Page 36 of Home Ice Advantage

“You’re a terrible fucking liar,” Eric said, unable to hide the laugh in the words, using his free hand to grab Sully’s wrist and pin it back against the couch.

Sully held himself still, almost ostentatiously so, like he was making a point of it. Even with the renewed effort, he was trembling, with excitement or nerves, Eric couldn’t tell. For a second, the doubt: was he moving too fast, assuming too much? It was pretty clear that Sully had never fucked around with a man before, however queer he might’ve been. It was pretty clear that he was enjoying it, but it was still... Well. Sully was a big boy. If he wanted Eric to stop, he could say it.

Instead of worrying further, Eric lost himself in the push and pull. The teasing, the promise of more pulled away just when Sully started to getintoit. Eric could feel the pulse in Sully’s wrist, hammering under his grip. Eric could feel Sully gasping into his mouth, trying to angle his head for a more bruising kiss. Eric could feel every inch of him, hard and straining upward, more and more frustrated the longer Eric let things go without slipping a hand down his pants, withoutreallydoing more than holding him down so he couldn’t pursue the touch he clearly wanted desperately.

Eventually, Sully broke, his voice a raspy growl. “This is—god, you’re such an asshole.”

“You wanted me to be mean,” Eric said, a little singsong.

“Yeah, I didn’t meantortureme, I—”

“Jesus, you even talk too much in bed? I should have fucking guessed.”

“This is thecouch.”

Eric pulled back, looked down at Sully, measuring. He took the pressure off of his throat. “Do you want to move it to the bed?”

Sully blinked. His whiskey-brown eyes were a little hazy, distracted. He looked stupid as hell and Eric had the brief animal satisfaction of knowing he’d done that. “Considering the way my knees felt at practice after the last time, yeah. Move it to the bed.”

Eric’s own knees creaked a little when he shifted out of Sully’s lap and moved himself off of the couch. When he looked down at Sully, he had his eyes closed for a second, like he was trying to gather his wits before he stood. He followed Eric into the bedroom without any further smart-ass remarks, though, and Eric was briefly glad he’d thought to clean up.

Sully sat right down on Eric’s bed like he owned it, looked up at him with the kind of challenge in his eye he always had at practice if they were demonstrating a drill and Sully especially wanted to put him in his place. “Get naked,” he said, and pointed one finger at Eric’s pants, which, admittedly, were not doing a whole lot to hide how into this he was, either.

“Oh, you’re giving the orders now?” Eric asked, amused. “Pretty bossy, Sully. ‘Be mean to me.’ ‘Move it to the bed.’ ‘Get naked.’ I’m getting some mixed signals, I think.”

Sully said, “Oh mygod, you’re insufferable,” and in one quick movement, yanked his sweater and undershirt up over his head, and just as quickly, pulled his pants and underwear down and kicked them off.

Eric had seen him naked before, in the showers at the rink. But it was different there: you couldn’t look too long or too hard, and Eric had spent years of his playing career being normal about it in the locker rooms.

Today, he had the ability to look at Sully all he wanted to, the compact body formed and shaped especially for the sport: the barrel torso and the layer of fat over a core that Eric knew felt hard as a rock underneath, the absurdly muscular legs that seemed almost too big for the rest of his body. His broad shoulders and thick neck.

And his face, handsome and charming andstupid, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, the twitching smile that always seemed to tug the corner of his lips up, the strong jaw and stubborn chin. The warm brown eyes with short, lush eyelashes that were currently staring back up at Eric, focused only on him.

His dick—thick and hard, already leaking, gripped in one calloused hand.

“Are you just going to stare at me,” Sully said, for the first time sounding a little uncertain, “or are we going to get this show on the road?”

“What’d I say about being patient?” Eric asked, and Sully groaned and said,“Still?”

Still clothed, Eric got down on the bed, took one hand to Sully’s chest and pushed him down. “You wanted me to be mean,” he reminded him.

“I thought you were going to—I don’t know, talk to me the way you do in practice, or push me around, I didn’t think you were going to—” He was twisting again under Eric’s body, one leg hooked over Eric’s to keep him from escaping. “I really didn’t think...”

Eric shook his head. “Again, I wanna know what kind of sex you were having.” He stopped, when something in Sully’s eyes shuttered, started closing down. That wasn’t what he wanted. It was only fun if both of them were into it. “Okay, fine. You said you didn’t want to think? Don’t think.”

It turned out that Sully liked it when Eric held his wrists down, when he had to try to push back against his full body weight to arch himself up into a kiss. And he could, for a time, lift Eric up. It wasn’t quite the same as the bench press, with the force pushing back down and the particular angle, but he had that smug little smile when he did it that made Eric want tohumiliatehim.

It wasn’t hard. All he had to do was shift one hand down to take Sully’s dick in his hand, and he surrendered almost immediately, his body twisting pinioned between the two points of contact.

It was intense, how badly Sully wanted it, how roughly Eric could touch him and he’d still be panting for it. It wasn’t quite a wrestling match. Eric’s bed wasn’t big enough for that, and neither of them were fully young enough for it, but Sully managed to turn the tables, climbing on top of him, a heavy weight seated on his hips as he bullied Eric back against the headboard.

“Take off yourclothes,” Sully demanded, grinding against him, and Eric couldn’t help laughing.

“I really think,” he managed, “you gotta make up your mind what you want out of this.”

Sully, his hands tugging at Eric’s shirt, looked him straight in the eye and said, “I think I made that pretty clear. I wantyou. I want everything.”

Eric, mouth dry, did not askare you sure, because it was pretty fucking clear that Sully was. Maybe they’d been heading toward this the whole time anyway. Maybe it had been inevitable, the first time he’d leaned down angrily, attacked Sully’s mouth with his own because he hadn’t known anything else to say to express his frustration. It was funny, now, that he almost couldn’t remember why he’d been so furious, not when he had Sully in his bed, annoying and persistent and trying to pull Eric’s pants off without actually letting him up to move.

---