Page 32 of Shattered On Ice

“Braced for impact.” I shift my weight, turning slightly so I can look down at his face. “You do it whenever Rook’s hockey friends come up. And when we first started this, you looked at me…you looked at me like I was a live grenade. Even when you set those rules about ending things cleanly, you looked at me like you fully expected me to turn on you.” I lower my voice to a probing, gentle rumble, not wanting to spook him further. “Who made you feel like you had to negotiate a safe exit before we even started, mon ange?”

Knight lets out a long, shaky exhale. He tries to pull back, to rebuild that clinical shell he wears so well. “It’s just a pattern recognition thing, Wes. Self-preservation.”

“Don’t ‘Doc’ me now,” I say softly, refusing to let him retreat. “I’m not a patient. I’m the guy who’s crazy about you. Tell me who taught you to be terrified of my world.”

He stares at the TV screen for a long moment, realizing the therapist mask won't work on me. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw and stripped of its usual authority.

“His name was Aaron. He played on Rook’s team in high school.” Knight swallows hard, his thumb rubbing anxiously against mine. “He was closeted, and terrified of the locker room culture. I was out, so he started DMing me, looking for a safe space to vent. We talked for months. It turned into flirting, then sexting,” he says, voice monotone. “I thought we had this incredible, genuine connection.”

My jaw tightens. I can already anticipate the drop, the sickening twist of the knife. “What. Happened.” My voice comes out rough through clenched teeth.

“We finally met up. Consensually. It was great…until the shame hit him a week later.” Knight’s voice cracks, the clinical distance completely gone. “The paranoia that someone would find out ate him alive. He told Rook and the rest of the team that I was a…” He pauses and swallows hard. “…a predator. He said I’d been harassing him for months, sending unsolicited pictures, and that I forced myself on him.” He ducks his face into my chest and takes a shuddering breath full of shame.

My entire body goes rigid. The blood in my veins boils over into white-hot rage. My breathing turns sharp and heavy, a low growl building in my chest as I wrap my arms tighter around Knight.

“He called what we did dirty,” Knight whispers. “He made me the monster so he could remain the loved hockey prodigy.” He chokes back a breathless sob. It takes him a minute to collect himself as I hold him. “And the worst part? Rook believed him. My own twin thought I was a predator using him to get to his friends. It took months before Rook would even let me show him the actual message logs to prove Aaron initiated it. That Aaron came to me.”

I attempt to swallow down my rage. I can't offer him empty platitudes. I know exactly what locker room toxicity looks like, and I know exactly what kind of coward it takes to weaponize it against someone innocent. “You better hope I never cross paths with him,” I warn, my voice lethal, vibrating with barely contained fury. “I will destroy him. I’ll tear him apart into a million pieces.”

Knight startles at the ferocity of my words. He lets out a wet, breathless laugh. “Wes—”

“I mean it, Knight. He’s a fucking coward.” I shift, cupping his face in my massive, callused hands—hands that are probably a lot like this fucker he's speaking of—forcing him to look me in the eyes. “He took something beautiful that you allowed him to have and weaponized it because he was too weak to own his truth. I’m in the closet because I’m trying to survive this league. But I will never make you my scapegoat. I would bite my own tongue off before I ever let anyone think you were a secret to be ashamed of.”

Tears finally spill over his lashes, tracking down his cheeks and wetting my thumbs. “It’s why I was so scared at first. You're everything Aaron was—the big, closeted hockey player with everything to lose. I didn't think I could survive another one of you deciding I was a mistake.”

I lean down, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss to his forehead, then to his lips, sealing the promise into his skin. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, baby. But I’ve never considered you one. You're the only real thing I have.”

He exhales a shuddering breath, the last of his walls crumbling, and buries his face in my neck. I hold him through the rest of the movie, letting the quiet domesticity of my bedroom and the easy laughs of the movie replace the ghosts of his past. When the credits finally roll, I press a kiss against his messy hair.

“Now you really need to sleep. Don't mind my cock if it pokes you in the middle of the night. I have no control over him. It happens a lot when you're around.”

He laughs, the sound much lighter now as he turns and backs into me, his ass nestling against my crotch as he takes the little spoon position. He grabs the arm I have stretched out under him and wraps it around his chest. “I’m quite fond of him, too.” He wiggles his hips, grinding against me, and we both let out soft laughs to cover for the lust that action brings.

I’m proud of myself for being good all night. I enjoy getting to hold Knight in my arms and revel in the fact that he stayed, that he trusted me with his truth, and we’ll wake up next to each other for once. I sleep lightly, so my eyes pop open every time he moves, but I remain still, enjoying that he wants me as his pillow when he turns over and puts his head on my chest, wrapping an arm and leg over me.

His cock begins to stir against my hip sometime in the middle of the night. I’m not much better. I’ve been painfully hard since he threw that toned thigh over mine. It was inevitable when we went to bed naked that something like this would happen. I should let him sleep, but when he moans and bites my shoulder, I know he’s not thinking about rest anymore, either.

I roll toward him, slipping a hand between us and wrapping it around both our cocks. Feeling his silky warmth against me like this is new. We’ve kept it strictly from behind, never venturing into other positions because that seems to work so well for us. But seeing his face as I begin to stroke us together unlocks a possessive need to always take him like this. His hips flex, pushing into my hand, and we both groan. Watching his face contort with pleasure is my new favorite thing.

“I want to fuck you like this,” I whisper into the dark between us, the ambient light seeping through the curtains the only illumination that lets me see his eyes are open, glittering with need.

“Why aren't you?” he taunts, stilling my hand with his and slinging his leg over my hip. I roll to my back, and he climbs on top of me, rolling his hips over my cock until I groan.

“Ride me, beautiful,” I beg, the need in my voice clear as I thrust my hips up, cock sliding against his ass.

“Westin, you feel so good,” he murmurs, reaching back and holding my cock upright as he lifts on his knees and notches me at his hole.

Without lube, this will be a little difficult. Before I can offer to get some, he holds his palm up to my mouth. Gratefully, I spit in it. He wraps his wet hand around me, pumping twice before he begins to lower onto my cock.

“Tabarnak,” I curse, watching as I slip inside him inch by inch until bottoming out.

He leans forward, pressing his hands into my pecs and rolling my nipples as he begins to rock on top of me. His fingers send bolts of electricity lighting up every nerve ending as I groan from pleasure. It’s even warmer than usual, and he feels insanely good. I have to distract myself by counting the freckles dotting his chest so I don't lose it.

“Just like that, baby,” I encourage as he rolls his hips, taking my length in a devastating, perfectly fluid motion that has me biting my lip.

“You’re so deep,” he moans, increasing his pace as his ass bounces over me. I grip his waist with one hand and pull him down hard. My other hand circles his straining cock as I run my thumb over the precum at his slit, making him gasp. I slowly jack him as he rides me, loving this access and how I can see everything. It sends my release racing to the brink as I shudder below him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” I growl, increasing the pace as I stroke him. There’s no describing the incredible way he feels, squeezing my cock with every thrust.