Three #2
I’ve been there before, got the heartbreak t-shirt, and swore I would never wear it again.
I pull my attention away from my teammates, who are busy making jokes at my expense, and glance out at the bustling bar. There’s so many people around, and the atmosphere feels awesome, everyone buzzing from our win.
And then it’s like the sea of bodies parts, and the universe decides to hit me with the biggest temptation. Stealing my breath away like a slap shot to the sternum.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head hitting the back of the booth.
When I need to be on my best behavior, life decides to throw weakness into my path.
Because the blond guy from the penalty box has just walked into Gino’s.
The guy I soaked with his own beer during warm-ups.
The guy with the bluest eyes I have ever seen.
He’s temptation personified.
He’s walking toward the bar, his head tipped back in laughter at something his friend said.
I hope he's only a friend.
They slip into a gap just in front of Dylan, and it’s like my body is drawn to his. I’m standing before I know it, ignoring Ethan’s questioning eyes as I slide past him.
“Blaine? What are you doing?” His voice is low and commanding behind me.
I come to a halt a few feet away, allowing myself to take in the blond hottie before he sees me.
He must only be a few inches shorter than me.
Hair shaved short on the sides, left longer on top, so much so that it’s beginning to curl.
When I saw him during warm-up, it was the color of his eyes that captivated me.
Bright blue, like the ocean in the Maldives.
And those sinful, plump lips?
Fuck. I can just imagine them stretched around my cock while those big blue eyes look up at me.
The jersey he’s wearing does nothing to hide his rounded shoulders. Black skinny jeans highlight long, lean legs that would look so fucking good wrapped around my waist.
“Blaine…” Ethan warns. “Don’t even think about it.”
But there’s something in my gut saying this guy might be different. It’s like my Spidey senses are telling me he won’t cause me media nightmares, despite the fact I can hear Hayden and Coach Harris’ voices in my head warning me about distractions.
Still…
“What if he’s different? What if he’s the right person you just mentioned?” I voice my thoughts out loud.
But as I take another step closer, I hit another wall of doubt.
Would someone want to get to know me for me? Not because I’m Blaine Olsen, NHL player with millions in the bank, ass all over the Internet, sitting second in the points, but for me ? The guy off the ice, the guy who doesn’t like to be front and center of the scandals?
The guy who uses meaningless hookups as a chance to feel? Even if the feelings are only short-lived?
The guy who has never really known what it’s like to be loved by someone other than the person I shared a womb with and my family?
I have no fucking idea, and I still have no idea what I’m doing when I find myself closing the distance to this guy, sliding into a gap beside him and his friend at the bar. The warning bells are still buzzing in my ears.
“Hey.” I plaster on my most charming smile. “I think I owe you a drink.”
I can’t help but glance at where his beer spilled down on him earlier to see that his jeans are now dry.
He startles, those hot-as-sin lips parting on a gasp, almost like he’s shocked I remembered him, let alone come over. It takes all my restraint not to lean in and press my lips against that spot above his collar just to see if his pulse is fluttering as wildly as I think it is.
“I’m Blaine. I’m sorry for knocking your drink over earlier.” I hold my hand out.
He slips his hand against mine, and goose bumps erupt over my skin. I lean in closer, inhaling his delicious scent. He smells like citrus and pine, mixed with the lingering smell of the rink.
He says nothing, so I go on.
“Only a little bit, though.” I step in close, angling my head so my lips brush against the shell of his ear. “I would have fucking loved to have helped peel you out of those soaked jeans.”
His fair brows hit his hairline, and his eyes go wide. He stares at me, his mouth gaping like a fish. It seems to take him a few beats to come back to his senses.
“I’m Alex.” His voice is smoky, the kind that could get you hard just from listening to them recite the alphabet. “And I would have loved to have you help me out of my pants.”
Well, fuck me sideways.
And Alex?
Now that’s a name I haven’t moaned before.
I create some distance between us. One, I know I’m playing with fire, and I can sense Ethan’s eagle-eyed stare in the back of my head; and second, I’m already half hard from the way his tongue keeps darting out to wet his bottom lip.
He tugs at the front of his jersey nervously, bringing my attention to the “ C” stitched to the front. What is it with Ethan trying to fucking cockblock me tonight?
“Alex, you wound me.” I place my hand over my heart, feigning hurt. “Here’s me hitting on you, and you’re wearing another man’s jersey.”
He looks down at his chest, letting out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’ve had this for years. It’s the only one I have.”
When he raises his head, the expression on his face surprises me. He looks genuinely… apologetic?
“I’m only messin’ with you.” I cup his elbow, bringing him to stand next to me. “What can I get you?”
Alex looks over his shoulder to where his friend went. As if sensing his eyes on him, his friend turns his head and winks before returning his attention to the guy he’s talking to. I send a telepathic thank you for allowing me some uninterrupted time with Alex.
“I’ll have a beer, please.”
I wave to get Dylan’s attention before looking back at Alex.
I take in his features, a cute button nose, full, pillowy lips.
A cupid's bow that’s just begging to be kissed.
His face has a youthful glow but a jawline so sharp it could cut glass.
He looks younger than me, possibly a senior in college based on this air of innocence about him.
And not just because of his fucking adorable blushing, but a sense of purity.
Purity ready for me to corrupt.
He’s fucking breathtaking.
When Dylan slides the beers across, I raise mine for a toast, clinking our bottles together, and I watch intently as he takes a swig, at how his throat bobs when he swallows. I take a sip of mine, running my tongue over my lips slowly, keeping my eyes locked on his.
He follows the movement, teasing the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.
I’m burning with the inferno that I’m playing with, but nothing could stop me.
Not Coach.
Not Ethan.
Not Hayden.
Most certainly not myself.
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
Cringe, is that really the line you ’ re coming out with, Olsen?
“That’s because I haven’t been here before.” He tilts his head curiously. “Do you make a habit of knocking people's drinks over and then hitting on them later?”
Well, shit.
I chuckle nervously. “What can I say? I thought you were hot and needed to cool down a bit. You were distracting me.”
He raises an eyebrow, his full lips twitching in amusement, and takes a sip of his beer. When he leans his head back, I take a chance and step into his space. Our chests press together, the hitch in his breath making all the blood in my body rush straight to my cock.
Blaine Olsen, two minutes for popping a boner in public.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
His face lights up with a shy smile at my compliment. I press my finger under his chin when his head drops, lifting it to make him look at me. His blue eyes have turned dark with desire. The rise and fall of his chest tells me he feels this.
This electric current between us. It’s palpable, like lightning hitting the ocean in the middle of a storm. It was there during warm-ups and again when I was sent to the box.
“Did you enjoy the game?”
He nods. “It was amazing; that slap shot of yours was something else.” I'm hypnotized by his smile. “And that fight?”
I’m taken by surprise as he cups my jaw with his hand, brushing his thumb gently over the cut on my lip. A low purr rumbles deep in my chest under his touch. It's so gentle, but at the same time, it’s like my body has been charged with a thousand volts. I’m vibrating with need.
A need to taste him.
A need to hear him moan.
A need to know just how low that fucking blush goes.
“It was so fucking hot,” he whispers, teasing me.
Fuck, he’s killing me.
“Yeah?”
He nods, sucking on his bottom lip as his hooded gaze moves from my mouth to my eyes. “Does it hurt?”
I nip the tip of his thumb with my teeth. My dick jerks against the fly of my pants as he lets out a shaky breath.
“No, but if I said yes, would you kiss it better?”
That gorgeous blush spreads across his cheeks, tipping down his neck and under his collar.
I place my bottle on the bar top behind me before sliding my hands around his trim waist, pulling him close.
A low groan escapes me when our erections brush together, and then I run my nose up the slender column of his neck, breathing in his heady scent.
Once I reach his ear, his entire body shudders as I flick my tongue over the lobe.
He’s so fucking responsive.
I want to strip him naked, explore his body with my tongue, and elicit the filthiest noises from him.
“Come home with me.”
My heart is going wild. I'm high on him. I want him under me. Riding me. I want to hear his gasps as I fill him up with my cock. I want to hear him moaning my name, begging me for more. I want to watch his face as his body is overcome with pleasure only I can give him.
I want it all.
I want…
“No.”
Wait...
What?
I take a step back to look him in the eye. There's no way I heard that right.
Did he just say… “No?”
He shakes his head. His neck flushes a deep pink, and his eyes close and his jaw clenches, like it’s taking every ounce of willpower in his body. He bites his bottom lip, and when he opens his eyes again, those radiant blues are completely blown out with desire.
I take a quick glance down. The bulge of his erection is visible in his jeans. He's just as turned on as I am, but he said no?
I don’t understand. This is a first for me. I can’t recall a situation where both parties have wanted one another so blatantly, yet nothing is going to happen.
“I’m sorry, Blaine.” He raises a hand to cup my jaw again.
“You have no idea how sorry I am, but boys like you are my kryptonite, and I’m so tired of being hurt.
” He leans in, pressing those delicious lips to the corner of my mouth in a tender kiss.
“You might be used to getting anyone you want with a snap of your fingers, but if you want me, you’re gonna have to work a little harder than just laying on the charm.
It may work on everyone else, but I’m not everyone else, and I don’t want to be another notch in your bedpost.”
I watch as he walks away, losing sight of him as the crowd swallows him.
Never in my twenty-seven years has anyone ever turned me down.
Everyone wants me.
Everyone wants a piece of me.
Instead, I’m left speechless and insanely hard.
Did he just... turn me down?