Page 10 of Unrivaled

The suck became a bite that made Max’s cock jerk and his knees try to buckle. “You’re such a shithead.”

The world narrowed down to Armstrong’s hand—in Max’s hair now, pulling like he knew how much Max loved it, or maybe like he didn’tcare, which might be hotter—the warm, salty scent of him, the pressure of Max’s palm, and Armstrong’s dick next to his. Max was riding the edge.

“A shithead who’s gonna make you come,” Max pointed out, light-headed. Armstrong’s cock was hot and hard against his own. He had to be close.

“You first,” Armstrong growled, and he tugged Max’s head back hard enough to make his eyes water and bit the base of his throat.

Max couldn’t argue. He was too busy coming his brains out. The pleasure coursing through his body spilled over his fingers in a hot flood. Armstrong came too, groaning softly against Max’s neck, his stubble burning perfectly against Max’s sensitive skin.

Oh my God, Max thought as he tried to catch his breath. He’d known the sex would be good, but simultaneous-orgasm good? For a quickie hand job in the arena basement?

Would they evensurviveif they fucked in a bed?

Max wanted to find out, like, yesterday. It left him wrong-footed.

“Holy fuck,” he said finally. His voice sounded hoarse. Had he been screaming?

Armstrong didn’t answer. He was leaning his full weight against Max, breathing heavily into the damp skin of Max’s neck. Max probably looked like a chew toy. Worth it.

But this was getting a little too… cuddly. Max was generally a fan of cuddling, but Armstrong wouldn’t be into it, at least not with him. He needed to remind them both of that before he got too comfortable.

Carefully, Max withdrew his hand from their cocks and then, less carefully, wiped it on Armstrong’s T-shirt.

That got his attention. “What the fuck!” He jolted like Max had electrocuted him.

“Don’t be such a baby. You left your mark all over me. Fair’s fair.” At least Armstrong could wash the shirt. Max raised his clean hand to his neck and touched the side of it. He was going to hear all aboutthatat dinner.

Still worth it.

“I’m supposed to walk out of the arena like this?” His face was scarlet. His lips were swollen. He looked halfway between fucked out and ready to go another round. If Max didn’t have dinner plans, he’d be tempted.

Hell, he was tempted anyway.

Max needed to get a grip on himself. “I still have a spare shirt in my stall.” It was a Team Canada shirt with Max’s number on it. He was pretty sure Armstrong would prefer to wear jizz. “I guess I can part with it for a good cause.”

“You’re all heart.”

Despite himself, Max laughed. “You’re so salty.” Max made an effort to be cheerful. That was what people expected from him. Grady Armstrong obviously didn’t give a fuck about expectations. Max respected that.

He tucked himself back into his leggings. “I can’t believe you made a Grindr profile with your NHL profile picture. The hell were you thinking, bud?”

“It’s Grady,” Armstrong—Grady—said grumpily. “I’m not your bud.”

“You could be,” Max said impulsively. Off the ice, anyway. Max wasn’t gonna stop chirping, checking, or getting in his face, but he was willing to add sucking, fucking, and comingonhis face. Or vice versa. He wasn’t picky. “Anyway, the Grindr profile? You didn’t wanna be a little more subtle?”

Grady sighed. “My sister set me up with an online dating… thing.”

Oh my God.Max bit his lip hard and took a deep breath to rein in the laughter. He doubted Grady would appreciate it, and it might keep him from agreeing to a round two in the future. “She downloaded and filled out the app for you, didn’t she.”

This time the sigh was longer and deeper. “How’d you know?”

Max cleared his throat. “Well. For one thing, Grindr’s a hookup-and-sexting app.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. She got you, bud.” It slipped out. Max didn’t bother to correct himself.

Grady let it slide. “She probably didn’t realize it was the wrong app. But that does explain a lot.”

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