Page 37 of Icing the Play

“Coach ran the shit out of us today. I deserve some carbs.” I chuckled and drank my champagne.

“Sure. I don’t see you getting out of shape anytime soon.” He wagged his brows at me.

“Was that a compliment?” I eyed him. Obviously, he liked my physique, but he’d never mentioned it before.

“It was.” His eyes grew dark. “You have just the body type that gets me hot.” He bit his lower lip and released it.

“Yeah?” I lifted the edge of my mouth. “You’ve got such a sexy body, Myles.” My cock stirred, and I squirmed. “I love your thighs and your ass…” I whistled. “Damn.”

He gave me a sideways look. “So, top or?”

“Vers.” I sipped my champagne. “But I’ve only bottomed once.” Please let him be a bottom or vers too. At some point, I had to bury myself in that fine ass of his.

With a coy grin, he said, “Once, huh? I also consider myself vers.”

I nodded, my cock swelling behind my zipper. “We’re going to have the best time in bed.”

“We are.” He glanced at the waiter as he stopped at the table and dropped off our food. Leaning over his salmon, Myles said, “But I want to take things slowly.” He tensed his brows. “We live together, eh?”

“And if we started fucking tonight, we might not stop? Is that what you’re saying?” With a snicker, I twisted my fork in my pasta. “The convenience factor is pretty high.”

Shaking his head, he laughed. “Damn right it is. I’m already having a terrible time controlling myself.” He cut into his grilled salmon.

“You are, huh?” I snuck a peek at him, his cheeks reddening. Oh, he was having some dirty thoughts over there. Was he as hard as I was?

“You have no idea how many times I thought about sneaking into your room at night.” His breath caught. “Mind you, I would never have done it before breaking things off with JJ.”

“And what if I hadn’t come on to you last night?” I stuffed pasta into my mouth, the creamy pesto and garlic to die for. Dating Myles would be good for my ego. He had no filter.

“I don’t know. I would have thought about it. A lot.” He gave me a pointed look. “How’s your pasta? The menu said it was homemade.” He pointed his fork at my plate.

“It’s awesome. Want to try it?” I turned my fork in the noodles and lifted it to him. “Open up.”

Leaning over the table, he opened his mouth, his gaze locking on mine.

Holy fuck, that was how he’d look right before he sucked my dick. My balls tingled, and I slid the pasta into his mouth.

“Mmm, damn.” He held his fingers over his lips. “That’s so good. Want some salmon? This is great too.”

“Hell yes. Feed me.” I shifted to the chair next to his, sliding my plate and champagne over. Why the hell were we sitting so far apart? As I opened my mouth, he pushed a forkful of salmon into it. The fish was rich and buttery, with the hint of lemon and dill. “Holy shit, Myles. We have to come here again.”

“This could be our special place?” He sipped some champagne. “Like we could come here after we win games? The place is open until two am.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” I wiped my mouth with my napkin and focused on him. “Sure, on nights when we have home games and we both win, we’ll come here to celebrate.” I seriously wanted to give him everything he asked for. What the hell was he doing to me?

“You mean we’ll come here for our cellys? In hockey we call it a celly.” He giggled and scooped some roasted potatoes onto his fork.

“Yeah, you hockey players have your own language.” I ate more of my pasta. I’d need to brush up on it. Hell, I was living with an NHL goalie, too. “Do your other friends from the Coyotes ever come around?”

With a swift nod, he said, “They do. Periodically, we have pizza and beer parties and play video games.”

“Let me guess, NHL?” I chuckled. These guys lived and breathed their sport, maybe even more than football players.

He set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I want to revisit what you said. You’ve only bottomed once?” His grin waned.

Rubbing my index finger on the edge of my plate, I said, “Yeah. I wanted to try it, and this guy was game, so we did it.” Did he like to top more than bottom? I peeked at him.

“Okay, but you liked it.” A wrinkle formed between his brow and he tented his fingers over his plate. “How many guys have you been with? Didn’t you say you’d just been hooking up with guys when the chance presented itself?”

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