Page 36 of Forbidden Hockey
Jesus, he’s serious.
Several beats of silence pass between us as I attempt to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to say to that.
“Or, maybe I’m gonna catch the cute delivery boy before he leaves.” He smirks. “I am single and ready to mingle after all.”
It’s decided. I’m requesting a new delivery person immediately. “Would you just shut the fucking door and sit the fuck down.”
He struts further into the room, but only just inside the door, shutting it behind him. He’s clearly pleased with himself, but he shouldn’t be. He’s always claiming he’s not a brat, but that’s brat-like behavior if I’ve ever seen it.
Dirk shuts and locks the office door. Interesting. I didn’t tell him to lock it.
“You’re testing my damn patience,” I say once he’s facing me again.
“So? You’re testing mine, too.”
I run fingers through my hair; they come out sweat-slicked. “You want to talk about this,” I say, gesturing between us. “Is that it?”
We’re not supposed to talk about it, we’re never supposed to utter it out loud. We decided that the moment we felt the spark. It was a mutual thing, since it’s pretty obvious why we can’t give in to our urges.
Our exhausting and endless urges. But looks like they’re wearing both of us down.
“I don’t know.” He groans, sagging against the wall, letting his head sink back so he’s staring at the ceiling. “You were looking at me like you wanted to eat me this morning. It made my dick hard. My dick convinced me to do this—show up here and offer myself to you—but now I’m having second thoughts.”
“I did want to eat you this morning,” I admit, regretting the words as soon as I say them, but also unable to stop myself. “Still do, which is why I’m staying over here and you’re staying the fuck over there.”
“Uggggh.” He groans some more, sliding down the wall until his ass hits the floor. “Trav.”
“It’s not happening, Dirk.”
“So, we keep up our sexless marriage bullshit, is that it?”
Is that how he sees us? I guess it’s fucking true. We’re together a lot. We might not be attached at the hip like my son is with his not-so-secret love interest, but when Dirk’s not hanging out with his friends, he’s hanging out with me.
I haven’t done much dating either, with the only exceptions being the ones I tried to date to get over him.
Did not work. Not even a little. I stopped trying.
Exhaling slowly, I force myself to say the words. “I think we should end that, too. It shouldn’t have started in the first place.”
“Fuck that, Trav.”
Silence falls over the room like a cold blast. I stay—safely—where I am, as if distance will protect me from my feelings for him. Because the truth is, as much as I want Dirk, want to abuse his fucking ass with my cock and make him scream for so long his voice turns raw, that’s not all I want. If that’s all this was, my lust would have died a long time ago. I want all of him, want him to be all mine. I want to bring him to my bed, keep him wrapped around me all night, then make him breakfast and coffee in the morning
Every morning.
That’s why he’s so terrifying. I’ve already seen glimpses of forever with Dirk.
He remains seated on the floor, his back resting against the door. “Do you need more time? Will it help when I’m thirty?”
“Even when you’re thirty, I’ll still be twenty years older than you.”
“It bothers you that much?”
“Yes. God, Dirk. I don’t even love the age gap between Dash and Syd. We’d be worse than that. A man in his forties dating a twenty-something-year-old is a goddamn predator.”
“Or a daddy,” Dirk says, some of the life returning to those pretty eyes of his. He stands slowly. “Alright, you win this round.”
“Not a competition, Dirk.”
