Page 138 of No Contest
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
He kissed me.
It was slow and unhurried, full of the taste of the Gatorade he'd drunk during practice. His beard scraped my jaw, and when he pulled back slightly, we were both grinning like idiots.
"This is a terrible idea," I said against his mouth.
"Probably."
"Anyone could walk in."
"They won't." He kissed me again, deeper this time. "Margaret left. Juno's gone. It's only us."
My skate slipped slightly on a rough patch of ice. Hog steadied me immediately, one hand on my waist, solid and sure.
"I've got you," he murmured.
We'd been building toward this moment since New Year's Eve. It was the faith that he'd be there when I lost my footing.
And he'd let me do the same for him.
"Locker room," I said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
We stumbled off the ice together, unlacing skates with shaking fingers. The locker room was warm compared to the rink, with jerseys hanging from hooks like ghosts watching us.
Hog pushed me against the cinderblock wall between two stalls, mouth hot on my neck, hands working the zipper of my jacket.
"We're doing this here?" My voice was hoarse.
"Unless you have objections." He pulled back to look at me, eyes dark and serious despite the grin. "Do you?"
I yanked him back in for an answer.
The wall was cold against my shoulders even through my shirt. Hog was warm everywhere else—his chest pressed against mine, with a thigh between my legs, and his hands sliding under my shirt to touch bare skin.
I gasped when his palm flattened over my ribs, fingers spreading wide.
"Cold hands," he said, not apologetic at all.
"I noticed."
He laughed against my throat, then bit down gently on the tendon there. When he dropped to his knees, I threaded my fingers through his hair and tried to remember how to breathe.
Time stopped meaning anything somewhere between Hog's mouth on me and the moment I pulled him back up, switching positions so he was the one against the wall. His laugh turned into a groan when I gripped the outline of his cock, stroking him through his athletic pants until he was shaking.
"Rhett—"
"I've got you," I said, echoing his words from the ice.
When he came, it was with his face buried in my neck, teeth scraping my shoulder, and my name half-swallowed against my skin.
We stood there after, breathing hard, holding each other up. Hog pulled back first, grinning a stupid grin.
