Page 28 of The Price of Ice

He didn’t really know what to do with any of it. He simply couldn’t bear to miss it, this chance the gods themselves must have sent him. He uncovered his crotch, where his erection had flagged a little with nerves, and placed his hand on the cushion next to him. The next touch came on his ankles, still covered by his jeans. “Can I take this off? So you can move?”

Words were beyond him, so he kicked a little to indicate his assent. Levy put his other hand carefully on Kallen’s leg and dragged down, a firm stroke down his calves until he was completely bare from the hips down. And it was weird to be so exposed. He reminded himself that Levy had seen him naked before, he’d even— But he shoved that thought away, suddenly protective of this. He didn’t want the past or the future to get in the way of this moment, he was well aware it was precious andunique, and he didn’t get to keep it. But fuck it if he was going towaste it.

Levy’s hands came up in a firm caress, and that was enough to make Kallen speak, “Your elbow...”

The alpha’s mouth twisted, but he nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be good.”

Kallen narrowed his eyes at him, he knew that tone. “Put it behind you.”

Levy’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s kinky,” he teased, and Kallen gave him the flat look such a lame joke deserved. “Okay, okay, you’re the boss. But I can’t put it behind, it’ll pull. Won’t use it, though.” This time when he licked his lips very slowly, Kallen could be sure it was for show, but it didn’t stop his cock from twitching and drawing the other man’s attention. “Put your hand on my shoulder,” Levy instructed, and it took Kallen an embarrassingly long time to understand he was meant to keep Levy’s weak arm down.

And then Levy’s right hand was encircling the base of his erection, dark with blood and a little damp at the top where he’d begun leaking. He glanced up at Kallen once more before he leaned in and kissed the side of it, a soft brush of lips followed by a little lick that made Kallen exhale the breath he’d unconsciously been holding all at once. He couldn’t recall ever being this sensitive. But no one had ever made him wait for sex before, it was normally— Levy sucked on the head and Kallen jerked in place, hand clutching at the shoulder he was holding, hips only held down by Levy’s hand.

“Sorry!” he said at once, freezing in horror. Having been on the other side of this equation, he knew how painful it could be.

But Levy shook his head. “No, I... You’re really hot for it.” He sounded pleased.

For you, Kallen thought but managed to bite back. Levy helpfully gave his cock a long pull upwards, making him shudderand whimper, his own free hand digging into the cushions. The second time Levy put his mouth on the head of Kallen’s cock, he at least knew what to expect. It still took all of his willpower to stay in place for it, a soft suck and then another a little deeper into the heat of Levy’s mouth. He kept his eyes clenched shut, certain that if he even glanced down, it’d be all over, this torturous ecstasy, holding back when he wanted to give everything, surrender every cell of his self.

Levy must not have been all that concerned because he sucked harder at the same time as he pulled with his hand and Kallen inhaled sharply, or tried to, voice breaking midway as he started coming. Just like that, a whole body slapshot, and Levy justkept on sucking. Not just sucking, butswallowing, his throat squeezing the head of Kallen’s cock every time he bottomed out, demanding everything he had, everything hewas.

Time had malfunctioned at some point, and so had all his senses because what brought him back was Levy biting into his inner thigh, sharp and powerful, and muffling a scream as he bent over, shaking. The scent of come hit him with a renewed bolt of lust that actually hurt as his cock made a valiant effort to rise again.

Levy had just... Kallen couldn’t look away from him, but he couldn’t seem to do much else either, not even when his friend raised his head and looked up at him, pupils still blown, lips properly swollen now.Fuck, his lips. That helped, he slid forward, off the sofa and right onto Levy’s lap. It left them trapped between the sofa and the coffee table, but it meant they were pressed together and that Kallen could bend his head a little and find Levy’s mouth with his own. Levy whimpered under him, squirming, but lifted his face into the kiss, wet and clumsy, too desperate for finesse.

If it hadn’t been for the awkward location, they might have kept kissing forever. But Levy put a hand on his chest to makesome space after a few minutes, mouth twisting to the side in a grimace of pain. “My leg’s asleep,” he admitted, and Kallen scrambled off his lap, barely avoiding running into the coffee table before catching himself.

“Sorry,” he said, licking his lips, suddenly aware that he was half naked.

Levy laughed at him, already turning to the side to drag himself to his feet with his good hand and kicking the air with his left leg. He dropped himself on the sofa like he was sitting down on a throne.

“Points for enthusiasm,” he told Kallen. “But maybe let’s choose a more comfortable place next time.”

Chapter 12

It would have been easier if his father had been an arsehole. But he wasn’t, he was just a guy. A guy who made great pancakes and put way more cheese on pizza that was healthy and woke them up singing for school every morning. A guy who loved hockey with all his soul.

Who’d shared that love with Kallen.

And he’d spent Kallen’s entire childhood pretending being an omega was irrelevant. Kallen had believed him, of course. He’d wanted to believe him more than anything and if his dad said something was true, then it had to be, right?

He wasn’t sure how long he could have kept living in that make-believe world, but the thing about his dad’s delusion was that it led him to sign all his kids up for hockey. He’d loved it since he’d been a child himself and even though his knee wouldn’t have held up in the Premier League, he was still good enough that he was sought after as a coach. And the truth was that Kallen was grateful for it all, that he’d loved it and to share it with his sons. He also would have bet his right hand that his dad hadn’t for a moment considered what the sport would be like for two betas and an omega.

His brothers had got the message that they wouldn’t make it far since there were about three beta players in the whole of the Premier Hockey League, but Kallen had stood out for his talent even at nine. So Paul had quit at fourteen and Mikey at fifteen and it’d been fine. They’d still come to his games and helped him practise shots at the end of the cul-de-sac nearest to their house.

If his coach treated him differently, it’d seemed only natural when he was by far the best player in the team. He’d tried not to let it go to his head, and at twelve he’d get more goals but no more minutes than anyone else, so his teammates could more or less pretend he wasn’t such a big deal.

His father wouldn’t pretend, though, always happy to praise him even as he pushed him to keep sharpening his skills. Paul and Mikey must have felt that, he thought now. But maybe they felt protective of him because they’d never given any sign that they were jealous of all the time their father spent with Kallen. And Kallen had soaked up every minute of it like it was sunlight, almost better than hockey itself.

And then his father had missed a game for work and someone on the opposite team had called Kallen a ‘come dumpster’. He’d been so shocked that he’d let them take the puck from him, and Coach had had to shout at him to move. They’d lost the game, and sitting on the bench watching the rest of his team fail to score, he’d known it was his fault.

He’d showered and got dressed in his lucky hoodie and tried to put it out of his mind, but by the time his teammate’s mum had dropped him off at home, he’d been a mess.

His mother had held him as he cried, rocking him like he was a baby, but she hadn’t managed to make him tell her what had happened. Only when his dad had got home and asked her to let them have a moment, had Kallen being able to admit to the slur. His face had been burning and he’d felt like he was seconds away from throwing up from shame. All he’d wanted was for his dad to tell him it wasn’t true. He had kept his eyes on the ground, as if part of him had sensed the danger that lurked on his father’s face.

He'd known it was true, he’d been a die-hard fan of the Hawks for years and it was impossible not to pick up that his favourite player, their omega goalie, was regularly absent.They’d taught them about heats in school and how omegas bodies worked, and he’d heard and read the comments people made about Nikki Trums and his alpha teammates. The previous season, there had been huge congratulatory signs in the back of the stadium when Nikki had had a baby for their team captain.

He’dknown.

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