Page 110 of Breakneck Hockey

Deaths are never good. Some are more horrific than others. Nobody wants to relive that shit.

“Sutter, if it’s something you need to tell me, I’m here for you, man. But do you know what I’d rather know?”

“What?”

“How he lived. Tell me about that. Did he take you for rides on this bike? What was his favorite color? Did he like poutine?”

His lungs heave a relieved exhale, and the tension visibly drains from him as his breathing evens out. He laughs. “You’re good at that, making big things not so big. I dunno how you do it. Yeah, I think I can tell you about him. I miss him so bad.”

Sutter’s arms get tighter.

“We never got to go on a real ride, Mom thought I was too small, so he’d take me around the block and stuff.”

“That’s rad, Sutter. It must have been fucking cool to have a dad like that. I don’t even know who mine is—hence all my daddy issues,” I say with a wink, so he knows it’s lighthearted. When I was a kid, not having a dad was a bummer but, with Mom and Auntie Annie, I didn’t feel like I was missing out too much. We made jokes about it. That’s how Alderchucks do it.

It pulls another one of those smiles out of him. One just for me. “I’m totally making you call me Daddy one of the times I fuck you, Alderchuck.”

I groan. “My fault. I handed that one to you.” When humiliation kink is your kink, everything can be your kink because it just has to embarrass the fuck out of you—that’ll do it.

His lips crush mine. His bear-paw hands claw at my jacket and it gets tossed over the bike.

“Get on the bike. I want a picture.”

Sutter and his fucking album of me for his spank bank. I can’t help but humor him, though. I climb onto the bike as if I’ve done it loads of times but pose like I’m Troye Sivan. He snaps way too many photos of me.

“Okay, off.”

I swing my leg over. “Get what you needed Sutt?—”

Oof!I’m pushed face forward into a wooden wall. My brain’s catching up, but my dick’s already on board, at attention, ready to do what Sutter tells us to do. My pants and boxers are peeled down enough to expose my ass. The cold stings, but not for long. He smacks the bare skin, lighting a blossom of delicious pain over my right ass cheek, and igniting hot arousal. My cock throbs.

He trails wet kisses down my body, pushing my shirt up enough to access my torso. Feverish bites sink into my skin, marking me to fuck. He pries my ass cheeks apart and his tongue slips inside. Fuck, Sutter’s on his knees behind me, making out with my ass—he’s obsessed with eating my ass. I stick my ass out more to give him better access, my fist slams against the wall repeatedly.

“Fuck, that’s so good. Don’t fucking stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

The image of him on his knees for me back there does things to me. His leather jacket creaks—he hasn’t even taken it off—and it’s easy to picture the way his hair falls over his face, trapped partially by his bandana. His hands are sure and powerful, nails digging into my cheeks. There’s squelching when he sucks. A long finger slips inside to find my prostate—bingoooaaaahhh—and I wanna hump the damn wall.

All the places he bit me throb in time with my dick. Fuck, it buzzes with tingles, the skin so tight it might burst.

“Cum, baby. I want you to cum all over the ground,” he murmurs.

There it is again, the baby. I wasn’t sure if he was fucking with me the first time. The second time, he was being Sutter about it and so I knew for sure that he wasn’t fucking with me the first time. Did that knowledge bring clarity? No.

But now I know how much the man wants me, he’s here showing me his dad’s bike for Christ’s sake. Baby sinks into my beating heart.

Whatever’s holding him back from rushing things, I’m glad. I don’t want a man who isn’t sure about us. I don’t want him to have any doubt, not even a grain of rice-sized. I’m a lot to take. A man’s gotta have—oh God—Rhett levels of commitment to be with me.

I let go. The world disappears for a moment, but not his tongue. It’s just me, my ass, and Sutter’s tongue in some kinda parallel universe. Holy fuck. Is this what they mean when they say “out of body” experience? I think I’m having that right now. My dick explodes onto the dirt floor. My knees buckle.

Sutter’s there to catch me and suck another hickey into my neck.

“What was that for?” I’m still breathless.

“Casey … I think I’m … I think I?—”

One of the double-wood doors swings open. “Mitchell, are you in here … oh.”

An attractive man with dark hair, dressed in khakis and a sharp button down, freezes at the entry.

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