Page 6 of Goaltender Interference

“Yeah,” Connor said hoarsely. “I do.”

Jesse stepped back and Connor walked into the room, letting the door close behind him. He was on Jesse in an instant, not wanting to let that stupid voice in his head talk him out of this. Again.

He needed to know.

His kiss was met with equal fervor, Jesse’s mouth warm and desperate against his. Connor pressed him against the wall, delving into his mouth like they were picking up where they’d left off earlier.

There was a soft sound when Jesse’s suit coat slithered to the floor. Though the room was dark, Connor’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the light streaming in the windows.

He fumbled for Jesse’s shirt buttons, gulping in air, trying to kiss him and strip him all at once.

“Hey,” Jesse rasped. “What’s the rush?”

He stilled Connor’s awkward movements and pushed him back until his back met the mirrored closet doors with a quiet rattle.He slid warm hands up Connor’s chest, pushing at his suit jacket.

Connor shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor too. They kissed, stripping each other more slowly, tongues dueling as each piece of clothing hit the soft, plush carpet. Connor kicked off his shoes and Jesse did the same before Connor pulled him tightly against his body.

He gasped at the hot press of Jesse’s skin against his.

“Connor,” Jesse said with a gasp.

Part of Connor wanted to quiet him, afraid someone else would hear, but the other part liked the sound of his name on Jesse’s lips too much to stop him.

He gasped at the touch of Jesse’s hand, skimming his waistband, flicking the button open and sliding down the zipper. Each individual rasp of the zipper’s teeth seemed loud in the room but Connor didn’t stop him then either.

Instead, he splayed his hands on Jesse’s back, mapping out the width and the strength of the lean muscles beneath. Jesse shifted, sliding his hands into Connor’s trousers and squeezing over the fabric of his underwear. He got two handfuls of Connor’s ass and hauled him closer.

For the first time, Connor felt the brand of Jesse’s cock against his hip. He shuddered, blood going hot.

Jesse froze. “Okay?” he whispered, sliding his tongue along Connor’s throat before grazing his teeth across the spot and biting down.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Connor encouraged him, because he didn’t know how to say that helovedit. All of it. Touching Jesse felt perfect,like something Connor had only dreamed about but had always known he wanted. Or maybe he hadn’t always known it, but hehadwanted it. Somewhere down, hidden, under the layers of hockey and masculinity and growing up Catholic.

It was the shivery hot feeling of doing something he knew he wasn’tsupposedto want but couldn’t stop. The sugary taste of candy during Lent, when he’d promised to give it up.

So he pressed harder against Jesse, reaching down and gripping Jesse’s ass, firm under his palms, even through the layers of fabric.

“C’mon,” he coaxed and he was barely sure what he evenmeantbut Jesse seemed to.

With a quick bounce, he hopped up, wrapping his legs around Connor’s hips. He was heavier than Connor anticipated and he staggered back, thankfully hitting the wall instead of the flimsier closet door this time.

He got his hands under Jesse’s thighs in a tight grip as Jesse wound his arms around Connor’s neck and kissed him again.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Jesse rasped.

Connor carried him toward the bed, heart racing with anticipation. It took real effort to carry Jesse because he was only an inch or two shorter than Connor and deceptively muscular, but Connor managed a breathless laugh because itwashot and he was hard too. He tumbled them both onto the bed, catching himself before he put his whole weight into Jesse’s body.

But Jesse pulled him close, legs still around Connor’s hips, but lower now, tucking Connor into the cradle of his body. Connorgroaned when their hard cocks met for the first time. Even though they were still half-dressed, it was overwhelming, and he buried his face against Jesse’s throat.

He smelled dizzyingly good again, salty sweaty man layered on top of the rich scent of his cologne.

“Christ,” Connor managed, overwhelmed.

Jesse threaded his hands through Connor’s hair and rocked his hips. And then they weremoving, pleasure racing up Connor’s spine, sparking through him like lightning.

However unfamiliar the partner, Connor knew this dance, knew to run his hand along Jesse’s thigh and tug at the clothing that was in the way. He had to unwrap Jesse’s legs from around his waist but that was good too because Connor could watch him spread his long legs in a vee, wide apart like he was about to do the splits.

Connor suddenly remembered every single damn goalie exercise he’d ever seen and groaned, pressing his hot cheek against Jesse’s leg, the tickle of hair against his skin new and unfamiliar. “Fucking hell.”

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