“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Tane said, his eyes alive to the moment.
A soft, startled giggle escaped Jacob before he could swallow it, high and giddy and a little reckless. He ducked his head against Tane’s shoulder for a second to muffle it, then slid his hand back down.
This time there was no hesitation.
Jacob worked his Captain slow and deliberate, thumb circling the head through the cotton on every upstroke, feeling the fabric grow damp. Tane’s breathing deepened, still controlled but with tiny hitches when Jacob squeezed just right.
The hand on Jacob’s thigh tightened, fingers digging in like a silent warning, yet Tane made no move to stop him.
Under the blanket, Jacob adjusted his angle for better leverage. His own cock was hard now, pressed uncomfortably against his joggers, but this wasn’t about him.
Tonight was gratitude—and a quiet, filthy, secret.
Tane tilted his head back against the seat, eyes half-shut, still pretending to watch the replay. But Jacob felt every twitch, every throb. When he dragged his thumbnail lightly along the underside, Tane let out the softest grunt. It was barely audible, swallowed by the cabin hum, but Jacob knew.
Jacob grinned into Tane’s neck. “Ssshhh, Captain,” Jacob whispered. “People are sleeping.”
Tane shot him another look—half murder, half helpless affection—then closed his eyes and let his head fall fully back. His hips rocked once, small and involuntary, chasing the rhythm of Jacob’s hand. Jacob twisted on the next upstroke,slick now from how much Tane was leaking, and felt him swell thicker still.
Tane was silent, rigid, every muscle locked as hot pulses spilled over Jacob’s fingers and soaked into the fabric. Jacob stroked him through it until the end, slow and careful, until Tane finally exhaled, long and shaky, and went lax against the seat.
For a minute they simply breathed together.
Tane’s hand found Jacob’s under the blanket, lacing their fingers—sticky, warm, unapologetic.
Then Tane leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Jacob’s ear.
“When we land,” Tane murmured, voice rough, “You’re getting yours. And you’re gonna be loud enough the neighbors file a complaint.”
Jacob shivered, a fresh wave of heat rolling through him. “Promise?”
“Boy,” Tane said, squeezing his hand once, hard. “That’s a fucking guarantee.”
Jacob settled against him, head dropping to Tane’s shoulder, the blanket still hiding the mess they’d made. The plane began its gentle descent; city lights flickered into view below like scattered stars.
They were going home 1-0.
And tomorrow morning, when the rest of the world was still asleep, Tane Rivers was going to make good on every word…
Chapter 21
Tane
One more game.
One more game and the Stormers were toast. After taking the first match in the series convincingly, the Enforcers grew in confidence. Tane might not have been back to his best yet, but he could see that the team was doing well in his absence. He’d never liked the Stormers either, so to finish them off at home would be the perfect.
The arena hummed with pre-game electricity. Twenty thousand seats filled steadily, the home crowd already buzzing in electric blue and silver, waving flags and chanting the Enforcers fight song.
Warm-ups were in full swing: pucks cracking against boards, skates carving sharp turns, goalies thumping pads in rhythm.
Tane glided through the familiar patterns… edge work, quick stops, wrist shots from the slot. But every motion sent a fresh twinge through his right shoulder, sharp and hot, like someone had jammed a knitting needle under the joint.
It wasn’t good.
And to make matters worse, he hadn’t told anyone.
The niggle had started that morning during—nothing dramatic, just a dull ache when he pressed into a push-up. By the time he taped his stick for warm-ups it had sharpened into something insistent.
