Page 133 of Over the Line

Temo had roared as he’d thrown himself into the glass behind the net. He’d pumped his stick in the air, and my God, that had been the look of a man who’d finally—finally—cracked through a scoring drought. And with a game-winning short-handed goal, no less.

“Temo isn’t usually on the penalty kill, is he?” I asked.

“Not usually. But with Drizz getting checked out in the locker room and Morris being absolutely gassed after his last shift, Coach sent him out.” Liam grinned. “Good thing, too.”

“No kidding. How is Drizz, anyway?”

“He’s good. Just bruised the shit out of his calf.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, he looked like he was hurting.” I squirmed on my bed. “It always makes me cringe when you guys stop pucks like that.”

Liam laughed with some more enthusiasm. “I mean, it makes me cringe, too. That shit hurts!”

I shuddered. “This sport is for masochists, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I don’t know how many of us like the pain? We just sort of… don’t care about it.”

“Ugh. No thanks. I don’t like pain, and I definitely care about it.”

He chuckled. “I don’t either, but in the moment, I’m too competitive to care.” He paused, and there was some definite heat cracking through the fatigue in his eyes as he said, “And afterward, I’m too horny to care.”

My breath stuttered. “Oh, really?”

“Mmhmm.” He licked his lips. “Especially when I’ve got a man who loves getting drilled, but I can’t actually be with him.”

I squirmed some more, my dick quickly hardening in my shorts. “Do you think they do this on purpose? Scheduling the games so people can’t get fucking laid?”

He laughed. “Sometimes I wonder. The League commissioner went through a nasty divorce a few years ago, so maybe he’s taking it out on all of us.”

“That bastard.”

“I know, right?” His shoulder moved, and I thought he might’ve been adjusting himself. “One more game, though, and them I’m home for a week and a half.”

“Thank fuck,” I breathed. We hadn’t had sex in… God, at least a week and a half. Liam had been on the road with the team for a week, and before that, we just hadn’t been able to find a night to tear up the sheets. Even after the dads’ trip, the calendar hadn’t been kind. Then I’d had to work late to meet a deadline. Liam had been pulled away for some media obligations in between games and practices.

Now he was on the road, and my hand was not getting the job done in his absence.

It was my turn to adjust myself. “I can’t wait until you get home.”

“Neither can I. In fact, I don’t want to.”

I tensed. “What do you mean?”

He drew his tongue across his lips again. “Touch yourself,” he whispered hoarsely. “Let me watch you get off.”

“Touch…” I swallowed. “You want to watch me?” It always made me so damn hot when he wanted that.

“What I want to do is suck your dick until you’re on the verge of tears,” he said. “And then fuck you until we both are. But since I can’t do that…” The telltale motion of his arm and shoulder made my toes curl. “Let me watch.”

I wasn’t about to say no to any of that.

“Hang on.” I put the phone aside so I could strip off my shorts. Then I picked it up again, and I angled it so Liam had the view he wanted.

“Oh my God, yeah,” he purred before I’d even touched myself. “Fuck, I can’t wait…” He trailed off and bit his lip.

When I did start stroking my dick, his arm moved a little slower, as if falling into rhythm with mine.

“Don’t I—” I paused, catching my breath. “Don’t I get to watch you, too?”