Page 76 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

When we finally line up for the puck drop, I don’t let myself look at Beau. I keep my focus on Mercier, right in front of me, and the puck as the ref releases it and it sails down to hit the ice. Maybe my reflexes are extra sharp tonight or maybe Mercier was expecting me to still be playing at half speed, either way, I get to the puck at least a full second before he does. Mercier tries to poke check to get control back, but I’m ready for him, sweeping the puck back out of his reach, shoulder checking him on my drive past him.

Just like he promised, Beau doesn’t go easy on me. He shadows me from the first play, riding my ass up and down the ice. If it was any other D-man in the league, I’d be annoyed as hell, but with Beau it just makes it feel like we’re playing our own game, separate from the one going on all around us. He’s bigger and plays harder, but I’m faster, so I use that as much as I can, sprinting down the ice with the puck more than once, knowing that Bozy can’t quite keep up.

Diego Ferguson manages to clear the puck in the defensive zone a couple of times, and their goalie, Gagnon, is no slouch, but by the end of the second period, I’ve managed to score three goals. Jurowski must’ve lit the right candle on his weird little altar tonight too, because he’s working on another shutout.

Going into the final period, I can’t stop myself from blowing a few taunting kisses to Huskies fans who are booing our three-nothing lead. I get possession of the puck again, stealing it with a sweep check from Dimitrov. Beau bears down on me right away though, forcing me to flip pass it to Peters seconds before Beau slams me into the boards. I’ve messed around with Beau enough during practices and warm-ups over the years to know that he’s not going as hard as he can, but he’s not taking it easy on me either.

The hard press of his body against my back makes my heart thunder harder than it already is and my cock twitch in my cup.

“Copping a feel during the game, Bozy?” I tease in a low voice.

He chuckles, sounding breathless from playing hard, just like I am. “Come see my apartment after the game tonight? I want you to fuck me.”

Fuuuuuck. That’s way more effective at throwing me off my game than any amount of chirping or other bullshit could ever be, because now all I can think about is having Beau naked and panting underneath me, his hot, tight hole clenching around my cock.

I nod “yes”… as if no was even an option, and Beau moves off of me, reminding me that this isn’t foreplay and we still have ten minutes left on the clock. It looks like Peters managed to lose the puck while Beau was flirting with me. Mercier drives it down the center of the ice, but Albert stops him in the neutral zone and takes control, passing to me with a wrist shot.

With Beau still shadowing me and the rest of his team desperate to get just one goal before the buzzer, I manage one last score right through the five-hole. Even with a power play by the Huskies right at the end, the game still ends with a shutout by Jurowski and a whole bunch of pissed-off Huskies fans cursing us from the stands as we skate off the ice.

My heart is pounding and I can’t stop smiling, not just because I finally played a decent fucking game after a month of showing my ass on the ice night after night, but because I’ve still got a few more hours with Beau ahead of me before the countdown clock to when I’ll see him again starts all over.

“Any point in asking if you’re coming out to celebrate with us tonight?” Klaussen asks with a knowing smirk as I hurry through changing out of my gear and into my street clothes without bothering to shower. I’d rather have the excuse to take another shower with Beau at his place.

“Nah, I’ve got plans.”

“Be sure to ask Bozy how his nuts taste after we wiped the ice with them tonight.” Basilio makes a show of grabbing his own junk as he says it.

I bark out a laugh and my stomach swoops with impatience and excitement.

“I’ll be sure to ask him how my nuts taste.” I manage to say it with a straight face, shoving my feet into my shoes and slinging my heavy equipment bag over my shoulder. “Try to have fun without me,” I call on my way out of the locker room.

Whatever the guys decide to get up to tonight to celebrate our win, I’m positive they won’t be having half as much fun as Beau and me.

THIRTY-THREE

BEAU

Trav jogs over to me when he sees me at the end of the tunnel, a huge smile on his face, his hair still matted with sweat.

“You didn’t shower?”

“Nope.” His grin grows wider. “Gonna shower at your place. How did you shower so fast?”

“I was in a hurry. Come on.” As we walk out of the arena, I glance at him. “Did the team say anything about you not going out with them?”

“Nah. They knew I was gonna see you.”

“Cool. Nice work tonight, by the way. And Jurowski is unstoppable. Glad my sacrifice was worth it.”

“Debatable. I fucking hate it, Beau. Even winning doesn’t feel the same if I’m not with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” I reach over and squeeze his shoulder. “Let’s focus on each other for the next few hours, huh?”

“Good plan.”

We throw our stuff in the back of my SUV and get in. I’m a confusing blend of nerves and excitement because of what I asked him for during the game. Does he believe me?

Once I’m on the road, Trav slides his hand up my thigh. “Pretty fucked up what you did.”