Page 58 of Zero Pucks

“He’s…” Tucker went quiet. “Actually, is it okay that we don’t talk about him? He wasn’t a total monster, but we didn’t end on the best terms, and I really don’t want to think about him when I’m with you.”

I mimed zipping my lips, and he sealed it with a kiss.

“Lead the way inside,” he said when he pulled back. “We have too many clothes on, and I’ve been waiting for this since the second I met you.”

I didn’t know if he meant Vegas or here, but it didn’t matter because whatever it was, it was the same for me. It felt like a lifetime, and now I was coming home. And whether or not there was a future for us, I was not going to let any moments he could offer me pass by.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

TUCKER

I was nervous.Not piss my pants nervous, but close. When I’d woken up alone in Vegas, I kind of wanted to pancreas-punch the person who left me in the hotel room without my legs or my memory. When I found out I accidentally got married to a total stranger who was coming to see me, I kind of wanted to run and hide.

And then Amedeo showed up with his dimples and his wild hair, and shit. I was a goner from the moment he opened his mouth and stuttered his first hello. And now, I was about to have him—provided I didn’t fuck this entirely up between now and the time it took to get to his bedroom.

I thought for another second about bringing my hockey bag inside to use my stubbies around the house, but I didn’t. I was going to wait. I wanted to wow Amedeo with my dick skills before he saw me waddling around like a toddler with no knees. He could like me all he wanted, but it wasn’t a turn-on. Anyone who found that sexy had a fetish, and I was not about that life.

The only thing I wanted was to make sure my body didn’t turn him off. I could live with the rest.

“Do you need anything out of—oh.” Amedeo started to talk, but I lost control of myself and bossed him against the wall. Knocking his ass into the plaster with my hips, I rubbed my dick against his as I kissed him with long, lush pulls on his tongue.

“Hi,” I whispered when I pulled back.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, and his gaze was a little foggy. “Mm. Hi.”

I kissed him again for the lust-thick way he said that two-letter word. “Hi.”

“You said that.”

“So I did.”

He put a hand to my chest to stop me before I could kiss him again. “I feel like we’ll be more comfortable in the bedroom.”

He was right, and my post-game ass would not thank me if I gave in to my urge to try and take him here in the foyer. Neither would my hips. I’d attempted to get acrobatic on my prosthetics a handful of times, and it never went well. I’d had a hookup a few years back with the Razors’ goalie. They were only a couple of towns over, so he was easy to see whenever I got in the mood.

He was an incomplete paraplegic with a decent amount of butthole sensitivity, and he loved it when I’d hold him up and rail him. We usually used his trapeze he’d had installed over his bed to get in and out, but one day, I decided to be adventurous and fuck him in the kitchen.

My hips still hadn’t forgiven me for it.

I threw myself out of commission for six weeks, and my team was less than thrilled with me. So, I decided to take Amedeo’s advice, link hands with him, and let him lead us to the bedroom.

When I saw it, I was a little shocked for a second. It was all florals with a very high four-poster bed, which wasn’t him at all. Then I remembered that this wasn’t his place. It was a little rental in a middle-class neighborhood—a stark reminder he was just a guest here.

That no matter what I wanted or how good it was, it wasn’t going to last.

He lived an entire country away from me, and I most definitely did not do well with long distance.

“You okay?” He tugged softly on my hand after I’d come to a complete stop in the middle of the room.

I wasn’t. But I also was. I was with him, and in the moment, that’s all that needed to matter. Curling my fingers around his hips, I tugged him close and bent down to devour him with another needy kiss. He groaned and melted against me.

“You have to tell me what you like,” I said, moving to nip and suck at his neck. He shuddered, so I bit down a little harder. “And what you don’t. I want to make this good for you, Deo. I want you to forget for a little while.”

“Forget what?” he asked, breathless.

“Anything.” Kiss. “Everything.” Another kiss. “I want the world to be just you and me for tonight.”

He moaned softly and turned his face, tugging on my hair to bring me back to his mouth. He kissed me like he wanted it—like my words were important to him. Like I meant something. “I don’t have condoms.”

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