His eyes widen. “What was that for?”
“You were going to say something romantic.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Well. Maybe not. But you could be fucking me.”
Heat blazes in Vinnie’s eyes. “Yeah. Maybe we can try that.”
I don’t wait for him to maneuver me. Instead, I scramble onto all fours.
“Do you have lube?” he asks.
“I wasn’t planning for this to happen. It’s never happened before.”
I glance at the phone. We could call reception, but I don’t want the story of us coming out be because some hotel receptionist decided to tell some online gossip account that we’re making the hotel staff bring us sexual supplies.
“You probably have some lotion in the bathroom.” Vinnie scrambles from the bed and reappears soon with a bottle of some French-sounding brand with the requisite clear liquid.
He hesitates. “I’m clean. I haven’t been with someone since I last got tested—”
“I trust you,” I say. “Same.”
He nods, then crawls onto the bed. He pulls me up again, and I feel the heat of his arms, the brush of his hairs as they rub against my body. He moves his cock along my crack, and I tremble at the feel of it pulsing, at the feel of it leaking. “Like this?”
“So much. Put it in.”
He laughs.
His fingers, now cold and slick with that same French-sounding lotion, find my bottom. He traces his fingers along my crack, and longing rushes through me. Then he delves a slick finger in, hitting nerve endings I was unaware I had, but that now seem the most incredible thing in the world. He moves his finger, awakening my body. I thrust my bottom up, pretty sure I’m acting shamelessly, but not caring in the latest.
I was supposed to be lying in my bed, flicking through the tv channels to find something to distract me, but probably settling on the news, filling the bedroom with somber tales streamed in flickering bright colors, while I tried to ignore the ache in my chest and the awkwardness of our encounter in the parking lot.
I wasn’t supposed to be happy. I wasn’t supposed to be joyous. But now I am, and I can’t stop the bubbly feeling surging within me. Vinnie’s lips are on my back, and I should probably remind him that hickeys are a thing.
Vinnie slides another finger in. God, we’re going to have sex. We’re going to be joined in the way two people can be.
“Just get in,” I say.
“Okay.” Vinnie hesitates. Now even his fingers aren’t playing in my bottom. “But if it hurts, we stop. And I don’t hold it against you.”
“I’m a hockey player. I’m used to things hurting.”
“That’s not what I want!”
I swallow my smile. “Give me a kiss.”
Vinnie lunges for my lips, and yeah, it’s good, because somehow, we really can kiss. Our tongues and lips know what to do in each other’s presence, even when we stumble with our words and are overly polite.
Finally, he breaks away. He slides a pillow under my ass, then pushes himself inside me. I inhale, my heart beating like wild at the new sensation. Vinnie isn’t a tiny man, and that applies to his cock too. He’s paid to look massive and threatening.
But he’s also my Vinnie, all sweetness when it comes down to it. He protects me on and off the ice.
“Should I keep going?”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
Vinnie grins and continues to slide inside me. “You’re so tight, Evan.”
