Page 61 of Pucking Amazing

A moment later, he kicks out the rebound of a point shot, staying big and square to the shooter. The puck deflects into the corner and we clear it out to relieve the pressure.

I feel a surge of pride watching my boy in his element, anticipating each play before it develops. Dude’s in straight beast mode.

Not gonna lie, it puts some decidedly un-teammate-like thoughts in my head about what else those lightning reflexes might be good for...but I shut that down real quick.

Eyes on the prize, DJ. Plenty of time for scoring off the ice after we put this game away.

The clock ticks down, each second an eternity. Sweat drips into my eyes as I dart across the ice, my knee screaming in protest. But I can’t stop now. Not when we’re this close.

“Come on DJ, you got this!” Tyler yells from the goal, his voice cutting through the din of the arena.

I catch his eye and nod, a silent promise. Then I’m off, intercepting a sloppy pass from the Vortex’s defenseman. The puck settles onto my stick like it was drawn by a magnet.

The eyes of the crowd are on me as I weave through the opposing players, their shouts fading into white noise.

One defenseman left to beat.

My knee twinges again, sharp and insistent.

Gritting my teeth, I push through the pain, juking left before cutting hard to the right. The defenseman bites on the fake, his momentum carrying him out of the play.

It’s just me and the goalie now. I can see the whites of his eyes, wide with anticipation.

Time seems to slow as I wind up for the shot, the puck rocketing off my stick. It sails through the air, a black blur against the stark white of the ice.

The red goal light flashes. The horn sounds. Pandemonium erupts.

“FUCK YEAH!” Jason bellows, throwing his arms around me as the rest of the team piles on. We’re a tangle of limbs and laughter, adrenaline and elation coursing through our veins.

In that moment, nothing else matters. Not my aching knee, not the grueling schedule ahead. All that exists is the pure, unbridled joy of victory.

Amid the team huddle Tyler finds me, his hand lingering on my back a beat too long, and a different kind of heat blooms in my chest. Our eyes meet in the chaos, a charged look passing between us.

I lick my lips, tasting salt and anticipation.

Yeah, I know just how I want to celebrate this win.

After changing out of my skates, I realize that Tyler’s nowhere to be seen in the raucous locker room. A man on a mission, I slip out discreetly and begin methodically checking all the spots he likes to frequent. And in the equipment room, there he is.

Alone, stripping off his pads. Our eyes lock and the air sizzles between us.

I don’t hesitate. In two strides I’m on him, my hands grasping his face, my lips crashing into his. He groans into my mouth, kissing me back fiercely.

God, the taste of him. The heat. It makes my head swim.

We stumble backwards, a tangle of desperate limbs and roaming hands. I nip at his lower lip and he shudders. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me closer. He’s rock hard through his compression shorts.

Ty suddenly flips us around and shoves me against the wall. His eyes are molten with lust as he yanks my pants down.

Holy shit. Is he really going to...?

“I’ve never done this before,” he rasps out. “But I want to. I want you on my tongue, DJ.”

Then he’s on his knees, mouthing me through my briefs. I let out a shaky exhale, my head thudding back against the wall.

Tyler Simmonds is about to suck my cock. The hottest goddamn goalie I’ve ever seen is on his knees for me.

He tugs my briefs down and I spring free. Ty looks up at me from under his lashes as he takes me in hand. The visual alone nearly does me in.

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