Page 32 of Misconduct Zone

“On a scale of one to ten, you put me in my grave. It was so good.”

“Liar,” Dylon sings with his dimple chiming in.

“I am not capable of lying to you,” I say with sincerity. We don’t care when the water runs cold as we kiss on the shower floor. I swallow his load, feasting on each drop, wishing for an endless supply. Sweets are no longer my obsession—Dylon’s cum is.

After drying him off and bringing him to bed, I’m compelled to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Full of you and sleepy. Ready to hibernate as long as possible. Might turn your bed into a den.” His naked skin skims along my legs, torso, and arms. I drag him on top of me to cover every inch.

Nervously, I clarify. “You liked what we did?”

Dylon props himself up on an elbow and smooths my pinched brow. “I fucking loved it. I loved your dirty talk, the way you were worried about me, the sounds you made when you lost control, and your taste.” His grin turns salacious. “I’ll admit, I was nervous that the hype was a porn thing but I’m obsessed. There’s nothing better than your dick.”

He kisses me, and we don’t stop until the taste of toothpaste is gone and it’s only him.

Chapter 18

Lars

Dylon’s navy-blue suit and lavender shirt accentuate his eyes, making it difficult for me to keep my hands to myself.

“Stop staring at my ass,” he says as we walk through the halls of the arena.

“No one’s staring at your ass.” Ace gives him a tap on the butt, and I see red. Dylon thinks it is hilarious because this is typical between them.

“It’s not my fault this suit fits me like a glove.” He strides a few steps ahead and wiggles his ass. Spankings are in order tonight, but I cannot argue with his statement.

“Conceited?” Benz prances by me and whacks Dylon’s ass so hard he yelps.

“Not before a game,” I yell, holding back my fury that they’re touching my man. Benz is mid eye roll when I say, “Who will explain to Coach why Dylon cannot sit down or worse?”

Benz turns contrite, but I hear Griffin whisper, “Killjoy.”

“That is my middle name,” I fire back at Mason with a smirk to act as if I am teasing. As long as everyone keeps their hands off Dylon, I do not care what they call me.

We have had a five-game winning streak, and we are playing great hockey. We’re hosting Detroit and are ready to avenge our loss.

The only change to our pregame ritual is how we get suited up. Dylon and I face away from each other so our bodies don’t get the wrong signals. No matterwhat my brain thinks, if I see a naked or partially naked Dylon, my dick stands up for duty.

“What’s going on with you?” Ace asks.

“Me?” I glance over my shoulder to confirm he is speaking to me.

“Yeah, you. You’re walking around smiling all the time.” He leans in close. “If you’re in there and an alien has taken over your body, blink twice.”

Obviously, I blink twice.

“Lucky’s sense of humor is rubbing off on you.”

Ace and Coach say a few words before the game, and the crowd is electric when we skate out for warm-ups. New York is a tough city, but when the fans stand behind your team, they bring down the house.

The cheers are deafening when they announce the starting lineup. My heart swells, filling up with their energy and expectations.

We are on fire from the first puck drop. All our passes connect, and each line does their job. Tonight, there is no weak link. Richardson is out with a calf strain, and the team is better without him.

Ace, Dylon, and I are a single unit with three arms. And it’s as fun as playing youth hockey. Dylon’s playing with a wide grin, and we’re chasing the puck as if the other team doesn’t exist. When I skate across the blue line at full speed, Ace is in position ahead of me by the time the puck leaves my stick. He aims with precision and scores.

Ten minutes later, I circle around the crease, and Dylon shoots me a no-look pass that I fire in. We’ve scored twice in the first period, and they’re not on the board as we head into intermission.

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