Page 12 of Shiver
I pause when Deryke Schneider of Montreal makes a stupid spectacular save. “Fuck yeah,” I mutter. That would have been a devastating goal to break the shutout in the middle of the third period. It’s one of those saves that will be watched over and over.
Another knock at my door has me turning and pulling it open.
Egon smiles at me, holding a paper up in his hand. “Rake, I got a goddamn B!”
As much as I try to contain my smirk, seeing the way he’s beaming makes me want to pull him in and push him to his knees. Let him have a reward by choking on my dick. I’m sure his moans would fill the room from the best celebratory blowie imaginable.
Or maybe the worst. I’m positive he’s never had a dick in his mouth before.
Instead, I take the paper from him, mentally noting which answers he missed so we can work on those areas. Egon is still beaming at me when I look back up. The corner of my lips quirk. “That’s really great, Egon. You’re doing amazing.”
As I knew would happen, his eyes turn slightly glassy, and he shivers. What’s new is when he takes his bottom lip between his teeth. That makes me smile a bit more. More words to push him a little further are on my tongue when a cheer comes from the television.
Egon blinks several times as I turn around. The station is on the New York game and they’re replaying a rapid pass sequence between Owen Vincent and Franz Bauer, wingmen for the New York Lights that ended with a fake from Vincent as he slapped it back to Bauer. Who shot it through the legs of the Gull’s goalie, Trustein.
“Hell yeah,” Egon says, moving around me to walk into my apartment. He drops his bag by the table as I close the door and follow him toward the television. He pauses behind my couch, his hands on the back and eyes glued to the television. “Look at that. That’s fucking magic, right there. I’ve always dreamed of having that kind of connection on the ice. When you justknowwhere your teammate is, as if they’re an extension of your body.”
I watch him, letting the small smile on my lips linger before grabbing the remote and flicking the television off. “It’s rare to have,” I say.
Egon sighs. “Yep. I’ve been playing since I was seven and let me tell you, the closest I came to that was when I was eleven during a summer camp. The guy was thirteen and I swear, we played our own game around everyone else on the ice.”
His gaze goes far off for a minute. Then he looks at me. “Funny thing is, he never went to the NHL. I found him on social media a few years ago and it’s disappointing that he let his talent go without following it. He was incredible.”
“I’ve heard the same about you,” I say as he pulls his books out and stacks them. He pushes one toward me with his current assignment sticking out between the pages and what he made it through so far. As I’m looking over his work, I continue. “But I also hear that you didn’t enter the draft.”
Egon chuckles. “Nah. I’m only twenty and my joints already hurt. I’d rather be behind the scenes. That’s why I’m studying for a degree in exercise science so I can work with a team for conditioning.”
Nodding, I study his face as he watches my hands open the book. I’d be willing to bet he’s attracted to me and doesn’t realize it. I’ve stretched my goal to fuck him to accommodate helping him pass his classes. I don’t want to break him until after the semester is over. If I time it right, he’ll go out on break, having passed his classes as I assured my uncle he would, having been fully fucked in the ass and begging for more, while I tell him it was fun but time to move on. The break from school over the holiday should be enough time for him to accept it and not interfere with anything else.
It’s really the perfect set up. End it when our semester studying is over. It’s even a legitimate excuse that I can sell to my uncle if it comes up. It shouldn’t because what hockey player runs to tell his coach that he was seduced by a man for the first time, liked it, and is now wrecked over it?
Not Egon. I’m sure about that.
“I’m sure there’s some argument there about following your dreams and opportunity isn’t always presented to everyone and whatnot,” I say, waving my hand in the air.
His eyes track my hand before settling on my face. He really is a good-looking man. I could probably stare at his damn eyes for longer than what’s comfortable.
Egon smiles. “Sure. And I’ve already heard plenty of muttered bitterness about me not seizing opportunities that are handed to me. But my dream doesn’t have to be their dream.”
My uncle was right. He’s a good kid. Smart.
He’s easy to have a conversation with. Easy to be around. And outside of chemical systems, he’s actually pretty easy to teach. I don’t mind the challenge that chemical systems presents us. It’s somewhat entertaining to try different methods and then receive his texts of excitement when he gets a concept.
If I wasn’t set on fucking him, I’d say he’d maybe be a decent guy to hang around. Maybe if I played it right, I could have both. Fuck the straight boy until he knows he’s not straight, and then convince him that we can still chill.
We begin working and the time easily slips away until an hour and a half passes. Egon sits back and yawns, rubbing his hand through his short, cropped hair. I’d like him to grow it out a little so I can grip it in a fist. But then I’m distracted when his shirt lifts and I’m presented with very nicely toned abs.
And thus why I enjoy fucking with athletes. It’s their bodies I crave. The hard muscles. Taut sin. Powerful hold. Bigger than me.
I love to break them.
“I begin away games this week,” Egon says. He rubs his eyes with both hands. “This is when hockey starts kicking my ass.”
I chuckle. “I bet.”
His eyes meet mine, his brows furrowing. “I’m going to have to miss some study sessions.” For a minute he bites his bottom lip. I’m sure he’s not really looking at me anymore, which is fine since I’m now considering taking his lips between my teeth to give his jaw a break. I’m kind like that. He sighs, pulling my attention back to his eyes. “I admit, I’m scared I’m going to fall behind and begin failing again.”
“Check your calendar,” I say.
