Page 35 of Slew Foot
Because Mickeylikedtelling people what to do. On and off the ice.
He’d had a lot of D-partners who hated it. And he’d dated or hooked up with some people who’d hated it and others who loved it.
His longest relationship was with a girl named Emilia back home. Dating her was how he’d finally figured out what he liked in the bedroom. After some particularly hot sex where he’d gotten a little demanding and she’d been loudly and enthusiastically into it, she’d rolled over and eyed him up and down.
“It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” she’d said with a gleam in her eye and kissed him, starting the whole thing up all over again.
And while Rafe liking being told what to do on the ice didn’t at all guarantee he was into that in the bedroom, or he’d want to do that with Mickey, it sent Mickey’s head spiraling down rabbit holes of imagination.
He could picture Rafe sprawled on his back, gripping the headboard and being so good about not coming while Mickey stroked his cock and toyed with his prostate?—
“Get your head in the game, Krause!” Coach Hoyt shouted in his ear. “You’re up! We need you out there.”
Mickey swore in every language he knew as he hopped over the boards, muscle memory taking over as he scanned the ice and tried to figure out what he’d missed while he’d been thinking aboutthings I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about,he reminded himself.Especially on the bench!
He kept it together for the rest of the game and he wasn’t the reason they eventually lost to Florida by a single point.
But it was a reminder that he absolutely needed to stop this.
And yet, when they stripped off after the game and Rafe dropped his base layers on the dressing room floor, then started walking toward the showers, Mickey automatically barked, “Hey! Pick that up. It belongs in the laundry, not on the floor.”
Rafe turned back, limp cock swinging softly between his thick thighs as he crouched down and did exactly what Mickey had ordered, shooting him a sweet smile and a quiet, “thanks for the reminder,” before he walked away.
Mickey nodded tersely, looking away, his blunt nails digging half-moons into his palms. After Rafe disappeared through the door, Mickey took several deep breaths, like that was going to do a damn thing to help the situation.
Oh, he was so screwed.
CHAPTER NINE
“You sure you guys don’t mind me being over here so much?” Rafe asked a week later as he shoveled in a chicken and brown rice burrito bowl after an especially grueling Pilates workout and practice.
They were in Mickey and Tanner’s living room, and Rafe had gotten in the habit of coming over almost every day. It was kinda great, honestly. But he didn’t want to wear out his welcome.
“You’re all good,” Tanner said, his mouth full of nachos.
Rafe glanced over at Mickey who was staring down at his cilantro-lime chicken salad like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Mouse?” he asked softly, wondering if maybe Mickeywasannoyed by it. Maybe Rafehadworn out his welcome. Sometimes, if they were up late gaming or watching movies or whatever, he crashed in the guest room and rode with them to practice the next morning. He’d even tagged along when Mickey went grocery shopping the other day.
It was a lot of togetherness, especially since they were D-partners. But Mickey only looked up and smiled at Rafe. “No, it’s fine.”
After lunch, they argued about if they should watch a movie or do some gaming while Mickey and Rafe cleaned up.
“Dude, I got TMNT: Shredder’s Revenge,” Tanner called out from the couch. “We should play.”
Mickey frowned. “TMNT?”
“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” Rafe explained. “Did you have them in Germany?”
Mickey nodded. “Yes. And Tanner made me watch the movie.”
Rafe frowned too. “There’s a bunch of them. The old, old one? Or the new old ones or …”
Mickey shrugged.
“The one from a couple of years ago,” Tanner explained. “Mutant Mayhem.”
“Cool.”
