Page 121 of Breakneck Hockey

“Does that mean I can fuck you bare?”

Something savage and Goddamn feral darkens his eyes. Is being able to smell pheromones a thing? Because there’s a scent coming off him that I can only describe as man.

“Yeah, yeah, you can.”

“Fuck, Alderchuck. The only thing stopping me from bending you over the hood of my car is what Ma’ll do to me if we’re late.”

“Then let’s fucking get there, so we can go, eh?”

“On it.” He starts the car and revs the engine, but the beastly countenance never leaves his body.

He might kill me with his dick later, but I can’t think of a better way to go.

Dinner’s awesome. Marie feeds me five servings of her carbonara with homemade pasta noodles. She tells me I’mthe first one to clean out one of her pots. I take it as a major accomplishment. She surprises me with a to-go container.

“I was warned about your stomach. I made a second pot.” She winked and made Sutter promise to bring me back. I put the gifts I brought them under the tree when no one was looking.

As we’re pulling out of their drive, crisp snowflakes waft from the skies. “Shit. Fucking snow,” he says.

It snows about four times a year in Vancouver, if that. And naturally, Vancouver’s never prepared for it.

“Guess this means you’re staying the night,” he says.

“Or you take me home.”

“No fucking chance, Alderchuck. If you need to, consider this an abduction. You’re mine tonight. I’ll be fucking you into a coma, and I’ll continue to fuck you while you’re in that coma.”

I had no intentions of going home, I just wanted to hear him say that.

His phone lights up the car on the dash’s screen, a block away from his building.

Charles.Is that the same Charles he claimed was a fifteen-year-old boy he’s helping? Guess I’m about to find out.

“Fuck me,” Sutter says, answering the call hands-free.

“Mitch? Fuck, Mitch. Are you in town?”

“Yeah, kid. What’s up? Where’s Lane?”

This Charles is definitely a teenage boy, from the sound of his pubescent voice.

“I-I fucked up. I’m sorry. Lane’s truck is too busted up to drive in the snow. You need to get here.”

“What makes you think I can if Lane can’t? He’s closer.”

“I don’t know. You’re a fucking prepper. Don’t you kinda guys have ways of getting around in end-of-times scenarios?”

He sighs. “Yeah, we do. I’ll be there as soon as I can, kid.” Sutter hangs up.

I don’t know whether to be pissed, impressed, or plain disappointed. Whatever’s going on has kyboshed our night big time. Usually, I don’t get involved in Sutter’s business. Our new exclusive fucking policy is hardly enough of a declaration to entitle me to some of his life, but he’d better give me something.

He doesn’t, of course. He’s silent, driving up to his building’s drop-off area. He pulls over.

“I have to grab the keys to my truck and my storage unit. Wait here.”

“Why do I gotta wait in the car?” I’m pissed and I don’t really know why. I have obligations, too, and I’m certainly not one of Sutter’s.

“Because if you step a foot inside my condo, my dick’s going in your ass, kitten. I can’t let that happen right now.”

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