Page 76 of My Pucking Crush

Breathing steadily, I close it and follow him.

Duncan is posted in the lobby of his building, doing an extra security sweep given tonight’s events and how Richmond was tied to Max’s initial attack. I nod my appreciation and he makes a slicing motion with his fingers across his neck.

Yeah, I’m screwed.

Max doesn’t waste time. He hits the liquor cabinet and starts slamming back tumblers of scotch. I watch him with deep sympathy. Considering all I went through, I can recognize a man who must feel like a bear ripped his throat out. This game is his life. He has nothing else.

But he has me.

By the third glass, I try to wrestle the bottle from him. His snarl triggers me, making me remember my drunk father beating me with a belt. I push it away.

“Come on. That’s enough. You’re banned from the ice. Not the stadium, the guys still need you. You need to show up.” I push our faces together, and to my surprise, Max kisses me.

It’s a wild kiss. My soul shatters from it. I drop the glass, he drops the bottle, and everything crashes around us.

That also kills the mood.

Max grabs me. “What are you doing to me?”

“Clearly, I’m bringing out who you really are.” I kiss his neck, the smell of fresh soap from his postgame shower hardening my cock.

“I don’t want that life.” He wants to stay in denial.

He’s a man who’s chosen to be in the closet for a reason. Max is an unmoored boat thrown against the waves in every different direction. He doesn’t know whohe is. He doesn’t know what he wants.

That kiss tells me he at least wants to fuck me.

Do I let him? Even if it’s punishing me for showing him a side of himself that he’d rather hide?

“Touch me,” Max says, and kisses me.

Stunned, I reach for his belt.

“Mmmm. No. Over my pants. I can’t do more. Not now.”

Breathing heavily, I lay my palm against the hardness throbbing behind his zipper.

“Christ,” Max mutters, his head thrown back. “Yeah. Keep going.”

I stroke him over the silk trousers, trying to grip the thick girth. Getting my hand around it, I squeeze.

Max growls and grips my shoulders as his cock pulses. Seconds later, I feel dampness in his pants.

He staggers back. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Without any acknowledgement, he storms past me, and the only sound to break against the blood roaring in my ears is his bedroom door slamming shut.

AFTER AN HOUR, I HAVEmy composure back and call Bronwin.

“Jesus, is Ryan okay?” My boss thinks I’d just casually call him if something happened.

“Yeah,” I answer. “Something’s come up, and I have to go to Manhattan.”

“Can’t your club wait?” he says with an edgy tone.

My eyes slip closed. “It’s not forthat. I need to meet with someone.”

Bronwin sighs. “Check in with me when you get back and confirm our team captain is well.”

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