”
“Am I?”
“Who is she?” He scanned the restaurant.
“Bye, Brade.”
“Gimme a hint,” he cajoled.
“Text me. I’ll meet up with you guys later.”
Okay, that was a lie. Didn’t care.
I made a beeline for Rafe and Eli, and made a point of giving the pinky bandit a slightly hostile once-over. “Eli. How’s it goin’?”
“Great. Congrats on your season.” His smile was pleasant enough, but his lazy hand on Rafe’s waist made me want to knock his teeth out.
“Thanks. Hey, I need to grab my roomie for a sec. ’Scuse us.”
Rafe didn’t protest, but he gave me a WTF look when I stopped behind a plastic plant. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s get out of here.”
Rafe widened his eyes. “Now? Everyone will be looking for you.”
“They can wait. What about Eli? Can you get rid of him?”
“Yeah, we didn’t come together, but—”
“Good. I want you.”
He nodded. “Meet you outside.”
My truck was at the rink, so we took Rafe’s old beater and navigated the empty streets toward the Bluffs…at a fucking snail’s pace.
“Pedal to the metal, Rafey. I have blue balls, and you’re torturing me with slow driving and sappy music,” I huffed, slumping in the passenger seat of Rafe’s car.
“Don’t you dare diss Sarah McLachlan. I love her.”
“I can’t decide if you’re an old soul or if you’re a middle-aged woman disguised as a college student.”
Rafe barked a laugh. “That would make me a cougar, and you’d be my boy toy.”
“Boy toy?” I snickered. “And how does that work?”
“I think I call the shots and boss you around. I can work with that,” he teased.
“Another time. Did I mention my blue balls? My dick is suffocating.” I unfastened my seat belt as he whizzed down Milton Street and soon had my jeans open and shoved low enough that I could free my cock while Rafe sputtered in shock beside me.
“What are you—you can’t do that! Put your clothes on,” he growled through his teeth. “You’re going to get us arrested.”
“Nah. Everyone in this whole town is at Vincento’s. Even the cops.”
More sputtering. On the upside, he punched the gas and sped through a yellow streetlight. But this was still Rafe we were talking about. He had questions.
“This is a big night for you. Shouldn’t you be with your friends?”
“No, I want to be with you. Thanks for coming tonight,” I said, lazily stroking my cock.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed it. We were sitting next to a—” He cast a quick glance at my crotch. “Oh, my God. I can’t talk to you like this. Put your penis back in your pants.”
I snickered. “I can’t get my zipper over this python. Drive faster.”
He did.
And the second he pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine, Rafe undid his seat belt, lunged across the console, and swallowed me whole. I inhaled sharply, shocked into silence as he bobbed his head on my lap. He released me, his hand still gripping my pole as he met my eyes.
“You have to fuck me.”
“I plan on it, baby.” I kissed him roughly, biting his bottom lip and dragging it between my teeth. “C’mon.”
We made it inside the house, tripping and bouncing off the walls in an effort to shed our clothes without losing physical contact.
Shirts and jackets gone, shoes off, jeans hiked around our knees.
We rutted like animals with roving hands, our tongues twisting greedily.
I stumbled near the stairs, holding Rafe to cushion his fall, never stopping the urgent thrust of my hips.
He pushed me away, wordlessly turned to kneel on the steps as he lowered his boxer briefs, and presented his gorgeous ass to me like a gift.
“What are you waiting for?” Rafe purred.
“Lube. Stay.”
Yeah, my vocabulary had been reduced to early caveman speak, but that couldn’t be helped. I shucked off my jeans and boxer briefs, and hurried to find some lube. I returned to find Rafe with his thighs spread, two fingers in his hole.
“Mmm, hurry.”
I uncapped the lube, slicked my fingers, and slid them in beside his, loving his low throaty groan. When I was sure he was stretched and ready, I tapped my cock on his pucker and eased inside his tight channel.
“You feel fucking perfect…so good.”
We fucked hard, fast, and wild. There was nothing sweet or remotely tender in the act.
It was pure and simple release. I might have felt guilty or worried I was too rough, but Rafe demanded more and more.
He reached back to dig his fingernails into my flank, moaning my name like a prayer or a curse as he jerked himself with his free hand.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh, there…yes, I’m—”
His hole spasmed around my cock, and there was nothing I could do to stave off the inevitable fall. I bucked my hips, filling him with everything I had in me.
I gently pulled out, bracing my weight on the railing. “I wish you could see this view, baby. My cum is trickling out of your hole. Day-um.”
Rafe snort-laughed. “That’s so gross.”
“No, it’s hot.” I ran my fingers through the trail of cum and traced a heart on his right butt cheek.
“Are you really drawing on my ass?”
I hummed and wrote “mine” on the other cheek, then smacked it lightly and stood on shaky legs. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll grab a towel.”
We cleaned up and sat on the stairs, side by side.
The fine hair on his upper thigh and forearm tickled mine.
I could smell the remnants of aftershave and soap mixed with the intoxicating scent of sex and sweat.
Mmm. So good. My bones ached and my muscles were sore all over, but I’d never felt better.
Rafe rested his head on my shoulder briefly. “You had a great game tonight. I’m sorry you didn’t win.”
“Me too. It’s official now…I’m done playing hockey. Kinda surreal.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’ve had some time to process the inevitable. It’s scary to do with a clear mind, but it is what it is, and it’s not like I don’t have prospects.” I rubbed Rafe’s knee, unthinking, and told him about my chat with Coach Beekman.
Rafe grinned. “That’s amazing. Sounds like you have a job.”
“Not quite. I have to formally interview, and there might be better qualified candidates. It’s just nice to have Coach’s support. That means a lot. Especially since I know I haven’t always been an exemplary role model.”
“You?” he chided sarcastically.
“Hey, I’m a reformed asshole. At least I’m giving it a shot.”
Rafe laced our fingers. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re going to be amazing.”
I kissed his temple. “Thanks, but we’re done worrying about me. Let’s concentrate on you now.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re gonna shake out the yips and get you into those championships.”
He sighed. “I hope so.”
“No, no, no. It’s happening.”
“How? I can’t skip stones all day, Gus.”
“I’m no one-trick pony. I’ve got other methods. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
Rafe cocked his brow in amusement. “Well, I don’t have any better ideas, so why not?”
“Love that enthusiasm!” I raised my hand for a high five, then drew him to his feet and hugged him tight. “C’mon, we stink and you’re cold. Let’s shower, find some ice cream, and watch the next episode of our show. I think we’re gonna find out who the killer is tonight.”
“Yeah, but…wait. Don’t you want to meet up with your friends?”
I frowned. “No, I want to be here. With you.”
That was obviously the right answer. Rafe’s smile was wide and bright.
I got the feeling he wasn’t used to being anyone’s first choice, but he was mine. That should have been a mildly alarming thought, and maybe it would be tomorrow. Tonight, I was content and happy, and that was enough.