19. Hayden
Chapter 19
Hayden
Pope lingers at the arena after practice while everyone else leaves, a common enough occurrence now not to draw attention. I give him tasks to keep him out of my hair, his nervous energy getting in the way of the paperwork I really have to finish before I can call it a night. He pouts adorably, even making a comment about me treating him like a kid with chores, but it works. Twenty minutes after I send him away, my shelves are restocked and organized, my paperwork is finished, and I’m free to go.
He’s in a playful mood tonight, his nervous energy making him a little squirrely. He spends the entire ride to my place giving me shit, his laughter warm as I play the part of the grump who doesn’t appreciate his shit. First, he makes fun of the podcast that begins playing the moment my phone syncs up with the radio— The Seven Years’ War? Really? Do I have to pick every podcast for you from now on? Let’s at least switch to the Vikings one we never got to finish.
Then I have to endure teasing about my careful driving— the snow isn’t even sticking to the pavement. You can go a little faster, Grandpa.
“And I’m not drinking that cherry juice,” he adds as we turn onto my street. “I saw you sneak a bottle into your bag. I’m onto you.”
I just smirk, which makes him say in exasperation, “I’m serious, I’m not!”
“You’re adorable.”
He grumbles something under his breath, but doesn’t argue further.
It’s only as I’m parking in my apartment’s lot that I suddenly realize I’m bringing him home. Ridiculously, I find myself feeling nervous.
“It’s not much,” I say as I lead him to my door and take out my keys. “I didn’t have long to shop around.”
“I pictured you in a house. You seem like the kind of guy to be all stable and… adult .”
I smirk. “I mean, I am an adult, so that tracks. But I’m not buying a house here.”
“No?” He adjusts his hat. “Why not?”
Considering this is our date night, I don’t think this is really the conversation we should have at the moment. The words I don’t plan on sticking around sound a little cruel. And, now that I think about it, untrue as well. Could I really leave him here? And what if he gets pulled up and moves to Detroit full-time? Or gets traded across the damn country? Would I follow him? Is it ridiculous to even consider any of this at all when we’ve only been together less than a week?
All I know is that tonight is not the night I want to deal with that topic, so I shift the conversation. “Do you want to talk about houses or pick out what kind of pizza you want to order?”
His eyes light up, my words providing the distraction I was hoping for. “We’re getting pizza? That’s not on my meal plan.”
“It’s date night, right?” I flash him a playful smile. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Fuck yeah.” He kicks off his shoes and places them beside my running sneakers before pulling out his phone. “Can we get breadsticks too?”
“Sure.” I rest a hand on the small of his back, guiding him toward the living room. He plops down on the couch without argument as he scrolls through the pizza delivery options. I like how easily he lets me maneuver him. Not only because it turns me on, but because it means he trusts me. He even lets me remove that Red Sox cap of his and fluff his damp hair. It smells like the standard kind of shampoo most athletes use. The ones meant to smell manly. It should turn me off, the immaturity of it, but it just makes me want him more—my young, submissive jock.
I let myself enjoy the feel of his hair between my fingers, slowly stroking the strands and scraping my nails against his scalp. His hand goes slack in his lap, his head rolling back against the top of the couch and his eyes sliding closed. “Fuck, that’s nice.”
“Good.” I keep running my hand through his hair while grabbing his phone with my free hand. He has a large mushroom and pepperoni pizza in the cart. I add a large container of wings too since he’s going to need protein with his carbs, getting a few different sauces on the side. Then I’m extra mean and order a salad for us to share. “I’m going to have to stop in a moment though to get my card. I don’t have it memorized.”
“Mine’s saved on my phone. Just use that.”
“I can’t let you pay on the first date.”
He rolls his head to the left without picking it up off the couch and squints at me. “How are you managing to be misogynistic in our two-man relationship?”
“It’s not misogynistic, it’s gentlemanly. My ma would whoop my ass if she found out I let a date pay on the first round.”
“But what if my ma would do the same? Why is your ma’s whooping more important than mine?”
I chuckle. “Would your ma whoop you?”
“Honestly? Not sure.” Something passes over his face for a moment that makes his eyebrows pull together and his lips turn down. Then he closes his eyes and relaxes again. “You can pay me back if it’s that important. Use my card for now. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Feeling needy?” I ask. I try to make it sound teasing, but it doesn’t come out that way. It comes out all soft and warm and pathetically in love. I want him to be needy for me so damn bad, it’s not even funny.
His cheeks turn pink, but his voice is soft and warm too when he admits, “Yeah, I am.”
The confession is a little like a gut-punch, if a gut-punch could both steal your breath and make your entire body buzz with happiness.
“That’s okay.” I scoot closer to him as I choose the saved card option on the app and add my address for the delivery. When the order confirmation pops up, I toss his phone on the cushion beside him and wrap my arm around his shoulders to pull him against my chest. He comes easily, a soft sound of contentment falling from his lips as I take his weight. “It’s going to be eighty minutes. What would you like to do in the meantime?”
He’s quiet for a moment, the gears in his head working so hard I can practically hear them. Then, “I want you to teach me how to suck your cock.”
I can’t help the sharp burst of air that escapes at his words. I was nowhere near prepared for that. I was expecting—well, it doesn’t even fucking matter what I was expecting. This is definitely what we’re doing.
“Get on your knees then, sweetheart.”
He shudders, not even hesitating before sliding to the floor and moving between my parted legs. Wide green eyes settle on my face, bright against his pink cheeks.
That pretty blush of his is starting to travel down his throat beneath his hoodie. That won’t do. I want to see how far that blush goes.
“Come here.” I lean forward, grabbing the bottom of his sweatshirt and starting to pull. He lifts his arms when he realizes what I’m after, letting me work the fabric over his head and off him. There’s no shirt underneath, letting me see what I wanted—the blush is settled all the way down between his pecs. I graze my fingertips along the barrier before lifting my hand to press below his jaw, tilting his face until his eyes are locked on me. I smile. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
He tries to duck his head but I don’t allow it, using my fingers that are still under his jaw to keep it up. His teeth find his bottom lip as a consolation, biting down hard enough to dent the supple flesh. I make a mental note to soothe it with my tongue later.
“I bet you hear how hot you are all the time, right? How fucking sexy you are with all these muscles and tattoos. I’ve seen the thirst traps puck bunnies have made of you. Hell, I’ve watched a few of them more than once. Have my favorite saved on my phone.” I let my lips curve into a grin when his eyes widen and his previously disappearing blush makes a reappearance. “But has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?”
He exhales shakily. “No.”
I run my fingers along his jaw before dragging them to his face, my eyes following the movements as I touch a pink cheek, a dented lip, a freckle at the corner of his mouth, the spot where his dimple will appear the next time I pull a smile from him, up the side of his temple to a scarred eyebrow, across his forehead, down his nose, along that same pink cheek. I pause at his ear before giving his lobe a gentle tug that has him jerking in either surprise or pleasure. I make another mental note to test it later with my teeth.
“You always look hot, Pope. You look like sex on a fucking stick.” I chuckle as his eyes flash with heat, his lips parting for a shaky breath. “But you are beautiful. The way you clearly care about your teammates, helping them in the dressing room and having their backs on the ice. The way you light up when you get excited. Your laugh when it’s genuine. Your real smile, too. The way you fly across that ice like it’s as easy as breathing. How good you were with the little kids yesterday. How hard you work despite whatever it is we both know you’re dealing with. The way you fucking melted when I called you a good boy.”
I pause, cupping his blushing cheek. He leans into the touch, eyelashes fluttering. “And you know what, baby?”
He’s breathless when he asks, “What?”
“You’re going to be fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”
The sound he makes is high-pitched and needy. I feel his hands grab onto my ankles, then move up quickly until they’re at my thighs. He doesn’t push further, just gripping my pants there like they’re a lifeline. “Can I start now?”
“So eager.” I lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that he instantly latches onto. He presses into it, making it desperate and greedy until it’s a mess of spit and teeth. He chases me for a second when I pull back before settling on his heels. I chuckle. “Do you want to keep kissing or do you want to have your lesson?”
“The lesson. Definitely the lesson.”
“Good.” I relax back against the couch cushions and start removing my belt. Pope’s eyes immediately lock onto the action, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Are you comfortable down there? Want a pillow or anything?”
“I’m fucking great,” he says without moving his gaze away from my hands.
His enthusiastic response has me softly laughing as I move onto the buttons of my pants. There are a lot of things that are sexy about this man, but his eagerness right now to suck my cock is pretty damn up there. Not just because consent is sexy, but the thought that him pleasing me makes him this happy is intoxicating.
I watch his face closely as I lower my zipper and tug down my pants and briefs just enough to release my cock. It springs free, slapping against my stomach before bobbing to a stop. His face doesn’t disappoint. It’s all awe and hunger and curiosity, his pupils dilated and his lips parted for a shaky breath. I fight the urge to reach out, wanting to touch the pink that’s once again on his cheeks but not wanting to startle him.
He doesn’t fight his own urge however, his hand immediately darting out to grab the base of my cock. I suck in a breath, not at all prepared for the warm, heavy feeling of his calloused fingers wrapping around me.
“Sorry. I just— fuck .” He exhales, his face close enough for the air to pass over the sensitive skin not covered by his hand. I hadn’t even realized he’d moved closer but he definitely has. “Don’t make me let go.”
There’s no breathy laughter on my end this time, despite how much I’m still loving the enthusiasm. I’m way too turned on now. “You can keep it, baby.”
“What do I do?” He peers up at me through his lashes, looking like a goddamn wet dream. “I want to make you feel good. Tell me how.”
I reach for his hand, sliding it up until his thumb is tucked just under my crown, right where the skin bulges out a little. I press down so he can feel it and tell him, “Right under there is my most sensitive spot. And if you follow that down—” I guide his hand back down so his thumb glides along a vein there. “—that whole strip is pretty sensitive too. Anything going up and down on this feels fucking amazing, but if you flatten your tongue every once in a while and drag it along that line, that’s perfect.”
He nods, still not taking his eyes off my cock. I can practically see him cataloging everything I just told him.
“How about I talk you through it?” I ask. “Put that mouth to work?”
His swallow is audible. “Now?”
“Whenever you’re ready, go ahead.” I rest my hand on his wrist, not to control his movements but to give him some support. “Just watch your teeth, okay?”
“Fuck. Yeah. Definitely know that one already.” He laughs softly, seeming to relax a little as he remembers that he’s not completely clueless about blowjobs. He knows plenty from being on the other end of them. Not that I want to think too much about any blowjobs he got before our night in the hotel, but if it makes him feel better, he can.
“Okay. Alright.” He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Okay. And you’ll—you’ll tell me if I’m doing it wrong?”
I don’t let myself laugh, not wanting him to get self-conscious, but it’s a close call. “You aren’t going to do it wrong, baby. But I’ll help you learn how to be great at it. How about that?”
“Yeah.” He finally looks away from my cock to look into my eyes. When I give him a smile, he seems to relax some more. “I trust you.”
The words might just do more to me than his hand on my cock.
But his mouth suddenly wrapping around my tip takes the cake.
“ Fuck .” I clench my free hand into a fist, trying to maintain some semblance of control as his eagerness spills over into messy slurps and licks. There’s zero finesse, but it doesn’t matter. My head is already going fuzzy with pleasure and want.
“Slow down,” I manage to instruct, remembering my promise to talk him through this. “Savor it, baby.”
He obeys so fucking easily, immediately slowing his movements and even softening the suction so he can just appreciate the feel of it on his tongue.
“Good.” I bring my hand to his hair, stroking it lightly. It sends shivers through him, goosebumps popping up along his arms. “Now, slowly bob your head up and down. Keep the suction light. Take as much of it as you can.”
Lifting up on his knees, he braces himself against the couch and brings his mouth back to my cock. I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling at the feeling of his mouth slowly gliding down, surpassing the initial inch or two he was brave enough to play with before and charting new territory. He makes it further than I expect before gagging for the first time, his body shuddering as he immediately pulls back. He blinks rapidly, eyes wide and locked on me, as he swallows.
“That was good, baby. Try it again. Just relax. Breathe through your nose.” I stroke his hair again before cupping the back of his head just enough to guide him forward. “It feels good regardless of how deep you can take me. Don’t push yourself, okay?”
There’s a slight determination in his eyes when they flick up to me, making me think he’s seeing this as a challenge. I roll my eyes fondly and nudge him back to my cock. He’s faster this time, moving his mouth right down to where he gagged before. I smile at him as he clearly fights the urge to gag, his shoulders tense and his hands clenching against the couch. Such a stubborn boy.
“Just suck for a minute.” I wrap my fist around the root of my cock so he can’t go down further even if he wanted to. “Flick your tongue—fuck, yeah. Fuck, okay. That’s—yeah, Ethan. Good.”
I melt into the back of the couch, nearly laughing at how good it feels to have him so eagerly sucking me. He’s doing well, too. Sucking just right and gently bobbing an inch or two, with a little flick of tongue added every few strokes. I wait until he’s really gotten into it before removing my hand and nudging the back of his head again. He shifts his weight forward and lets his mouth glide further, heavy breaths coming in through his nose as he moves.
He takes nearly all of me before gagging again. He doesn’t panic this time, though, just backing up enough to be comfortable before doing what he did before—the sucking, bobbing, tongue flicking that already has my balls drawing up tight.
“That’s it. Good boy.”
He moans, sucking harder, bobbing faster. He presses his tongue against the spot I showed him, a firm pressure, and heat rolls down my spine. I can feel my cock pulsing in his mouth, ready to spill. Can’t have that.
“Ah, fuck.” I tighten my fist in his hair and pull him off, his mouth releasing my cock with a lude pop . “That was good. Fuck, that was really good.”
His eyes shine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I card my fingers through his hair, loving the way he shivers and melts beneath the action. “I don’t want to come like this, though. Not if you want to do more?”
“More?” he asks, his eyes glazed and his lips slick. There’s a trickle of spit on his chin. I swipe it with my thumb, moaning when he immediately sucks it clean for me.
“I want to fuck you, if you want me to. If you’re ready.”
In a single blink, his eyes are clear and vibrant with delight. “Yes.”
“Let me show you the bedroom then.”
“ Yes ,” he says again, even more eagerly this time. He stands and reaches down to fist my shirt before yanking me up off the couch like he’s picking up a damn feather.
I frown at him, ignoring the fact that my cock definitely just twitched at the move. “This is silk, you little shit. You’re lucky it didn’t rip.”
“Fancy.” He raises an eyebrow, showing off the confidence that only peeks out on the ice and when he’s in a playful mood. “Want to fuck me while you wear it?”
“No! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a stain out of silk?” He bites down on his lip, clearly trying not to laugh. I step up to him, glad he only has an inch on me, and loosely grip his throat. His smile immediately dissolves until he’s slack jawed and breathing heavily. “You’re being awfully sassy to the man who is about to pound your ass.”
He grunts a soft, “ Fuck ,” before muttering, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Good boy.”
He shivers, a whimper coming from his throat. But then he tenses and blurts, “But wait—what about the pizza?”
I can’t help but laugh at how surprisingly agonized he sounds over the realization he might lose out on pizza if he chooses to get fucked right now. Or maybe not so surprising. I know better than to get between an athlete and his cheat meal.
“No contact delivery. They’ll leave it at the door and I’ll go get it after.” When he still looks unsure, I sweeten the deal. “Come on, what’s better than eating pizza in bed after some great sex?”
He looks convinced then. Maybe a little too convinced though because his damn mischievous smirk is back. “Confident, are we? Who says it’ll be great sex?”
“Oh, Ethan.” I shake my head. “That’s the second challenge you’ve given me tonight. When I have you sobbing later, remember that you asked for this, alright?”