Page 32 of The Price of Ice

Kallen’s dick throbbed, and he put a hand on himself, just a squeeze really, and didn’t look away.

“Hey!” Levy wasn’t as distracted as he appeared because he opened his eyes fully to glare at him, “I can’t see like that.”

Kallen laughed, and tilted his pelvis, spreading in a way he hoped would show everything between his legs—from his shaven sack to his hole, already a little wet even.

Levy cursed on the screen, fingers clenching hard around the base of his cock. “God,” he lamented, and then, just like that, he was pulling hard, shoving his reddened erection through his fingers fast and brutal.

Kallen’s own hand mirrored the movement, but it was too dry. Of course, as an omega, that was hardly a problem. He simply reached down and rubbed at his hole, groaning as his fingers dipped into the wetness there.

“Fuckkk,” Levy hissed, and his eyes were open, hazel practically all gone. The moment their eyes met, Kallen saw them widen as Levy’s whole body seized and shot pearly strips of come all over his belly and chest. Kallen’s hand was back on his own cock, but he squeezed instead of jerking it, too fascinated to look away.

Levy looked positively pornographic.

His eyes were closed, his chest heaving, and he was a mess Kallen wanted to lick from pelvis to mouth, clean him up and swallow every drop.

Shifting his hand over his own cock was unconscious, but once he started spreading his own slick all over himself, he couldn’t stop. He’d hardly touched himself, but he was more than halfway there from the show, and the sounds he was making as he wanked, obscenely loud in the empty hotel room, were making him flush and squirm.

Then Levy opened his eyes again and fixed his gaze right on his crotch. “God, I want to swallow youwhole,” he told Kallen in a rough whisper. And it was nearly as good as when he’d actually done it.

Kallen whimpered, speeding up and scrunching his own eyes shut, turning his face to the side as if he could hide anything when he was broadcasting this in full technicolour.

“Look at me.” The words were gentle, closer to desperate than demanding.

And Kallen didn’t hesitate to obey them.

“You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Levy told him, intense and true and not even blinking, and Kallen erupted all over his own hand. He closed his eyes on reflex, stripping himself to keep going, but he managed to open them again with a struggle, wanting...

Levy was still looking at him, biting his bottom lip and leaning forward a little like he was about to make a leap for the screen.

Kallen’s orgasm seemed to rise again under the attention, but it fizzled off in the end, leaving him a panting mess, head still turned to the side to keep the phone in his line of sight.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Levy told him after a few minutes. “You have an early morning.”

“Wait!” Kallen stopped, not sure what he wanted. Only... “Give me a minute, just...”

He didn’t specify, but Levy made a noise of agreement, then huffed as he got up on the other side of the connection.

Once they were both as clean as they were going to get without a shower, Kallen set the phone on the opposite pillow, blinking his eyes open for a last look. “G’night,” he mumbled, and Levy’s answer was soft and fond in turn.

“Sleep well, Kallen, and slay them for me tomorrow.”

He was almost too knackered to laugh, but he managed a little huff before the call disconnected.

Chapter 13

His heat was two days late this time around, which might have freaked him out a bit if he hadn’t been utterly focused on winning. He’d managed a goal in every single game in the series, even the one they’d lost, and by game four it felt like if he managed it again, it’d become a thing.

Ironically, he started to feel a little warm during warm-ups. He could have talked to the coach and asked to be excused. But fuck that, he thought, and drowned a bottle of water and another of that awful electrolyte drink, then focused on stretching instead.

First period passed quickly, mostly because he only got about five minutes of play time, but the action on the ice was anything but boring. The Cats were struggling to score. Even though they were playing well, everything seemed to fall apart at the goal. The Vulture's goalie was something else, with eyebrows you could see across the ice that gave him a brooding expression and moving way too fast for his position. He also, Kallen noted thanks to his teammates repeated attempts to score, had a tell.

He contemplated telling Hirst about it when he came to the bench to drink between shifts, but the alternate captain moved out of range too quickly. Kallen wasn't sure how he'd take the insight from a rookie, anyway. But if he could prove it...

And prove it he did, Coach Weller sent him onto the ice with O'Malley and Trey, centring the line in a way that made Kallen burn for victory. It wasn't better or worse, but it washis place, he'd always felt better with two players at his wings. And maybeit was that or maybe it washeat, not a hindrance yet but adding an undeniable sense of urgency to his movements. The moment came upon him like a dream, O'Malley passing him the puck, twisting at just the right angle to target the middle left he'd seen the opposing goalie favouring, and then shooting high instead.

The puck hit the side of the goal, but on theinside,and before he knew it, Kallen found himself overwhelmed with bodies. A sweaty group embrace combined with delighted shouting that left him a little unsteady afterwards, but glowing with pride.

It put them one point ahead, and when the shift ended, he found enough breath to share his discovery with O'Malley, sitting next to him on the bench and vibrating with excitement. The alpha patted him roughly on the back. "Fucking lit observation skills, man!"

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