Sucker Punched (Nashville Parliament #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Jake

“Holy shit. His dick is fucking huge!”

My friend Logan gasped in my ear. “You can’t say something like that and not share!”

“I’m not sure your Daddy would approve of you getting dick pics from a rando on Grindr.”

Trent, one of Logan’s boyfriends, sighed in the background. “But now you’ve said it, so you have to show him or Logan is going to bug everyone to death until we get a Grindr account and find him. And we all know there are way too many dicks on that app to narrow anything down.”

I snorted at the two and wondered what their other boyfriend, Aiden, would have said about our conversation if he had been there too. Would he have been resigned like Trent or eager like Logan? Knowing Aiden, he probably would have been excited and demanded to see it as well.

Logan whistled low when I forwarded the profile pic to him. “Holy shit! That’s the third most gorgeous dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Pup, stop being ridiculous.” Movement could be heard behind Logan and when Trent’s voice came again it was much closer to the phone. “I take that back. That is a gorgeous dick.”

“You’re messaging him, right?” Logan asked. If he’d had his tail in, it would have been wagging with the excitement pouring out of him.

I looked at the guy’s location again. StickOut55 must have been at the bar next door to the hotel I was staying at. Since I was stuck in Knoxville for the night after a training course had run long, I had nothing else to do. And it had been so long since I’d had a good fuck, I was overdue.

BeardedBabyBlue

Busy tonight?

The message was read almost immediately but bubbles didn’t appear for nearly a minute.

StickOut

I guess that depends.

BeardedBabyBlue

On?

StickOut

What you’re wanting, sexy.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see him—I blushed at the remark.

I didn’t want to sound like a total idiot, so I ended up hesitating before replying. Sure, I wanted a hard fuck I would feel the next day, but I didn’t want to come off like a slut.

Idiot .

This was a sex app. No one cared if I was a slut or not. Everyone on it wanted one thing: sex. We weren’t looking for anything long term from it. Just the same, I clicked back into his profile to check what he was looking for. Honestly, the information enclosed was basic enough. He was bi, a top, and not looking for anything more than a no-strings-attached fuck.

He didn’t list anything kinky, not even anything about being a Daddy Dom and definitely nothing about looking for a little to cuddle, and that was probably for the best. There was no reason for me to get my hopes up. Not when I was almost three hours from home, and not about a total stranger… a total stranger with a huge dick, waiting for me to tell him what I wanted.

BeardedBabyBlue

Honestly? I’m good with just about anything. What I really want is to be fucked until I’ll feel it tomorrow.

StickOut

I think that can definitely be arranged. Drinks first?

Who was I to turn down an offer of drinks? Sure, I wanted to be fucked, but that didn’t mean I actually had to be a size whore who only wanted a good dicking.

BeardedBabyBlue

Where should I meet you?

StickOut

Shorty’s on 11th?

Well, I’d been right about where he was located.

BeardedBabyBlue

Be there in 20.

Glancing at my bag, I contemplated what to wear.

BeardedBabyBlue

Red T-shirt.

StickOut

See you then. I’m in a gray shirt, beanie, red beard. I’ll be at the bar.

I stood and stretched my back. A day of sitting through classes and what amounted to lectures was not what my bones were used to. I was a cop—on my way to sergeant in a few months—and used to moving frequently. Hopefully, this would give my body some much-needed exercise.

Remembering StickOut’s picture, I was thankful I’d packed lube and even more thankful I’d told him twenty minutes. There was no way a little prep would be enough to take him without pain, and I wasn’t going to trust a hookup to do the job for me.

There were some things that were better to do on my own. I wriggled my pants down and stepped out of my underwear. A few steps took me to the small bathroom where my lube was in my bag, and I squirted an ample amount onto my fingers before sinking two deep inside me.

I gasped into the tiled bathroom, my free hand groping for the support of the counter. My cock took immediate interest in the fullness my fingers provided and twitched a few times before starting to fill. I was playing a dangerous game with myself. If I didn’t prep well enough, I’d regret it later. If I prepped too well, there would be no getting my pants over my dick without taking care of my erection first.

My teeth bit into my lower lip and I sank a third finger into me. I was rushing and I knew it, but it was a necessary evil, especially if the man I was meeting was anywhere near as big as his picture indicated.

“Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes at myself and scissored my fingers. After a long, needy moan, I shook my head. “There’s no way in hell that picture is real.” I stretched and twisted my fingers again, this time seriously debating if I should finish myself off and call it an early night. Except the possibility that the man was half as gorgeous as his picture made him look had me motivated to at least go to the bar.

I pulled my fingers out and washed my hands, all the while ignoring my erection, willing it to behave for the next ten minutes. “Just go see. No harm in that.” If I got weird vibes when I saw him, I would cut out before he ever saw me. In fifteen minutes or less, I could be sprawled out in my bed with a dildo in my ass and my hand around my cock.

I focused my attention on changing my clothes. The first to go was my Nashville PD polo in exchange for the red T-shirt. For a moment, I debated throwing my utility pants back on, then remembered the pair of jeans I’d put in my duffel on my way out of the house the day before. Slipping on my black boots—the only shoes I’d brought with me—I took a quick look around my room.

It was a bland, nondescript hotel room that said nothing about me. Well, nondescript save for my blanket, a little gray square of fabric with an elephant I’d named Elle attached to the center that I’d been given as a gift. She was sitting on my pillow, inviting me to curl up with her instead of going out for the night.

“Sorry, Elle.” I shoved her under my pillow, then grabbed my wallet. With any luck, there was a sexy set of abs attached to a gorgeous dick waiting for me next door.

Eighteen minutes after sending the message, I pushed the door open to Shorty’s. It wasn’t a gay bar, though I’d noticed a little rainbow sticker on the door as I’d walked in. It wasn’t hard to find StickOut55 since he was exactly where he said he’d be. His photos had only shown his abs, and I had highly doubted they’d actually look like they did in the photos. Even covered in a shirt, I could tell they were absolutely real. The man at the bar looked more amazing than I’d ever imagined.

Swallowing thickly, I contemplated texting Logan and telling him to give me a pep talk.

Then a woman slid up next to him and tried to strike up a conversation, and a possessive beast I didn’t know lived inside me reared its head and told me she was encroaching on my territory. I sauntered over and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned in my direction, his face lit up with a grin and he looked back to the woman on the other side.

“Sorry. I was meeting someone here.” There was a subtle accent to his speech, but in the noisy bar I couldn’t make out where it was from.

The woman glanced over to where my hand rested on his shoulder, her eyes widening for a brief second before she turned and left, leaving a waft of beer and perfume in her wake.

He turned back to me and gave me a blinding smile. “BeardedBabyBlue?” At my nod, he gestured toward the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

“Ah, good choice.” He waved the bartender down and ordered a whiskey sour for himself and a whiskey for me. As he spoke to the bartender, I finally picked out the French accent. What he was doing in Tennessee was a mystery to me, but all that really mattered was that he was here and had answered my message.

Sliding the drink my way, he stood and for the first time, I was able to take all of him in. He was taller than me by an inch or so and every bit as muscular. His profile said he was a handful of years older than me and I had no reason to doubt it. He didn’t look older than me by much if any, but most men didn’t lie about being older, so thirty-seven was probably a safe bet.

And whatever he did to stay fit was clearly working for him. He was tall and despite his muscles being noticeable, they weren’t bulky like he lived in a gym. The gray shirt hugging his biceps and stomach looked like it’d been painted on him, and his jeans weren’t any looser. I watched in fascination as he tilted his head back and finished the drink in a few long swallows, then set the glass on the bar and slid two twenties under it.

He stood and long, slim legs gave way to a rounded ass. “Dance?” He inclined his head toward the dance floor, an eyebrow quirked in my direction.

Holy hell, the man was breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, and a bedtime snack, all wrapped up in one sexy-as-fuck red-haired package. I tipped my drink back and swallowed the shot of whiskey, barely registering the burn in my throat. The only thing my brain could focus on was the man’s ass and not letting him get out of my sight. I thought I set my glass beside his before giving chase, but when I met him on the dance floor, I couldn’t swear where I’d put it.

He placed a finger under my chin and guided me toward him until our lips met. If I’d had any reservations about kissing a man in the middle of a Knoxville bar, they were forgotten as we kissed. He slid one hand around my head and the other groped my ass through my pants.

“Fuck.” I thought I was the one who had said the word as we separated, but my pulse was hammering too hard in my ears for me to be certain.

“Like that?” So close, his French accent sounded thicker, or maybe it was how his voice had dropped low as he’d whispered the words in my ear.

My head bobbed like it was on a spring. “More. Please.” All thoughts from earlier of being easy but not that easy had been erased by the kiss.

A throaty chuckle escaped the man holding me, and he leaned forward to suck on my lower lip. He nibbled at it, his teeth sending a delicious tingle down my spine, and my cock began to fill. “So desperate.” Through my jeans, he tapped over my asshole with his finger. “Do you want my cock in here? It’s going to stretch you so good.”

I absolutely whimpered at his sexy whisper. “Yes.” I leaned forward and ground my dick against his hip to let him know just how much I wanted what he was offering.

He met my movement with one of his own and our erections made contact through our pants, making me more convinced than ever that his picture had absolutely been real. I was thankful I’d taken the time to prep myself before coming to the bar, less worried about him not being willing to prep me properly and more concerned with my own ability to be patient enough for it. I wanted to feel his cock buried in my ass, stretching me completely and making me forget everything else existed.

Somehow we stayed on the dance floor for the next handful of songs. The room was dark, the music loud, and the floor crowded, yet we were alone as we groped, kissed, and ground on one another. It was already the best first date I’d ever had and it wasn’t even a date—we were just two men looking for sex.

His beard brushed against my ear. “Should we get out of here, sexy?” His voice sent shivers across my skin.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He gripped my hand and led me to the front of the bar and out into the oppressive summer heat wave, then pinned me against the wall without a care in the world to where we were. Between kisses, he pulled back long enough to figure out where we were going. “I’m about three miles from here.”

I threw my finger over my shoulder. “I’m about three floors from here.”

“Your place, then?”

I tried to say yes, but his lips caught any sound that came from me, so I settled on a nod. At the next break in our kissing, I turned to my side, grabbed his hand, and walked us toward the hotel next to Shorty’s, thanking every god I’d ever heard of that the lobby and elevator bank were deserted. When the elevator opened, he crowded my space and I barely had the button to the third floor pressed before his lips were on me once again.

We kissed like our lives depended on it through the short ride, then down the hall to my room. I hoped like hell I had the right card in my hand when I pressed it against the door’s security pad and waited for the click of the lock. When it sounded, I sighed in relief and we nearly tumbled into the room when I turned the doorknob.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

His accent was going to be my undoing. My knees had a mind of their own and tried to buckle under my weight when he spoke to me. It was hot and sexy and, holy hell, he was taking off his shirt. Once again, his Grindr photos hadn’t done him justice. I’d have pinched myself if I couldn’t feel everywhere he’d nipped, sucked, bit, and licked me.

Following his lead, I tugged my own shirt over my head and tossed it toward my bag and then we worked together to remove our pants. Silently, I cursed the tight jeans I’d worked up my legs before leaving my room. The tactical pants I usually wore would have been so much easier for me to get off—and I would’ve looked a lot more graceful doing it.

With us both down to our underwear, I looked at him again and nearly gasped. He’d lost the beanie and thick red hair covered his head. It was mussed from the cap but was still sexy as fuck. I maybe would have said as much, but he sank to his knees in front of me and I forgot how to form words. On his way down, he hooked the waistband of my underwear with his fingers and removed it in one fluid motion. With his mouth even with my dick, he wasted no time wrapping his lips around it and sucking me in until he gagged.

I almost fell backward, my brain struggling to remember how to stand and breathe. Giving up on balance, I leaned forward and rested my hands on his soft hair and fuck if he didn’t hum at the contact. The vibration sent me terrifyingly close to coming. Had he not distracted me by reaching around to slide a finger between my ass cheeks, I honestly might have come embarrassingly fast. When his finger slid in easily thanks to the remaining lube and earlier prep, he lost his rhythm on my cock and his eyes flicked up to meet mine.

With a shrug and smirk, I was able to pull a complete sentence together. “I didn’t want to waste time.”

He chuckled while releasing my dick and stood way too gracefully for a man of his size and build, shed his underwear, then motioned toward the bed. “Then by all means, let’s not disappoint you.”

I passed over the condom I’d set on the side table before leaving, then scrambled onto the bed, ass up. As he ripped the condom open, I worked to squeeze more lube on my fingers before pushing them into my ass. His dick was every bit as big as his picture had led me to believe, and I knew my earlier prep was going to need a bit of a refresher. I’d done a good enough job before, so I didn’t hesitate to start with three fingers.

While it was my fingers sliding into my ass, it was the man behind me who hissed as I did so. “Holy shit. That’s fucking gorgeous.” He rubbed at my entrance while I finger-fucked myself open for his dick. Somewhere in the back of my brain, something was telling me this should have been awkward and uncomfortable, even for a hookup. My fingers were buried in my ass in front of this gorgeous man I hadn’t exchanged names with. Somehow, though, it wasn’t awkward. At least if my cock was to be believed.

Given I was hard as granite and leaking precum, I was willing to believe my dick. And the sounds behind me told me StickOut liked it too.

Esme

Fuck.

He was riding his fingers like they were a cock and my dick was getting impatient. I was taking a risk doing this since most of my hookups had been in dark corners where I never saw their face and they never saw mine. Maybe it was because I hadn’t hooked up with anyone since the season ended, maybe it was my overall exhaustion from hiding my sexuality, or maybe it was the genuine interest I’d seen in BeardedBabyBlue’s face, but this time felt different.

So different, in fact, I’d offered to take him back to my hotel. A stupid, impulsive move, and thankfully he’d offered his room. Not only was it not associated with me in any way, but it had only been a few feet from where we were making out on the street.

Also impulsive and stupid.

But I didn’t care. I needed this tonight. I needed him. I needed the release, the connection, the passion I only found when I was with a man. Sex with a woman was great and all, but it was different with a man. The noises, the feel, the sensations. Coarse body hair against my skin, deep grunts and groans, and a body mass I could safely push against. I never got those things with women.

Impulsivity had brought me to this hotel room, standing there with my cock sheathed as I watched the best porn of my life. Except it wasn’t porn, it was mine, just for me, and I didn’t know if I could wait much longer. A glance at my aching cock, though, reminded me I should wait until he was ready. I knew I wasn’t easy to take. My length and girth had actually ended a few of my hookups prematurely. I knew I wasn’t the biggest—decades spent in hockey locker rooms and countless gym conversations told me I was above average but not a freak of nature. I simply needed partners who liked a little stretch and burn, and maybe had a bit more patience than many Grindr hookups had.

I continued to rub my thumb around the entrance of his ass, occasionally slipping it ever so slightly in. Each time, the man in front of me moaned and pushed back. After repeating the action a few times, I wasn’t sure I could take the teasing anymore, and I pushed more of my digit inside his body. In return, he gasped loudly and his fingers left his ass.

“Enough prep. I’m good. Please. Fuck me.”

“You still want to feel it tomorrow?” I asked, remembering his message from earlier. It had been the text that had made me stop talking to the other men who had messaged me before him. He hadn’t minced words, hadn’t tried for anything more than a fuck, hadn’t asked for a name or any other detail. All he wanted was my dick in his ass.

And that I could accommodate.

His head bobbed up and down and he looked at me over his shoulder. “Make me forget my name. Make sure I feel this tomorrow.”

A grin spread across my face and I directed my dick to his hole. It was stretched and pulsing from the loss of his fingers. I would fuck him as hard as he wanted, but I wasn’t going to hurt him. I pressed forward slowly, letting him adjust to my cock. I could have gone slower, but he had other things in mind as he pressed back against me.

“Hard and fast.”

I gripped his hips with my hands, digging my fingertips into his skin and steadying us both, then pulled out and slammed back into him. The man on his knees buried his face in the bedding to muffle his scream. I would have worried I’d hurt him, but he was fighting to move his hips too much to be in pain. It had been a scream of pleasure, and I wanted to make him do it again.

A crazy thought slipped through my mind as I pounded into him again and again. I wanted more than once with him. Crazy, irrational, and totally, absolutely, undoubtedly out of the question. I fucked him harder, trying to rid my mind of the thought. My fingers dug more deeply into his hips with each thrust until I knew I’d left bruises on his skin.

“F-fu-fuck. C-cl-close. Need. Need to. Need to come. P-please.”

Was he asking for my permission? It was absolutely the hottest thing anyone had ever said to me. I looked down at his sweat-slicked skin and the vibrant phoenix tattoo on his back. Why did I want to ask him about it?

Again, too intimate. Too private. Too much like a date.

“Wrap your hand around your dick. Come on my cock.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was deep, commanding, and roughened in a way I’d never heard before. Then again, my heart was pounding fast enough my watch was vibrating a warning on my wrist, and I was all but positive I’d never been so turned on in all my life.

He adjusted himself and I heard the familiar sound of a lube-slicked cock being pumped furiously. It was followed almost immediately by his grunts and pants and my balls began to tighten and tingle with my impending orgasm.

“That’s it, sexy. Work that cock for me. Make yourself come. Fuck yourself on my dick. I want to feel it. Feel how good I make you feel.”

His entire body tensed and his ass pulsed around my dick. My own orgasm was barreling down on me, and I had no control over it. Then he gasped and I knew it was time for me to come. “Fuck! Coming!” His call was needless yet oh-so-sexy as his ass milked my orgasm out of me. I slammed into him twice more before I could no longer move and stilled, buried deep in his ass as I filled the condom inside him.

A sated hum came from the man on his hands and knees, and when he finally twisted his head to look at me, he looked somewhere between drunk and exhausted and let out a slurred sentence I barely understood. “Perfect. Exactly what I needed.”

I chuckled and began to pull out before I softened and lost the condom inside him. I leaned down and kissed his sweat-dampened shoulder when he grunted.

Impulsive was going to become my middle name at the rate I was going. I needed to leave quickly or I risked the unthinkable: staying for round two. There were no round twos, not with me, not with other men. Hell, rarely with a woman.

I tied the condom off and went to the bathroom to throw it away and clean myself off. As I waited for the water to warm in the sink, I glanced over to find him flat on his stomach in the pool of cum he’d left on the blanket and winced. The least I could do would be to take a towel over to him to clean the blanket up. It was too bad there wasn’t a second bed in this room.

And if I was going to take a towel over to him, I might as well take a washcloth too. There was nothing worse than cleaning up cum with a scratchy towel. My nose wrinkled involuntarily and I reached for the extra washcloth.

“Roll over. Let me clean you up.”

I wasn’t sure he was fully awake when he rolled over. It wasn’t until I’d cleaned the cum off the blanket as best I could and started wiping down his stomach that he finally opened his eyes. He had the most adorable just fucked look on his face and he yawned before he spoke. “Was getting up to do that.”

I grinned. It shouldn’t have been endearing, but from how tired he was, there was no way he was about to get up. He would have slept on top of the cum and dried to it by morning. The thought of his belly hair and the huge mess I’d wiped up had me itchy and uncomfortable. “I saved you the hassle.”

And why am I whispering like I don ’ t want to disturb him?

“Thanks.” He yawned again and lifted for me to clean some of the lube from his ass. He would still need a shower in the morning, but at least I thought he’d sleep better now.

Esme Impulsive St. Claire did not have the same ring to it as Esme Alexandre St. Claire, and I highly doubted the Bulldogs would like the sudden name change any more than they’d like to find out their team captain had lost his mind over a man in Knoxville, Tennessee. No way would that go over well.

I turned to take the towels back to the bathroom and pointedly ignored him while I got dressed.

“You can stay,” he said suddenly as I was pulling my beanie on. “I mean, if you want. I’m not going to push you to fuck and run, but I’m also not going to push you to stay.”

He was so damn sweet, and I actually wanted to take him up on the offer. “Early flight home.” Unfortunately. I had no idea what had happened to my brain in the last two hours, but since I’d seen him walk into the bar, every single one of my walls and defenses had been breached.

“Bummer.” He yawned and I bent to put on my shoes. When I stood up again, a little bit of gray fabric had been pulled into his fist and was sticking out of the blanket while he slept peacefully. I stared at him for longer than would be considered normal before I finally accepted it was a blanket. Instead of wanting to laugh at the absurdity, my lips turned up in a smile. I had no idea why, but the soft blanket looked like the exact thing he needed.

My heart ached as I closed the hotel room door. I tipped my head down, ensuring any cameras couldn’t get a look at my face, and headed to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was short and far less exciting than the ride up had been. There was a scuff on the tiled floor, which wasn’t unusual but I wondered if we’d left it during our trip up.

Yup, I’d officially lost my mind.

Or maybe, more logically, I was tired of putting on a charade. Why was it okay for my former teammates to come out as gay but not me? I could name numerous current players who had come out in the last decade and had thriving careers. Oddly, all in Nashville. Not that it was a bad thing or even a bad team; Nashville had been a serious contender for the Stanley Cup last season. They were going to get there, probably sooner rather than later. But I was bitter. Three hours from me, there was a team with a statistically improbable number of gay men who had been welcomed into professional hockey with open arms.

Coach Anders had sneered and snarled when former Bulldog Braxton Cernak had come out as gay and said he was dating the team captain of the Nashville Grizzlies. He’d been no better when Easton Lafferty, who had been openly gay while playing for us in Boston, had retired and taken a position as assistant coach of the Nashville Parliament, the Grizzlies minor league farm team. And when it came out that Easton was dating the owner of the Parliament, Anders had been downright insufferable for almost a week.

Why his former players’ sex lives bothered him so much, I’d never understood. What I understood clearly was I wouldn’t be able to come out, not while playing for him. And since I was a franchise lifer, it meant I wouldn’t be coming out until I retired. And I still had another three years on my contract.

Glancing back up at the third floor, I climbed into my rideshare and headed back to my own hotel while all I wanted to do was go back, knock on door 318, and crawl into bed behind the man I’d left sleeping there five minutes earlier.