Page 9 of Slew Foot
Especially because Mickey knew Gavin had acquired Rafe forhim.
Not … personally, of course. But out on the ice. Because Mickey had been playing horribly all season.
It was frustrating, but unlike some guys, he refused to get all up in his head about the slump. It was what it was, and he’d keep trying until something clicked.
All things, both bad and good, came to an end eventually.
Mickey watched out of the corner of his eye as Rafe stripped down and put on workout gear, sneaking a quick peek at his flat abs and thick thighs.Nice.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
Rafe nodded. “I had something on the plane. It was business class, so it was decent.”
“Yeah, you probably don’t fit in economy, do you?” Mickey said, looking him up and down.
Huffing his amusement, Rafe tugged on a T-shirt. Brand-new, with the Harriers’ logo on the front. The equipment manager must have left it in his stall for him. They had agreatcrew here.
The soft cotton stretched over Rafe’s thick shoulders nicely and Mickey stifled a little sigh. Well, their GM couldn’t have done a better job finding a D-partner just his type if he’d tried.
On the ice though? Well, that remained to be seen.
The problem was, no matter how many guys they tried, they couldn’t seem to find the right fit for Mickey.
He wasn’ttryingto be difficult. He showed up early, he worked hard, and he went into every game trying to do his best. But he’d play with a guy for a while and every flicker of chemistry they managed to scrape together in practice, would sort of … peter out during the game.
Mickey was a left-handed shot and, generally speaking, played left defense. They’d rotated through the big guns on the right—he’d been adisasterwith Luke Crawford—and even tried bringing up guys from Concord, where their AHL team was located, to pair with him.
None of them worked.
In a fit of desperation when Crawford was out with his latest suspension, they’d even tried having him play his off side and slotted him into the right defense position. No dice.
Lately, their head coach, Hoyt Kent, had started looking increasingly desperate with every meeting they had.
And now they’d brought in Rafe. Mickey was praying they’d have a bright spark of instant chemistry tonight, something to show if they were likely to work well together or not.
Mickey wondered what they’d do if thatdidn’twork out.
Probably trademe, he thought with a rueful sigh. Because his entry-level cap hit was going to waste.
And now they’d taken on Rafe, who had a four-point-three-million-dollar contract. Ugh, no pressure for this to go well, right?
He glanced over at Rafe to see him standing, looming over Mickey.
An image flickered through Mickey’s mind of getting on his knees for Rafe, squeezing those thick thighs, and taking his—probably equally thick—cock into his mouth.
Mickey pictured sucking Rafe until his body trembled and he had to brace himself, his big hand gentle as it cupped the back of Mickey’s head. Mickey would use every skill he had to make Rafe beg and plead and?—
“Mickey? Could you show me to the gym?” Rafe asked, staring down at him with a worried little frown. “I need to get in a super quick dryland workout before we go out for warmups.”
“Oh, yes.” Mickey stood, forcing the fantasy from his mind. “This way.”
They had hockey to play together. As appealing as Rafe was, Mickey’s focus needed to be on the game.
Although he’d never admit it aloud, maybe Tanner was right.
Maybe heshouldfind someone to hook up with. Perhaps if he channeled his attraction to Rafe into something more productive, he’d get it out of his system so he could focus on what was important.
As they waited in the tunnel before the first period, Mickey wondered how it would go tonight. Although he and Rafe had batted a few pucks back and forth during warmups, Mickey wouldn’t have an opportunity to see what he was like on the ice until their first shift out together.
