Page 140 of Friendzone Hockey
Thinking of his bed reminds me of the twins he had in his bed—the ones I still want to maim.
“We’re burning your old bed. I’m not setting foot in it.”
Lying beside me, he reaches down, and two fingers find my hole, using the cool lube to grease me up.
“You saw the cot. Me, an over six-foot hockey player, slept in a cot made for sixth graders,” he says, casually rubbing those fingers up and down my crease.
“Don’t care. Trent’s lucky he didn’t end up with a black eye.”
He captures my lips, pillaging them while he works his way inside me to the second knuckle and then the base. My mouth drops open.
“I kinda like you jealous, even if you have no reason to be. My heart’s always been yours, Dash. I’ll always be yours.”
I believe him, but that doesn’t stop the visions of me tearing out their eyes. It’s too bad they don’t play hockey.
“Please just stick your cock in me? I don’t need all that opening up.”
He raises a brow. “It’s cute you think me playing with your asshole is just for relaxing you.”
Torture, right. Got it. He’s trying to fucking torture me. I cover my face, losing my elbow perch, and groan. “I didn’t take you for a sadist, Alderchuck.”
He laughs. “Don’t know why. I seem to remember many of our days off, making the lot of you do chores before you went off partying.”
“I th-thought,” I pant, “that you were … were just bein’ logical.” I exhale, falling victim to his fingers in the best way. “So, your plan is to te-tease me to death?”
“My plan is to make you fall apart so I can put you back together.”
Fall apart I do. I free-fall into Stacey’s whirlwind, letting him sweep me away, his ready and willing man.
His fingers pause in my ass. “Did you sleep with Syd in this bed?”
“Nope,” I’m happy to say. We always went to his house.
“Good, that’s good,” he says, resuming toying with my ass.
It’s a whole damn journey, his fingers. They make ocean waves crash against my insides and when he gives my cock a firm squeeze, I buck upward. “Oh god, oh please.”
Stacey keeps me on the precipice for what feels like forever. I’m a moaning pleading mess and all he does is smile into my collarbone. Finally, I grab his neck, complete desperation taking over.
“I want you in me, Stacey Alderchuck, or I’m gonna start raising hell.”
Know what the fucker does? Gives me damn nose kisses like he’s not actively driving me crazy. Never let anyone tell you that the name Alderchuck doesn’t imply a gene for devilishness.
I get what I want. He swoops over me with all the muscle and fire. Holy fuck, his cock’s weeping for me. Dripping away. I don’t forget that he’s already gotten to come.
“Mind sliding that rubber onto me?”
I glare at him. He’s evil. I still love him, but he’s fucking Lucifer sometimes. I tear the package open and roll it down his bulging cock. He flashes me a charming smile, and all right, I forgive him. I can’t help but forgive him.
I also forget my name pretty damn fast, too. He slides his dick right in—no pomp and circumstance. But when he’s there, he sits, unmoving. I know him. He’s soaking in the moment. This one’s titled “First Time in Dash’s Ass”. His body also takes the same sigh mine does.
Ever since we met, our skin touching meant complete. Everything in the world felt right. Nothing else could touch us. Not the pain of our traumatic losses, or the demons that chased us.
But this? It’s a new level of wholeness. We’ve integrated. We’ll never be two people again. Being without him all season was hard. Thinking we were gonna have to sever our unique bond was impossible.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
