Page 87 of Broken Ice
And, okay, Beaucouldacknowledge that both he and Emilio had gone a little crazy scenting each other during Beau’s heat. It’d been a fucking rush, knowing that they wouldn’t have to wipe away their claims. That the whole world would know who they belonged to.
Beau had gotten on Emilio’s dick, riding him like a pro, grinding on Emilio’s knot. He’d barely let Emilio touch him, ramping up the need between them until Emilio had come with a growl.
He’d flipped him over, eyes wild, and crushed Beau to the bed.
“You’remine,” he’d growled, and Beau had whole-heartedly agreed.
It had been intimate, and moving, and magical.
Something the DC Eagles didnotappear to get.
“Was it just him that came on your face, or did you let the whole team do it?” one of the players chirped.
“Your mom’s a ho,” Beau retorted. The idiot didn’t deserve an imaginative slapback—this was a classic, and he was sticking to it.
Shame it got lost in the scuffle that followed as Emilio slammed into the Eagle hard enough to knock the feet from under both of them.
The fight that followed was scrabbling on the ice rather than a dignified tilt, but at least Emilio got a few more punches in than the opponent.
Beau shook his head, half-amused and half-exasperated, as Emilio was finally pulled away and led to one of the penalty boxes. He picked up Emilio’s dropped gloves and stick, handing them over after the Alpha was settled in the sin bin.
“Really?” Beau said.
Emilio growled something incomprehensible. Beau left him to it.
Not that it helped Emilio calm down any. As soon as he was released and on the bench again, he sat by Beau, fuming.
“If that motherfucker gets close to you…”
“Dude, you need to stop giving in to them. The best revenge is to score a goal,” Beau reasoned.
“I can’t believeyouof all people are giving me that advice.”
“I’m very smart.”
Emilio glared across the ice. “If anybody says a single word to you, I’m caving their face in.”
Beau sighed. What was he supposed to do?Notlet his beefy boyfriend throw hands for him?
Which didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give him a hard time after.
They’d been staying mostly at Emilio’s place, moving Beau’s nesting stuff there in case of a heat hitting. Bingo was happy to have them both in the house so much, and Beau was enjoying slipping into Emilio’s day-to-day life. He loved walking the dog with Emilio, and making food together, and sitting in front of the TV in the evenings, cuddled up and chilling.
It was also fun to fuck regularly out of heat. Mostly, Beau let Emilio take the lead—Beau liked letting go during sex, being manhandled a little.
Sometimes, though, it was necessary to regain control.
Beau wasn’t really mad at Emilio for the stunt he pulled during the game. If he disliked the whole possessive schtick, he wouldn’t have been attracted to the Alpha in the first place.
That didn’t mean it could keep happening.
“Emilio…” Beau started as they arrived home late that night. Bingo had already been walked by the sitter and was lying in his bed as Beau and Emilio found something to eat in the kitchen.
“I know,” Emilio grunted, peering into the fridge, still in his suit, jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up.
Beau became distracted momentarily by those strong, thick forearms but snapped himself back on track. “Like, it was very ‘hot Alpha’ of you to protect me like that…but Pav is gonna kill both of us if we let our relationship get in the way of winning games.”
Emilio closed the fridge door. “I know.”
