13. Dover
The deadbolt clicks into place, followed by the heavy thud of the security bar dropping into its cradle.
Before I can even draw a clean breath, a heavy hand grips my waist.
Levi’s other hand cups the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair with an urgency that steels what little air I have left. Levi pulls me forward, closing the distance between us, and slams his mouth down onto mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s possessive, fierce, and fueled by a terrifying spike of adrenaline. It tastes like panic and fierce relief. Levi crowds me against the door, his large frame shielding me from the dark room, as if he could physically block out the rest of the world.
I gasp into the kiss, my hands instantly flying up to clutch at the rough material of Levi’s jacket. I hold on like a drowning man. The terror that had frozen my limbs on the asphalt suddenly melts into a desperate, visceral heat.
Levi groans, a low, gravelly sound, pulling me flush against him. His thumb presses hard into the line of my jaw, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, demanding everything I have to give.
When Levi finally breaks the kiss, he doesn't pull away. He rests his forehead against mine, his breath coming in ragged, uneven puffs. His eyes, usually cool and analytical, are dark and wild.
"You're alive," Levi rough-whispers, his grip tightening on my waist. "Jesus Christ, Dover."
Levi didn’t give me time to process the words. He catches my lower lip between his teeth, biting just hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp before devouring my mouth all over again.
I grab ahold of Levi’s shirt, pulling him closer, trying to fill the space between us.
Levi’s hands move with urgency, pressing me back against the door.
My cock is hard as granite, leaking with excitement.
The air in the room feels electric, heavy with the relief of a narrow escape.
I lean into the contact, my breathing ragged, matching Levi’s intensity with a desperate energy of my own.
"I’m not letting you out of my sight," Levi mutters, his voice strained as he anchors me in place.
“Fuck me, Levi.”
Levi pauses, and then a frantic rush of hands and tearing cloth fills the quiet apartment.
Levi leads with practiced, urgent efficiency, stripping out of his jacket and shirt before his hands move to my clothes, tugging the fabric away to rid us of any barriers.
I don't hesitate, kicking off my shoes and shedding the rest of my clothes in a desperate effort to be closer, our skin finally meeting in a flush of heat.
Levi's heavy cock presses against my own, and I see fucking stars.
Levi pushes me back, our bare chests press together as he takes my mouth again.
The kiss is deep, heavy, and driven by a raw need to feel alive.
We move blindly toward the bed, the friction of our bodies and the intense, fast-paced friction between us building rapidly under Levi's commanding touch.
Tangled together on Levi's bed, we grind our cocks together in a desperate need that is going to have me coming all over him in seconds.
Levi reaches between us, grabbing our dicks in one of his hands, and starts pumping them together.
Fuck me! Our foreheads press together as we watch the action between us.
Too much. I grip his shoulders as I come hard, grunting hard.
With a final, breathless surge of adrenaline, we hold onto each other tightly, panting hard into the crook of each other's necks as the overwhelming release finally subsides, leaving us completely spent.
We lay tangled in the sheets for several minutes, the room silent except for the synchronized, ragged sound of our breathing. Gradually, the frantic pounding in my chest begins to slow, the immediate physical relief giving way to the cold reality of what we’ve just done.
Levi is the first to shift. The soft, vulnerable look in his eyes is hardening back into the sharp focus of a security specialist. He sits up, raking a hand through his damp hair, his gaze sweeping the darkened room before landing back on me.
The warmth of the last ten minutes has completely been replaced by his professional calculation. "The car was so close, Dover,” Levi says, his voice gravelly.
Levi gets up from the bed and comes back with a cloth and towel.
He wipes the sticky mess off of both of us before pulling on his pants.
I sit up and pull the edge of the blanket over my lap, the chill of the apartment finally seeping in.
“I have a game tomorrow. I can’t just hide until they’re caught. ”
“I know,” Levi agrees, pulling his phone from his pocket.
The screen casts a sharp blue glow across his face.
“Rosie has the camera footage, but unfortunately the plate doesn’t match the vehicle.
She’s talking to the owners of the plate and finding out what plate is on their car. The trail will stop someplace.”
Feeling more than a little exposed, I slip out of the bed and hurriedly gather my clothes, pulling them on with quick, nervous movements.
I leave my socks and shoes behind for now, not bothering to search for them in the dim light, deciding that I’ll worry about finding them only when it’s time to leave.
As I dress, I become acutely aware of Levi’s gaze following me across the room.
There’s a look of uncertainty on his face, as if he’s unsure of what to say or how to act after what just transpired between us.
Rather than addressing the awkwardness, I choose to steer the conversation in a safer direction.
I clear my throat and ask, “Do you have coffee in this place?” My voice is casual as I make my way toward his kitchen, hoping the simple question will diffuse the tension.
“There’s a machine on the counter. I think it’s similar to the one you have,” Levi calls out from behind me.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” I hear the soft rustling of clothing, but I focus my attention on the kitchen instead, letting the familiar sounds fade into the background.
When I spot the coffee machine sitting on the counter, I realize it’s not just similar to the one Nash and I have in our shared apartment—it’s exactly the same model.
The sight of it brings a small sense of comfort.
A moment later, Levi appears, now dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a plain T-shirt.
He looks far more relaxed than he did a few minutes ago, his posture easy as he leans his arms on the countertop and watches me prepare the coffee.
His expression grows serious as he speaks.
“Gemma’s friend, whose name I refuse to say, was paid to get you in a compromised position in that alley,” he tells me, his voice low and steady.
“He has a weakness for online gambling, and apparently, his debt was cleared in exchange for setting you up like that. He doesn’t know who paid him, though.
” The information settles heavily between us, the implications clear.
I process his words in silence, feeling angry at the thought of being manipulated by someone I barely know.
“Maybe you should check out where McKenzie was this morning,” I suggest, my tone casual as I shrug my shoulders.
Honestly, I don’t actually believe he’s the one responsible, but I can’t help but mention his name.
“I mean, would he really go to such extreme lengths just to get me out of the picture? It seems unlikely, but at the same time, I can’t think of anyone else who might have a motive. Not really.”
Levi immediately seizes on my hesitation, snapping his fingers and pointing directly at me. “That right there!” he exclaims, his voice sharp. “What do you mean by that? Not really.”
I wince at his intensity and hand him the first cup of coffee that’s finished brewing, hoping to diffuse the tension a little.
With a sigh, I admit, “There have been a few times when another player has had an issue with me during a game. But it’s never been anything personal or off the ice—just the usual rough play.
You know, the kind of stuff that happens during a game: someone slamming me into the boards a little harder than necessary, or chirping at me with some trash talk.
That’s just part of hockey culture, which is why I said ‘not really.’ It’s never gone beyond that, so I don’t seriously suspect any of them. ”
Levi settles into a seat at the counter and stays quiet while we drink our coffee before he mutters. “Drago Levenski has a beef with you. He’s tight with McKenzie. What about that other player in Vegas? Igor Lenten.”
“He did cross my mind, but I just don’t see it. He has a new baby by all accounts. I doubt he’d do anything to jeopardize being there for his family.”
“That’s true. The only difference now is that the whole damn hockey world knows you’re gay, so it really could be anyone.”
“Exactly. I’d put my money on a diehard fan who is homophobic.” I wince, hating that word.
“It could also be someone who has had you in the crosshairs for a while and is now using the revelation as an excuse to act.”
Pushing away from the counter, I move into the lounge and kick back on the sofa. “I’m done talking about this because it could be anyone. I mean, we know the guy has a beef with me, but that’s it.”
Levi wants to continue, but by the set of his mouth I can tell he forces himself to keep silent. Instead, he settles into an armchair and closes his eyes.