I choked on a breath. His grip was perfect—firm, confident, designed to unravel me.
“Look at you,” he breathed, stroking me slowly and deliberately. “So desperate already. Did sucking my cock get you this hard?”
“Théo—”
“Answer me.”
“Yes.” The word came out strangled. “God, yes.”
“Mm.” His thumb swiped over the head, smearing the precum leaking steadily now. “That’s so hot. You’re so hot, daddy.”
The word went straight to my spine. I buried my face in his neck, hips rocking into his fist, completely at his mercy.
“That’s it.” His other hand carded through my hair, a contrast of gentle and filthy. “Take what you need. I’ve got you.”
I was close already—embarrassingly close—wound too tight from touching him, tasting him, watching him come apart on my tongue. I tried to hold back, wanted to make it last, but he twisted his wrist and leaned in to whisper against my ear.
“Come for me, daddy.”
I was gone.
It only took a few more strokes before I came with a groan, spilling over his fingers and onto his stomach. He worked me through it, his touch gentling as I shuddered and gasped against his throat.
We lay there for a long moment, breathing hard, tangled together in the mess we’d made.
Théo started laughing. Not a huff or a chuckle—actual laughter, bright and unguarded in a way I hadn’t heard from him before.
I turned my head toward him and his smile was so radiant I felt my heartbeat stutter. “What’s so funny?”
“You.” He shook his head, still grinning. “The team’s resident saint. Nicest guy in the league. Probably helps old ladies cross the street and volunteers at soup kitchens on his days off.”
“I don’t see how that’s—”
“And you have a daddy kink.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “It’s perfect. It’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Glad I could entertain you,” I said dryly.
“It’s perfect actually.” He rolled onto his side, facing me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Every brat needs a daddy.”
28. Théo
One of the reasons I had picked Chicago—besides the free rent—was to get a fresh start.
Toronto had too many ghosts. Every rink, every café, every street corner held a memory I’d rather forget. I was the worst version of myself there. And everywhere I turned, I was reminded of all the ways I had failed. The weight I couldn’t lose. The jumps I couldn’t land. The people I couldn’t love right.
During my secret relationship with Nico, we would hook up and then I would leave or I would send him on his way. We’d steal hours between training sessions, sneak into each other’s beds after competitions, and then I’d be out the door before the sheets cooled. I told myself it was because we couldn’t risk getting caught—his uncle would have destroyed me—but really, I just didn’t know how to stay.
Nico had been my first real relationship and it was doomed from the start. We were both vying for the top spot on the podium in a sport where individualism and cutthroat behaviour was typical. How could we build a foundation on trust when we were taught to claw each other’s eyes out? Both neurotic about food, counting calories and skipping meals and pretending we didn’t notice when the other pushed dinner around the plate. We enabled each other’s worst impulses and called it understanding.
But Nico did get me to stop cutting. It was hard to explain fresh marks when you were always undressing for the same person. He never made me feel ashamed about the old scars,just held my wrists sometimes and pressed his lips to the faded lines like he could kiss them away. I didn’t deserve that kind of tenderness. I told him as much when I ended things.
My instinct after hooking up with Derek was the same as it had always been.Run, run, run. To put my clothes on and get out before the intimacy settled in. Before he saw too much. Before I ruined it.
But I forced myself to stay.
I watched Derek pull on a pair of clean boxers from his dresser and pad to the kitchen, completely unselfconscious. He’d tossed a pair for me and a Frost hoodie onto the bed. Both were too big for me but I liked wearing his clothes.
He reheated the food from Walsh & Wilde—pasta with chicken and roasted vegetables—and plated it like we were having a normal dinner. Like we hadn’t just had our hands and mouths all over each other ten minutes ago.
