Page 92 of Gross Misconduct

“Aside from Des’s shoulder, we’re in great shape. All of these lead-up games have been great practice.” Griffin kisses down my chest, nuzzling his beard against my abs.

“Have you worked with Hank on his positioning in goal?”

“What?”

I lift myself so I can unzip his pants. His underwear-wrapped cock shoots out. He sits me back on top of it, teasing me with the thin cotton layer separating his dick from my ass.

I bounce against his thickness, praying that his underwear rips and he can plunge inside me.

“Hank’s angle is off when he tracks a puck. He’s going for ninety degrees, but he winds up like eighty degrees. And he could move a little farther out from the goal to better cut the angle and improve coverage.”

“He stands square to the puck.” Griffin pulls me against his chest. He yanks his boxers off and thwacks his bare, hot cock against my hole. “It’s better than standing at ninety.”

“It’s not. Ninety gives you more flexibility to pivot.” I nibble at his ear, fantasizing about getting impaled on his thickness. Being in his arms instantly throws me to the brink of orgasm. “Hank is jerking around a lot in goal. Standing at ninety would let him be faster to block pucks.”

“Well, since we’re giving advice, your boy Miller is too fancy with his stick handling. Likes to show off. Makes it easy to strip the puck from him.”

Looking back, I can see his point. Miller can too often be a target of steals, and now I get why.

“I’ll let him know. You know what’s great about my couch also being my bed?” I press my forehead against his and gaze into his heavy-lidded eyes. “The lube is close by.”

I reach a hand to the side table and fish around for the lube in the drawer. I throw it against his chest, a silent plea to fuck me as fast as he can.

“Do you have any other tips for my teammates, or can I fuck the shit of you now?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. He lifts us up from the couch and presses me up against the window, the cold of the glass stinging my back. I hug my body against his big torso as his tongue ravages my mouth.

“I want you so bad, Griffin.”

“That’s fucking obvious.” His greedy finger circles my hole, making my body clench with dizzying anticipation. “I’ve only had sex with a guy once. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

I want this man to stretch me out like the collar of his favorite T-shirt.

He unlocks my legs from his waist and puts me down, then spins me around. He presses my face against the glass. I jut my ass out, wanting him to take me from behind.

“Eat my hole and then fuck me until I scream.”

“You got it.”

I close my eyes, fully embracing this heaven-sent moment. I heard if you close your eyes during sex, then it heightens your other senses. Yet I don’t feel him spread me open or flick his tongue on my hole. In fact, he hasn’t moved at all.

“What is it?” I open my eyes and crane my head back at him.

Panic takes over his right eye as he stares out the window. I follow his eyeline to the parking lot, and all at once, my body goes numb.

A man in a heavy coat glares daggers at us, his familiar scowl even more venomous. A purple apron is bunched in his fist.

30

JACK

Irace to my closet and find the first available pair of pants. Usually I’m not one for freeballing it, but there’s no time. I need to catch Dad before he drives off.

I thank the construction gods for making the windows taller than usual. Dad could only see chest up. So yeah, what a relief that he didn’t see me getting my ass tongued. But he still saw Griffin standing behind me, shirtless.

Speaking of shirtless Griffin, he’s already dressed by the time I return to the couch. Bless him for getting the severity of the situation.

“You’re fast,” I note.

“When you have little kids, you don’t get much time to yourself to get dressed in the morning, so you need to be quick.”

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