Page 96 of Crease Collision

“Me too.”

I’m railing him now, and we’re making a lot of noise. He has his gaze locked on mine, so intense that my eyes fill with tears. I’m fucking him so hard he can’t keep his legs up, so I grip his thighs and hold him open.

“Love this,” he chokes out.

“You’re everything.” The sharp feelings tear the words from me. “Need you… every day.”

“Fuck!” His body jerks as he paints us with his cum, and his cries push me over the edge. Yelling his name, I drive into him and freeze, shuddering with the force of my orgasm. It’s so intense I collapse, still shooting deep inside him.

Soon we go quiet, panting while our hearts hammer against each other’s chests. I’m still inside him, moaning with aftershocks. I wish we could stay like this forever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

KAI

The January schedule is trying to kill me. Three cities in six days, two home games in forty-eight hours. Another game tomorrow, a flight to the West Coast Sunday. In the middle of all this bullshit, Oskar and I have managed texts, stolen calls, and one weary video chat. He fell asleep in the middle of it, cheek pressed to a hotel pillow, while I watched him breathe.

Today is a day off for the Condors. It should belong to Ozzy and me. Instead, the Fury are in Columbus, heading to Detroit tomorrow, and I’m standing in my living room with my second cup of coffee, looking out at Manhattan and trying to figure out my life.

Saturday. We’ll have an entire day before hockey takes over again.

I should be focusing on rest today. Instead, I’m thinking about Oskar. Which is becoming a problem.

The Condors are having a hell of a season, and so are the Fury. Everyone knows why. Oskar has taken them from dangerous into a legitimate nightmare. The bastard is just that good.

So am I. Which means that if we want to make it to the Laurentian Cup Finals, I’ll have to beat him.

The thought is a hard punch to the gut.

Sometime during this insane season, Oskar Olofsson stopped being a hot Swedish problem I hooked up with over the summer and became someone I can’t let go. And now I’m…

Nope.

I take a sip of coffee before my mind can finish that thought. While I swallow, my phone buzzes. It’s the damn Condors group chat.

JACE: Has anyone else noticed how grouchy Kai is? I think he’s missing Olofsson.

MCKAY: I’ve noticed. Are they really getting it on?

JACE: Dude, what planet were you born on?

NOAH: Wrong chat, boys.

While my mind starts skating on its rink, I thumb out a message.

KAI: Come on, Oskar’s just a friend.

Before I can hit send, their messages disappear.

What the actual fuck?

My stomach twists. Are they talking about us so much they’ve made a special group chat for it? They don’t know anything, so they’re either joking or trying to figure out if I’m sleeping with the enemy.

What would they say if they knew I was? And that Oskar isn’t my enemy?

I pace around the living room chewing on that, then stop in my tracks.

Hell, I don’t want to type “Oskar’s just a friend.” The thought of it makes me sick.