Page 21 of Two for Roughing

“Desperate for it, are you?”

Howard seemed to consider briefly, then shrugged. “I have no dignity to lose anymore. I’ve been dreaming about the way you fucked me for nearly a year, and no one else has come close. I need you to do it again and prove it wasn’t a fluke.”

Damir frowned at the thought of whoever else Howard was sleeping with not being able to satisfy him. One of Damir’s favorite memories of last season was the sight of Howard melted into his hotel sheets, fucked senseless and unable to move. At the time, he’d been ornery about it, but looking back, it had been a high point. It pleased him to know no one else had given Howard the same pleasure, though he hated the thought of Howard being left unsatisfied.

Howard would have to learn to be more discerning about his partners.

“Please?” Howard added again.

“You beg nicely.”

“So you’ll come?”

“I certainly hope so.”

Howard groaned. “Ugh, mood ruined by dad jokes. Why would you say that? It was terrible.”

“Are you always this dramatic?”

Putting his index finger on his chin as if considering intensely, Howard said, “Yup. Pretty much.”

Damir was still chuckling a few minutes later when they hung up. Before he could think about it too hard, he texted Coach Simmons to let him know he planned to take his curfew exemption in San Francisco.

Ketchup popped his head out of the guest room door. He squinted at Damir suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Damir, still at the kitchen table in front of the dirty dishes he hadn’t cleaned up in the last half hour, looked up from his phone. “Hm?”

“You’re laughing.”

“And?”

“You never laugh.”

“I laugh all the time. I laughed at you this morning when you fell on your ass during practice.”

Ketchup’s mouth twisted. “I’d describe that as a cackle. What’s got you so happy?”

Damir got to his feet and headed to the dishwasher. He didn’t even grimace when the door shifted slightly as he opened it. “Nothing. I’m going to hit the gym before bed. Want to come?”

“Ew. We were at the gym all morning.”

“We were on the ice; there’s a difference.”

“And then we went to the gym.”

Damir shook his head. “A cooldown after practice is standard, and we won’t manage a weight routine tomorrow since we’re traveling.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ketchup said, wrinkling his nose.

This was why he’d been sent down and then traded. He’d only cracked the main roster this year because no one good wanted to play in Chicago. “Do you even like hockey?” Damir asked skeptically.

“Love it,” Ketchup told him. “But you can’t only love one thing.”

He disappeared back into his room, leaving Damir wondering if he had just been given profound wisdom or if Ketchup would be relegated to the AHL again before his entry-level contract ran out.

Damir shook his head to clear it of stupid thoughts he couldn’t do anything about and headed for the gym in his apartment complex. Tomorrow was looking up.

Chapter Five