Page 11 of Bad Pucking Roommate

I could claim curiosity – I’ve never watched another man with a woman let alone seen one come. I could even claim fascination with anything and everything my childhood hero does, which would make a lot more sense than what I suspect is the truth. That I like the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t want to miss a second of it.

There are a whole lot of questions associated with that particular notion. Questions I can’t even begin to answer. Instead, I do my best to shut my brain off, telling myself as long as Luca is looking at me, I’ll look back.

Though we seem locked in some sort of trance, I’m conscious enough of my surroundings to realize Luca’s hips are rocking back andforth at a higher speed. That I can hear his stilted breath from across the room. And there’s a pressure between my own legs that wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Still, I’m unprepared for the image of the tendons in Luca’s neck straining as his mouth falls open on a silent scream.

Oh. Wow.

I’ve got nothing to compare it to. In my limited experience, women throw their head back and shout when they find their release, and men… Well, I don’t know what they usually do. But Luca stares at me the whole time, a mixture of joy and relief and wonder in his stunned expression. It’s hauntingly beautiful, and in this weird, inexplicable way it feels like a gift that he let me witness it.

What’s even harder to explain is that I’d swear he feels exactly the same way since he makes no effort to take his eyes off me even though he’s clearly finished. Until Staci’s voice penetrates the bubble.

“I haven’t felt you come that hard in a while. You want to take this to the bed or are you good?” She runs a manicured hand up and down his thigh, an affectionate gesture even though her words hint that this is a transaction.

“I’m good,” he rasps as she pulls his pants back over his trim waist.

“What about you, cutie?” She casts me a sly glance over her shoulder. “You want a pre-game special too?”

“No thank you.” The tightness I thought I felt earlier is gone, and even if it weren’t I’d still decline. While I wouldn’t consider myself a prude, I’m not sure how I feel about the whole casual sex with strangers thing. It’s never appealed to me before, and it’s not something I want to try now. In front of Luca.

“Maybe next time.” She shrugs into her dress—apparently she didn’t have anything underneath—and pecks Luca on the cheek as shetakes an envelope off the dresser. Then, with a little wave, she spins and lets herself out.

“Um… That was…” The typically confident man before me dips his head and runs a hand through his hair, making me think he’s struggling to give me an explanation I don’t need.

“So, Staci is…”Turns out I can’t finish my sentence either.

“A friend.” Luca rests his weight against the dresser behind him. “I know it probably looked like she’s a professional, but I don’t pay her to—I mean I do, but not because it’s her job. She just...” A slight crease forms between his brows as he seems to wrestle with what he wants to say. “She understands me. And I understand that she can use the extra cash.”

“You don’t have to explain.” I hold my hand up to stop him from saying something he’s not ready to admit out of some sense of obligation after what just happened. “I’m glad you have a friend that gets you. And I’m sorry I got in the middle of it.”

“You didn’t,” he says softly. “I don’t actually mind…” Once again, he seems at a loss for words, and once again I feel like just being here makes him think he has to say them.

Was I expecting the night to go the way it did when I knocked on his door? Hell no. Can I explain it? That’d be a no as well. But after witnessing the change that came over him, the way his posture relaxed for that brief moment of time, I can honestly say I feel better about where his head is at. Which means I need to clear out before that calm is completely erased by whatever explanation he thinks he owes me.

“You seem better,” I cut him off before he can say anything else, “and that’s all I care about. Get some sleep, yeah?”

He gives me a slight up-nod. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” I stand up and head for the door, clapping him on the shoulder as I pass. “See youin the morning.”

I make it into the hallway before my shoulders slump under the weight of my confusion, though I only give myself a second or two to question what happened. Then I resolve to forget the whole thing and act like normal, because Luca and I have an amazing connection on the ice, and it won’t do the team any favors if I’m stuck in a loop over the weird connection that passed between us off of it.

Chapter five

Luca

We go to Portland next, and once again I’ve got some guy yapping in my ear on the plane about how setting goals can help you get out of the cycle of relying on superstition to perform. Two days ago, I might’ve tried to take that advice to heart. Today, after playing a decidedly solid game, I’m not so sure.

Did I score a hat trick? No. But I had two goals and an assist, which is pretty damn close, and I even had a hand in blocking two shots the opposing team took on our goal. I didn’t play like that after listening to this mumbo jumbo about thinking positive. I played like that after Justus watched—no, was mesmerized—by Staci sucking my dick.

I’m still in a state of disbelief about that.

When he first knocked on my door, I admit my mind went there. I was freaking out about my lack of an audience for the evening and suddenly there he was. It seemed perfect. But I quickly shelved that idea because Justus is a good kid and he doesn’t deserve the weight of helping me carry my burdens.

I figured we’d watch Sportscenter for a few and then he’d be on his way. Then Staci was early, and she came in like a tornado, barely giving either of us time to speak. I was oddly grateful for that since I couldn’tbring myself to ask Justus to stay even though I knew he could be the solution to my problem, but I resolved not to ask, so I didn’t. Then suddenly she was on her knees, and…

Holy hell, I’ve never experienced an encounter like that before. Usually, the other guy watches with a blank expression—like Noah—or takes in the whole picture as he barks commands—like Charlie. Never has my audience watched me as intently as Justus did, and it was hands down the hottest thing I ever experienced.

Being the sole object of someone’s focus, their eyes riveted on me while mine were on them… In the past having an audience fed my ego. Made me feel like I’m a man to be envied. A winner. And I sort of felt that with Justus. But there was something more, too. Something deeper.

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