Page 31 of Reckless On Ice

Damn, he really thought of everything. My insides are warm and gooey, and I’m feeling too many things for coherent speech. I want to thank him, but the urge to touch him is stronger. I have the most pressing need to show him what he’s done to me.

Before I can think too hard about the impulse, I walk up behind Knox, grab the ends of the dish towel, drawing it across his shoulders and pulling so it bends him toward me, lining his back up against my chest and grinding my cock into his ass. My mouth is perfectly level with his ear as his head rests on my shoulder in this position. His body is coiled tightly, ready to spring, but his hands grip the granite island rather than pull at the towel to get away from me.

“That was really nice of you, Golden Boy. You keep feeding me like this, my dick is gonna get hard every time I see you.” Ipress my hips forward for emphasis, trapping him against the island and showing him my appreciation for the meal he made me.

“Ryder.” Knox gasps, the sound low and full of warning.

“What? You want me to thank you another way? Tell me what you want, Knox,” I rasp, begging him to say it, to tell me he wants me and I’m his type, finally. I pull harder on the ends of the towel, and his hands fly back to grip my hips as his back arches.There it fucking is.He doesn’t want me to stop any more than I do. His touch feels like molten pleasure, burning hot and sending shivers of lust straight to my cock so it jumps against him.

“We can’t,” he says, his voice almost a sob of longing that I feel in my chest. “You don’t…you’re not…”

“I’m not what?” I ask, rolling my hips harder into his fucking amazing ass that taunts me every time I see him. He has me worked up, and I can’t stop the words or what I’m doing. “You don't know what I am, do you? You’ve never asked. But you think you know me so well. You have my character all pinned down. I’m reckless.” I thrust against him, the friction and his ass cheeks somehow the best thing I’ve felt. “I say the first thing that comes to mind.”Thrust.“I’m all action, no thought.”Thrust.“Maybe that’s a good thing, though.”Thrust.“I make things happen.”Thrust.“I get what I want.” I give him one last vicious thrust and swear in his ear as I do something I haven’t since I hit puberty—I come in my pants. I bite down on his neck to stop myself frommoaning through the rest of my orgasm that doesn’t seem to want to end.

“Fuck,” Knox grunts, pressing back into me harder.

My cock jerks against his ass as I spill into my shorts in hot bursts, quickly soaking through the thin material. Saliva pools in my mouth around the spot on his neck I don’t want to let go of. He tastes amazing. The woodsy and vanilla notes of his cologne, with the slight saltiness of his skin, are something I want to lick off the rest of his body with painstaking care. I’m experiencing too much pleasure to be embarrassed or have a thought beyond wanting to do that again without our clothes in the way. What would it be like to fuck Knox, for real? I’ve never touched a man sexually, other than what I’ve done to tease Knox, but I’ve fucked enough asses to know I love anal, and the idea of bending this big, muscular man over and taking him is becoming far too appealing. I release Knox’s neck and lick the imprints my teeth made in his skin, liking the mark a little too much.

Yeah, this is bad,is the first rational thought that stumbles back into my awareness. I release the dish towel, my hands falling away from Knox’s broad shoulders almost reverently. The shaky steps I take back from him feel leaden, my feet cemented in place as my body fights to stay right the fuck there against him. My chest heaves from the force of coming like a damn geyser. It’s like the idea of rubbing up against Knox squeezed my balls dry.

“I don’t…” I start, not sure how to explain what the fuck that was.

Knox leans over the island, his back rising and falling with his breaths. “I know. You just did what you always do. You acted without thought, and now you don't know how to handle the aftermath,” he says, the words low, harsh, and strangled. “I wouldn't expect anything else.”

“Did I…” I have to pause to swallow down the terror rising in my throat. “…hurt you?” I ask, afraid of the answer. Did I pull the towel too tightly? Push him too hard against the island? Did I take too much from him? Oh fuck, does he hate me now?

Knox turns slowly until he’s facing me. His eyes are bright, and red stains his cheeks. He looks embarrassed and he’s pressing a fist into his incredibly hard dick, but he doesn't look injured. “I’m fine, Ryder. Let it go. I know you were just getting under my skin, and it didn’t mean anything to you.”

Did it mean something to me?Well, yeah, it fucking did, but how do I tell him that I don't even understand what it was? “That’s not…I mean…come on, Golden Boy,” I say, defaulting to easy humor to diffuse the tension. “I wanted to show my appreciation for you making my favorite pre-game meal. It means a lot that you would cook for me. Thanks, bro.”

Knox’s face locks down. His eyes narrow, brows coming together, and mouth setting in a harsh line flattening those beautiful lips that steal my attention far too easily. “You don't get tobrome when your cum is still warm against the back of my shorts because you got off, humping my ass like an errant dog. That’s not how you show appreciation. If youreally appreciated what I did, you would have been on your knees making sure I got off.” He shakes his head. “Enjoy your meal, I’m going to change.”

He turns and storms out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with cum splashed down my shorts and cheeks that match the red dish towel I had around Knox’s neck just moments before, because now all I can think about is getting on my knees and sucking Knox off.

Seventeen

Knox

Islip into the owner’s box following Harlowe and her brood of children, carrying her three-year-old, Hana. I almost canceled after the thing with Ryder in the kitchen, but Harlowe doesn’t take last-minute changes well, and I don't like letting people down.

“Axel, I swear to God, if you throw that cup over the railing, you will be in timeout the rest of the game,” Harlowe says, following her toddler son to the outer seating area and pulling a sippy cup from his hand before he can launch it into the crowd below. I set Hana down and she runs to play with her toys in a corner of the suite.

“Give me the baby. Your hands are full with thewarmonger,” I say, holding my hands out for Everly, Harlowe’s youngest. She gratefully passes the one-year-old girl my way, and I prop the easiest baby in the world in my arms. “Hey, little love, I missed you,” I coo to her to get a smile. She giggles and tucks her head into my neck in the cutest way. Damn, I love babies so much. I’ve held Harlowe’s three youngest like this and it never gets old.

“The Hydras have won six of their ten games,” Hendricks tells me. “But don’t worry, they play eighty-two games, so they have a lot of time to make it up.” This kid is way too smart at seven, but he’s always been that way. At four, he was explaining math concepts to me.

“Good to know,” I say.

“You only play twenty games in football, if you include preseason,” he points out, looking at me like he’s disappointed. “Hockey players are tougher than football players.”

“That’s rough, little man. I thought we were friends,” I say, ruffling his hair and pushing him toward our seats. He blinks his serious gray eyes at me before laughing and running for his seat with Hana and Axel.

“Lolo, your kid is roasting me. I don’t want to play anymore,” I tell her with a laugh, checking out the plush seats on the balcony portion of the owner’s box overlooking Olympus Arena.

“What can I say? I trained him well,” she quips, bringing a tray of chicken tenders and fries out with her. In a quiet,conspiratorial voice she says to me, “I cook gourmet shit from scratch every day, and my kids go crazy for the damn concessions stand chicken strips and fries.”

“Ah, your life is so hard,” I tease, taking the tray and passing out the baskets to Hendricks and Hana before cautiously giving Axel a basket. I anticipate the hellion immediately throwing it, so I catch the basket and preserve his dinner before handing it back to him. “I know you want to eat these, you silly goose. Don’t throw food, please.” I pop a fry in his laughing mouth, and he munches happily, taking the basket from me and holding it this time.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to come with me tonight. Zander had to fly to New York at the last minute with the boys for work, and I told the nanny she could have the night off. I’d already committed to showing up, and I did not want to do all four kids on my own.” Harlowe looks meaningfully at Axel. She could easily handle Hendricks, Hana, and Everly, but Axel on his own is hard enough, let alone putting him with the others.

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