Chapter 9
Thayer
The last thing I should have done was put my hands on Ash–or hand, I suppose.
It was something I'd noticed that first week–he responded to control. He didn’t necessarily like giving up control, but he responded well to me taking it from him. I didn’t doubt that holding on to him would work, but I shouldn't have done it.
I definitely should not have done it when anyone could have walked in and seen it.
The room felt wired after that–overstimulating.
Ash rushed off to the showers, and I made myself busy with anything. I was anyone's lackey at that point, packing bags or massaging limbs until there were no tasks left for me.
We were meant to head back to Ann Arbor tonight, but with how much snow had fallen today, I doubted it very much. That doubt was confirmed when Reed came in, notifying the boys that they were staying in Kalamazoo tonight, whether they liked it or not.
Carp let out a groan, but I wasn’t sure if that was from the news or if I hit a nerve, massaging his shoulder for him. I assumed it was the news–the guys hated staying somewhere they didn’t have to, especially tonight.
They’d just lost a game to these jerks, pretty brutally.
A wave of boys came out of the showers, including Ash with a towel around his waist and a flush on his face that I was choosing to believe came from the shower. I forced my eyes back down at Carp, kneading his muscle with more focus than required–I clearly needed to reprimand my brain tonight.
It needed to stop doing things that would get us in trouble–like taking note of how the water dripping off Ash’s chest bent to each rigid muscle–stop.
“Better?” I asked Carp, lightly patting his shoulder as I straightened back out.
“Much–thanks,” he sighed, smiling up at me appreciatively.
Brushing my hands off, I caught just the lightest glance of Ash out of the corner of my eye and froze.
He was glaring at Carp, and if looks could kill, Carp would have been dead ten times over by now. I knew the two of them were roommates on campus, so the likelihood Carp had done something to piss him off was high.
It was apparently very easy to piss him off…and even easier to subdue him–nope.
The guys started packing up, clearing out of the locker room, and out to the bus to head to the hotel. I needed to speak with Ash, clear the air about what had happened, but he left in the wave of guys. I assumed he would be avoiding me again, not even looking at me.
But I discovered what was worse than Ash’s avoidance–his angry glare.
◆◆◆
The guys all had dinner together at the hotel, but Ash was in a mood. They’d pick on him and poke fun at the loss, but I could tell Ash was taking it more personally than all of them probably meant.
I’d been waiting patiently for Ash to separate off, but it was like he could tell–he stuck by Tommy like they were suddenly best friends. I watched those two eat so slowly you'd think I was watching paint dry, but when my moment struck, I didn’t hesitate.
Ash took his key from Reed, thanking him for something before heading off down the hall. The rest of the team had been separated to their rooms, leaving the coaching staff and Ash in the hallway.
They went to their rooms, and I pounced.
“Ash,” I said quickly, quietly, as I approached him in the empty hallway.
Ash didn’t slow down or even acknowledge me in any way–just kept on walking like he didn't hear me.
“Ash,” I said a little more sternly, fisting the hand that was fighting to reach up and grab the nape of his neck again.
“What?” he hissed, whipping his head around suddenly, stopping at the last door of the hallway.
“We need to talk–”
“We don’t,” he said plainly, his jaw clenching. “Just leave me alone–”
“Why are you so angry with me?” I asked, scrunching my face at him. It would make sense for him to be embarrassed or confused, but angry? “I want to apologize for–”
“Aren’t you a goalie coach?” he asked suddenly, surprising me enough to stutter and stop speaking, nodding eventually. “Then why were you helping Carp?”
The question threw me. “In the locker room?”
Ash let out a huff, rolling his eyes like…he was jealous?
No, surely not.
“I was just helping out,” I said slowly, eyeing his face and the way it got a little more irritated–his eyes rolled again. “His shoulder was jammed, and I was helping him–the same way I help you–”
“The same way,” he huffed, mocking it as he shook his head. “Right–I’m done with this now–”
Don’t touch him.
Don’t–
Without permission, my hand shot up to his neck, gripping it and making him go still.
Not stiff or resistant to my touch, but completely still.
He stopped talking, leveling out with just the faintest little whimper in his breath. I watched his eyes fall shut as he gave in to the hold slowly, lulling his head forward.
This was bad–this was so bad…and yet I wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t backing off–I was giving him what he needed–stop that.
Fuck.
“Key,” I said sternly, offering my other hand to him as he lazily dropped the room key into it.
Whatever was happening here, Ash liked it. He had the faintest whisper of a smile on his face–the first one I'd seen from him that was unrelated to pain relief. I could get half a smile from him when we talked about the music he liked or movies, but that one was real.
It was unfakeable.
Once the door was opened, I guided Ash through the door, shutting it behind me. He dropped his bag off his shoulder just as his legs started to wobble unsteadily. I was about to let go of him now that we were in private and he was relaxed, but he surprised me.
He gave in to the wobbling, hesitating for just a second before slowly moving to his knees in front of me.
Oh, god.
There was no fighting that–I was attracted to the kid. I'd been trying not to notice how attractive he was since the day I met him.
He was good-looking, sure, but that?
It had been a long time since I'd had someone that submissive for me.
When I was only indulging in wants at very specific times and places, my standards changed. I used to love this stuff when I was in college, but once my reputation mattered?
It was vanilla sex with vanilla men who would keep their mouths shut–that was it.
Having something hot, blonde, and whining for it?
God–for one reckless second I was willing to risk it all for ten seconds of this kid's mouth on me.
I hadn’t been this hard and ready for anyone in years, but when I pulled on his neck and made his head fall back, I almost cracked.
Those whines I’d been hearing–they were coming from a trembling lip and weak face. Ash was almost panting, eyes closed, and hands dangling limp at his sides.
I pinched a little tighter, and he opened his eyes, locking them on me, and shuddering.
The power this kid had over me right now–you’d think it was me on my knees for him.
“S-still normal?” he stuttered out, barely making the words out before his eyes fell shut again. I wasn’t sure what he was asking me, at least not until I looked over his body and found what he was so concerned about.
There at his waist, tenting his sweatpants, was an aggressive imprint of his erection. I’d made a point to block out how many times I'd seen him get hard over the last few weeks, but now that I was permitting myself, it was all I could see.
And it looked painful.
Oh, god–I really should have just let go and left. I had no business doing any of this.
This was it–the point you didn’t come back from.
“Still normal,” I said slowly, deeply, as I knelt in front of him. “You feel okay, Ash?”
His face buckled, but his eyes stayed on mine. “What’s wrong with me?” he breathed, letting out a soft moan when my thumb shifted against his heated skin–more grounding than controlling now.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” I said quietly, letting him enjoy the massage on his neck as his head lulled back again. “You want me to let go?”
This needed to stop–I knew that.
I knew exactly what I was doing…I just didn’t stop.
Ash blinked, like it took effort to process. His mouth parted, closed, then opened again. His brows pulled together faintly, something uncertain flickering through his expression.
His gaze locked on mine again, sharper this time—aware, even if just barely.
“No.”