Page 16 of Pucked-Up Roommate Deal

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he grumbled his words sounding a little garbled from his busted up lip. He’d stripped off his jersey, leaving him in pants and his pads. And there was my name on the bulge of his bicep.

He glanced over at me and I shook my head. “If he messed your pretty face, princess, I’m gonna have to hack in and destroy his credit score.”

The doc working on him just snorted, thinkingprincesswas a joke between us—which, kind of it was, but on the other hand, it was always what I called Porter when I planned to drill him hard.

“His face will be fine,” the doc said. “Nothing broken; no stitches needed. But you should hack in and do it anyway. That attack was bullshit.”

I raised a brow at Porter and he shrugged on of his shoulders—probably because it would hurt too much to do both. He’d been beat up far more tonight than usual. And by that reasoning, I should probably leave him alone tonight. I knew he wouldn’t let me. He’d have too much adrenaline to work off.

“You gotta stay to the end of the game?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“I’m sending him out of here,” the doc said. “I don’t think he’s got a concussion and the idiot refuses to go get scanned, even though he has a contract that clearly states—”

“I know,” Porter interrupted. “Nash knows what to look for. He’ll take me to emergency care. Besides…I’ve had concussions. I knew the signs.”

The doctor finished cleaning him up and checking for injuries while I stood next to the table where Porter sat. Afterward, I waited quietly by the door while Port changed and shoved gear into a bag.

“Ready,” he said.

Shaking my head again, I took the heavy duffel from him, refusing to grunt at the weight. Side by side, we walked out to the care waiting for us. The driver took the duffel with a slightoofthat made me feel better, and Porter and I climbed into the backseat.

In the only true sign of how he really felt, he treaded his fingers through mine and leaned his head on my shoulder.

“Brisson’s an asshole,” he muttered.

“I could tell. What did he say.”

“You don’t want to know. Just allusions to my lifestyle.”

One of those. Thankfully, Porter didn’t run into many who were prejudiced against him, but apparently, Brisson was one ofthose guys.

“Like you said, he’s an asshole. Probably in the closet.”

Porter chuckled, then moaned as something hurt.

“Ice bath or hot tub?” I asked, as the driver pulled into the circle in front of our new house.

“Hot tub. I want you to come in with me.” Angling his head, he kissed along my jaw to my ear. “Naked.”

Fuck, I wanted that. I’d been hard all night while watching him. “You’re sure.”

“I need you.”

I nodded, turning, I kissed him. I poured all my pent up desire into it, letting him know I wanted him just as much, even if I was concerned for his wellbeing. I cupped his cheek, careful of his injuries, then gently pulled back.

“We’re here. Let’s get you taken care of.”

Moments later, we were inside. I dropped his bag on the tile of the entryway, and started stripping off my clothes to catch up with Porter who was already shucking off his pants. Pausing, I drew my knuckles along his side that was covered with bruises that were growing darked as time passed.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I muttered.

Leaning in, Porter pressed his lips quickly to mine. “No, you’re not. This is just a product of my job. Now, come on.”

I finished undressing and followed after him, my cock pointing at exactly what it wanted. He opened the double doors leading to our private patio where the hot tub already bubbled. The autumn chill lifted goose bumps on my skin, but did nothing to cool my need to fuck Porter. And he knew it.

Looking slyly over his shoulder, he bent to open the storage hidden beneath one of the bench seats that circled the tub, purposely angling his ass toward me.

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