Page 27 of Fresh Ice
Truthfully, it’d accomplished nothing more than to scar a part of himself he didn’t like looking at.
That didn’t mean what he had put himself through changed the fact that he was now a nineteen-year-old guy with desires his right hand could only do so much to satiate.
There was no way Alonso could be in a relationship, but Levy was right—if there was an Alpha he trusted completely, maybe he could explore that part of himself without the need for romance.
Against his scarred instincts, Alonso trusted Levy.
It was a ridiculous thought, that Levy was somebody Alonso would entertain sleeping with. Levy was a teammate, for starters, and Alonso valued his friendship. Despite their rocky beginning, he didn’t want to ruin what they had.
And yet, it didn’t stop Alonso fromwanting.
It was as if now that the idea had burrowed in his mind, it refused to leave. He wondered what it would be like to let himself be touched by somebody he actually liked, even as a friend. To let himself be vulnerable, be Omega, with somebody like Levy.
Alonso would never be a house-Omega. He wouldn’t be able to get pregnant until after retirement, if the suppressants hadn’t killed that ability off completely. He wouldn’t be present with his partner most of the year. Wouldn’t be able to give someone what they deserved.
But somebody to sleep with? Just that one thing, that one experience? He’d been denying himself for so long—couldn’t he have at least that?
Alonso stretched out on his hotel bed, looking at Levy as he babbled on about the action movie on the TV.
The long line of Levy’s body was a dark puddle on the white sheets, face alight as he talked. “The actors had to learn how to defuse bombs so they’d understand how serious this stuff is.”
Alonso snorted. “Pretty sure most people know that bombs are serious stuff.”
“Yeah, but they don’t know exactly what goes into the process of defusing one, you know? How steady your body has to be—I heard you can’t let the adrenaline take over because your hands will start shaking.”
“You gotta be a little crazy to wanna do that job.”
Levy nodded. “You’d be good at it, I think.”
“Hey! I’m only crazy for hockey.”
Levy laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’d be good at staying steady.”
“Really?” Alonso asked incredulously. His anxiety would say otherwise.
“I mean, you worry, but during games…you’relocked in. It’s cool to watch.”
“Oh. Thanks,” Alonso muttered, knowing his face was flushing.
“You’re terrible at taking compliments. I hope you know that.”
“I said thank you, what more do you want?” Alonso complained.
Levy grinned at him, lighting up with it, and Alonso felt his heart stutter.
Just like that, Alonso’s mind slipped from the perfectly normal conversation to more heated waters. He wondered if Levy would be this talkative in bed. Alonso had no idea how much experience Levy had, if he’d be shy and clumsy or if his movements would hold the confidence he displayed on the ice.
Alonso almost closed his eyes as he imagined Levy bridging the gap between their hotel beds. How would it feel to have that big, heavy body on top of him? To let the heat of skin on skin take over. To let Levy slip a hand under Alonso’s clothes and—
It was with surprise that Alonso realised he was hard. He got up abruptly, thankful he was the one closest to the bathroom.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Alonso said hastily.
“Again?” Levy asked, but Alonso ignored him.
The rush of hot water over Alonso felt blissful. He’d started to get wet, and he slipped a hand back to trace over his hole, shuddering at the sensation.
He couldn’t help but wish it was somebody else’s fingers instead of his own.
