Point Shot 01 - Two Man Advantage (4 page)

“That was a goal, you inbred hicks!” I yelled at the smattering of ticket-purchasers. One guy stood up, hooted in glee, then began clapping. The other fans followed suit. By the glory of Gretzky, these idiots had been on a goal drought for so long they didn’t know it was time to get a drink. The Cougars on the bench were stunned, or too high and mighty to react favorably to a teammate putting a one under the Cougars’ name on the scoreboard.

Once I had my seat, I nodded at the back-claps from the coaches. A trainer looped a towel around my neck. I ran it up behind my visor, the clean cotton smelling much better than the bench full of ripe hockey players. When I was done cleaning my face and my visor, I glanced down the bench. Down at the far end was Arou. He was the only player who even acknowledged that I was sucking in oxygen. His round head bobbed once. I returned my sights to the action on the ice. If Dan Arou thought I needed him to congratulate me for doing my job, he was sadly mistaken. Vic Kalinski needed nobody.

Chapter Five

He caught me as I was slipping into my Escalade. My hair was partially frozen from stopping to sign a few autographs for kids. Anyone who braves the Cayuga cold deserves some signage.

“Hey, nice goal,” Arou said, leaning against the open car door.

“Thanks.”

“So the rest of us,” he jerked his dark head at the mob of players heading to their cars, “are heading to the Purple Onion for a few beers, to celebrate.”

I blinked at him stupidly. “Celebrate what? Being anally raped by the Knights eight to one?”

“Nah.” He smiled. I cranked the Caddy over, my breath fogging in front of my face. Fucker had a smile that would melt the polar ice caps. “We’re celebrating the fact that we got a star who can make shit happen. I tell you, Kalinski, this team is going to come to life now that you’re here.”

“Yeah, don’t let your unicorns out of the dream stables yet, Frodo. Boston will be calling me back soon,” I informed him while turning the heater up as high as it would go.

“Ah, well, maybe,” he muttered.

I refused to look at him. Those hangdog eyes of his would weaken me. Then I’d see his fat bottom lip hanging out and I would have to grab it with my teeth. My dick liked the thought of that.
Shit.

“Yeah, maybe definitely, but hey, go have a drink with your teammates.” I reached for the handle.

Dan didn’t move. The door slapped his sturdy body. “They’re your teammates too, Kalinski,” he said.

I stared at my frosted window, shook my head, then elbowed the tenacious little Acadian terrier aside. As soon as the door closed, that sour feeling in my gut simmered down. I peeled out of the parking lot, leaving some black tire marks in my wake. Moronic little twat! Didn’t he know that you never got close to anyone who could squeeze your heart in their hand like a rotten tomato?

* * * * *

Road trips! Yippee and fucking yahoo. This was also part of the Barracuda management’s plan. Torture Kalinski by making him ride on a fucking bus with a team full of puds, and then, when they arrive at the seedy hotel in the middle of Bumfuck, Minnesota, make him share a room with Dan Arou. Yeah. I think there’s something in the Geneva Convention about cruel and unusual punishment, right? It’s inhumane, and Dan Arou is a jerk for being the one to speak up and claim my pale Polish ass as a roomie for the trip.

Why the hell would he sound off like that in the hotel lobby? I would have been content to spend my nights alone. I’m used to it. I actually prefer it. That’s why I never let anyone have a key to my place. Keys mean someone is staying. Keys mean commitments, feelings and eventual stomping of feelings by the key holder. Now I’d have to sit there and talk to the short bastard with the sexy mouth. I rifled through my duffel bag, hoping to find a box cutter so I could end my suffering before it started. All I found was a disposable razor.

Arou came bouncing back into the green-and-yellow room, carrying a couple of cans of soda. He tossed one to me. I caught it, popped the tab, then sat on my twin bed. Dan threw himself onto his bed, stretched out his cute stubby legs, then looked over at me through long, dark bangs.

“What?” I asked. “Don’t you like diet?” he asked, then placed his can on his abdomen. Sleet pelted the lone window in this severely cramped room. I watched that can rise and fall. My mouth got dry. I took a long pull and belched. Dan was pleased. The smile he gave me made my balls tingle.

“So tell me, Kalinski, what is it about you that makes you act like such an enormous spurt of semen?”

I lowered the can from my mouth, the bubbling soda catching halfway down my throat. “FYI, Tom Thumb, I don’t act like a spurt of semen,” I told him after swallowing roughly.

“Yeah, you really
do
act like a cum stain, and I’m curious as to why,” Dan said, rolling his head on the two pillows it rested on to study me like a germ on a microscope slide.

Placing my soda to the shared table, I stood up to take off my jacket and tie. Pro players travel looking like pro players despite their new and pathetic surroundings. “If I want to talk about how often Mother beat me when I was a kid, I’ll talk to the team shrink, but thanks for the offer.”

I stalked past the runt staring slack-jawed at me, my goal the bathroom and a long shower with a side of jacking off. Dan sat up quickly, his soda tumbling down between his legs to soak the bedding. I shut the bathroom door on him as he hurried to strip the wet coverlet and sheets from his bed.

I was soaping up my head when I heard the bathroom door squeak. I froze, hands on my head, shampoo foam sneaking down my temples.

“Hey, Kalinski? I’m sorry if I touched a sore spot, okay?”

There I stood, like a carving of the Roman shampoo god Dandrufficus, silent and stony. I was aching for something but didn’t know what.

No. That’s a miserable-ass lie. I ached to see Arou pull back the thin shower curtain, step over the side of the tub and kiss me into forgetting my tenth birthday…and my eleventh…and my fourteenth as well. I cleared my throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said loudly enough to be heard over the rushing water.

The plastic curtain rustled when he closed the door. My fingers slipped from my head to hang by my thighs. Eyes closed, I stepped forward. The stream beat down on my head, filling my ears with water and bubbles. I could still hear Dan just on the other side of the shower curtain. My shoulder muscles tensed.

“I tend to let my mouth run away with me sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I know how that goes."

Taking a step back, I glanced at the dark form outside the curtain. He must be lounging on the small sink. There wasn’t room for two men in here, especially me and Daniel Arou. I turned to let the water beat the tension from my upper back.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Dan said. I placed my hands on the tiles, not even seeing the mildew on the grout. Why the fuck was this man apologizing? “I’m sorry if your childhood was rough.”

Yep, that was the clincher. I threw the curtain to the right so hard the old, brittle plastic tore off several of the rusty metallic shower rings. Dan lifted his head quickly from his study of his feet.

“You don’t know shit about me or my childhood. For your information, asscrack, what I said was a joke!” I snarled, pointing a finger at him.

He stared at me. Water was dripping from my finger to the floor. His eyes betrayed him. I saw the long, hungry look. My accusatory digit fluttered downward. My cock began to rise to take my pointy-finger’s place. Dan grew slightly pale, mumbled something, then tripped over his large feet out the bathroom door.

I exited the shower. Just stepped out. Left the water running, wetting the floor, and followed the stupid shit. Dan was facing the front door, his back as stiff as my prick.

“I was not checking you out,” he said through clenched teeth.

I stood about a foot behind him, my dick at attention. “Yeah, you were,” I said. A horn blew outside in the parking lot. A round of male guffaws followed. My wet skin was starting to get chilly. The heater in the room was locked at fifty-five. “I told you I’m not gay.”

“Neither am I,” he said rapidly. Too rapidly.

Yeah, I knew how this was going to go. I had been hiding my bisexuality since I was old enough to like looking at other guys’ packages in the high school locker room. While things were changing for LGBT players, a ton of us were still pretending.

“That’s too bad,” I said, taking a step closer to him. The floor creaked. He sucked in a short breath. His gasp made me smile. “Seems a gay dude and a bi guy in the same room could be honest with each other at the very least.”

That announcement brought the sexy little shit around in a hurry. One dark eyebrow was climbing up his forehead. Those startlingly blue eyes dropped downward. He licked his bottom lip. My cock began to weep.

“You’re bi?”

“Yeah, and right now I would like nothing better than to jack you up against that dresser and kiss you into a state of delirium.”

Dan wet his lips again. Either he was trying to turn me on, which was a wasted effort given how hard my dick was for the man, or it was a nervous tic. Whatever, it was making me crazy. I rolled my hands into fists to keep them from reaching for him.

“Look, stubby, I need a reply here,” I groaned a minute later. Maybe I had misread his signals. Fuck knows I do it often enough with chicks. Guys are usually less confusing, but not always. “If you’re not up for getting laid, speak up now and I’ll go back into the shower, take care of this boner, then pretend this little conversation never took place.”

Another horn blew in the parking lot. Raucous laughter erupted outside our window. The Cougars were bored. Dan reached behind his back to lock the door.
Well. Fuck. Me.
I suddenly felt lightheaded.

“You let me take care of you, okay?” Arou asked.

I nodded, then pounced on him. I slapped my hands to the sides of his head. He moaned as my mouth ground over his. My cock was pressed between us. His ass met the dresser with a hearty shove. An ugly vase with plastic flowers tumbled to the floor. I caressed his lips and teeth with my tongue. His hands roamed inquisitively over my backside. I pumped my erection against his belly. He grabbed both my ass cheeks, roughly. This time it was me who moaned. His tongue darted out to meet mine. I slid a leg between his while plunging into and back out of his tasty mouth, over and over.

His clothes grew damp from my wet skin. I left his mouth to taste his neck. He smelled good. He felt divine. He tasted heavenly. I nipped at his jugular. His fingers trailed up my back, bouncing over the bumps of my spine. A woman’s high-pitched laugh crept through the wall behind us. I began to paw at his pants. Dan grabbed my head, fingers fisted in my wet hair, and held my mouth to a delicate spot right below his ear.

“You need to be naked,” I panted as I dipped my tongue into his ear. He shivered wickedly, then pulled his dress shirt off. Buttons popped and flew across the room. His tie nearly garroted him. A sound of amusement escaped me as I slid the tasteful tie over his head then kissed him again.

Manly tones drifted through the thin walls. The Cougars were not going to be bored for long. A woman giggled at the masculine comments.

Dan threw his belt onto the bed. I shoved his pants down to his ankles. His cock sprang out of his boxers. I drew back to admire him. His prick was thick and nicely veined. It wasn’t as long as mine but he had me in girth. I grabbed his cock by the base, my fingers scrubbing the nest of dark brown curls. His breath grew shaky. I began stroking him. He arched forward, his fingers still tightly wound in my hair. He pulled my hair. I yanked his dick. I covered his mouth with mine. My balls were aching and tight as I rode his hipbone like a horny goat. Knowing full well this was all about getting off, I broke free from the allure of those lips of his, grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. I kicked out his legs as I pushed him over the dresser.

“Jesus, Kalinski,” Dan huffed, “get some fucking lube. In my bag. And a condom.”

He rested his cheek on the bureau. I hated leaving him like that. Fuck, but he was beyond tempting with his legs spread wide for me. I dumped his bag. Shit flew all over the bed and floor. I spied the tube of KY and nearly came right there and then. I tore the wrapper open and soon had myself sheathed. Trying to calm myself, I walked slowly over to him.

A chick yelped in the room beside ours. The sound of sex starting began next door. I had lube dripping between my fingers. I stepped up behind Arou. He whimpered in need, his right hand tugging on his prick. I leaned over him, my slippery cock sliding between his tight ass-cheeks. I lapped at the back of his neck as I teased his puckered little hole with my fingers. He tightened around my fingers when they first slid into him. The man began to slowly lose his mind as I rotated those two digits. He pushed backward to get them deeper.

“You are such a sexy fuck,” I panted, scissoring my fingers. He dropped his forehead to the dresser. His fingers dug into the edge of the bureau. The chick next door began shouting encouragement to our team captain. “Tell me you want me, Arou,” I demanded. “Tell me you fucking need me—this. Need this!”

“Yes, I need you, Vic.”

The fucker just
had
to use my first name, didn’t he? I couldn’t get my cock into him fast enough. He sounded as if he was getting close to reaching his release. I pulled my fingers out then shoved my dick in. Arou made a sound much like the puck bunny on the other side of the wall. I grabbed his hips. My balls were hot and heavy against his. On the other side of the wall, Buttonwood set the rhythm as any good captain should.

I drew out until just the head of me remained inside Dan. Gripping his hips tightly, I thrust back in. Dan was beyond speaking. I fucked him just as hard and fast as Buttonwood was screwing his pick-up. The dresser holding up the winger slammed into the wall at the same time Buttonwood’s headboard did. Dan’s moans and begging entreaties were drowned out by the screams of a woman having one hell of an orgasm.