“Hurry. We already miss anthem!”

Lola tugged on my arm, steering me through throngs of Railers fans. They all parted for us, but the sour looks were noted. Whether they were glaring at me in my spiffy duds or my grandmother in her Flyers paraphernalia, it was hard to say.

“Hey, why don’t you go back to Philly?” some man carrying two beers shouted.

Guess that answered that.

“Why don’t you go suck dirty eggs?!” my petite little grandmother fired back. “We beat your ass tonight! You see!”

“Lola, oh my gods, will you stop picking fights with the Railers fans?” I weaved around in front of her and purposely directed her away from the beer man and toward our seats.

“He started it,” she snapped, and threw her chin up proudly. “I fight them all. Come get me, little man with big beer belly and puny dick!”

“Lola!” I could feel the heat rushing up my neck. “I swear, if you get into a fight like you did last year at home, I am going to be so cross with you.”

‘Hey, last time that guy started it. He from Jersey.” I showed a nice man in a vest our tickets as Lola rambled on about people from Trenton or some such thing. “Why he come over river anyway?”

“Maybe he was there to see his boyfriend play in his first game back after a horrible summer?”

“No, I don’t think he has boyfriend or girlfriend. I think he has hand.”

The fellow in the vest snickered.

“Don’t laugh, it only encourages her,” I muttered, and we descended into the sea of dusky blue jerseys. Wonderful. My grandmother was the only person in orange. We’d have beer on our heads before the first period was over.

My belly was a whirling mess. Dieter’s parents were there, and even though they’d been nice last night, Dieter’s dad certainly didn’t give anything away. They hated me, I just knew it, and so I’d dampened my usual vibrant me down a few gigawatts. I’d just worn the jersey that Dieter had given me, with his name and number on the back, a pair of dark jeans, and some nice little moccasins with fleece inside. My eyeliner and gloss were minimal at best, and my hair was uncolored and gelled back from my face. I was boring. But boring is best when dealing with parents.

“See, I tell you we miss anthem.”

“Sorry.” I wiggled around a large man with a plate of nachos, then stopped at our row. “I know you love to sing the anthem, but I have no control over the accident by the capitol that made us late. There they are.” My stomach spun. Dieter’s parents glanced up. I wanted to run back to Philly. Instead I gave them a finger-wave.

“Stop worrying. They love you just like I do, babes.” Lola shoved me, and I tripped over the feet of a woman sitting beside a thin black man. “Look, there my man!” Lola waved at her favorite player as he skated past.

“Excuse me.” I stepped over their feet, gently pulled my grandmother along, and made my way to our seats. “Hello.” I held out my hand to the lovely woman with Dieter’s eyes. The man at her side gave me a long, odd look, but he finished it with a smile and shook my hand.

“Hey! You think you could sit down, sunshine?” a man behind us shouted.

“Trent, we’re thrilled to watch this game with you,” Mrs. Lehmann said after I dropped my ass into my seat.

Lola was still standing, arms over her head, chanting at the Flyers as they congregated at center ice.

“LET’S GO PHILLY! RAILERS ARE SILLY!” Lola roared at the top of her lungs.

Mrs. Lehmann giggled.

“I make up that cheer just for this game,” Lola said, then sat down, her eyes sparkling.

“I’m sorry we’re late. There was an accident that held us up for thirty minutes. I thought Lola would combust.” I took off my dark blue coat and laid it over my lap.

Mr. Lehmann kept sneaking peeks at me around his wife. Probably he was trying to get his head wrapped around the idea that his son was in love with a man who wore more makeup than his wife. He’d had since last night to get used to it, but I knew it could take longer.

“It’s fine. You’re just in time for the first line change.” Mrs. Lehmann pointed down at the ice.

Dieter had found us among the fans. His gaze touched mine. I shot to my feet and waved my arms over my head. A small smile tickled his mouth. My stars, that mouth. I had plans for that mouth – and other parts of his hot body – later. Booking hotel rooms for myself and Lola had been a brilliant move, if I did say so myself. She could snore away in her room and Dieter and I could fuck away in ours.

“Hey, buddy, sit down!” Irate Railers Man barked at me. I hurried to take my seat.

I sat on the edge of it for several minutes, trying to keep up with the action. It wasn’t easy, and I’ll confess to having little working knowledge of the game. I’d kept my distance from hockey players in the past. How ironic that I now was head-over-tasteful-heels in love with one.

“You watch your man in corners. He good in there. Fierce, hungry.”

“Right, watch in the corners.”

I did as Lola had said, and I could begin to see a sort of pattern to the way things ran. Mostly. Somewhat. I still didn’t get why they kept stopping play for icing. Or how a person could be offside. That rule made no sense. But I enjoyed myself nonetheless. Dieter and the Railers looked good.

“Meh,” Lola said when I mentioned that to her. “First game always bad. New lines, new players. They not gel until maybe ten games into season.”

Showed what I knew. During the intermission, I climbed over my grandmother, visited the little boys’ room, and brought us each a beer and a plate of nachos. By the time I got back to my seat, the second period was already underway.

“Dieter just pulled a penalty,” Mrs. Lehmann informed me when I was in my seat.

“Oh no! What did he do?” I looked at the penalty box but he wasn’t in it.

“Oh, he sneaky that man of yours!” Lola grumbled, then shoved a cheesy nacho into her mouth.

I sipped at my beer and watched the replay. Oh, so pulling a penalty means…

“I’m confused,” I confessed to Mrs. Lehmann.

“He got the Philadelphia player to hook him.”

“Oh, well yay!” I bounced up and down, but carefully so as not to spill my beer on my clothes. “And getting someone to hook you is good?”

“Yep, see now they’re on the power play,” Mrs. Lehmann explained. “That means they have a man up, since the other team is one man down. It gives them an advantage.”

“THAT NO HOOK! YOU REF BLIND AS BAT!”

I winced at Lola’s angry shouting. The Railers players were talking among themselves before the face off. Tennant Rowe was out there, as was Dieter, which was exciting. I loved watching him play his game. I wondered if he liked to see me skate. I’d have to ask.

Things got pretty frantic then on the ice. The Railers swarmed around the Philadelphia net, shooting the puck at the harried Flyers goalie time and again. The Philadelphia defense seemed to be having a difficult time with the unit out there now. I could see why. All that talk about Tennant Rowe was accurate. He seemed to have a sixth sense about where the puck was going to be, and somehow he was always there.

“GAH! SOMEONE GET ROWE OUT OF CREASE!!” Lola was beside herself. The other people in the arena were thrilled.

Tennant passed the puck to Dieter, who was way back from the net. The men in bright orange turned to give my man their attention, and Dieter then took a shot that blistered past two Flyers, bounced off another, and somehow found the end of Tennant Rowe’s stick. The puck did this funky wobbly thing as it sailed over the Flyers goalie and fell behind him and rolled to the back of the net. The East River Arena vibrated with cheers and an incredibly loud goal horn. Mrs. Lehmann, Mr. Lehmann, and I shot to our feet, clapping and yelling.

“Pah, lucky shot.” Lola waved a fist at the replay of the Railers goal on the Jumbotron. “Dieter do good with assist,” she conceded, then shouted something at the ref in Pilipino.

I was thrilled to see Dieter in a small knot on the ice, him and the other men in his unit slapping Tennant on his helmet. He looked so damn happy. And healthy. It made me feel ticklish inside seeing him doing what he loved so much.

By the end of the second, the Flyers had tied it up, but ended up losing after Tennant set up one of the other forwards, whose name escapes me, and the Railers got a goal. It was well after eleven when Dieter was freed from the dressing room and after-game press talks. His parents and I lingered around outside the arena, making small talk, while Lola sat in my new sassy yellow Prius eating a soft pretzel while listening to the radio.

I thought he would greet his parents first, but he walked right up to me. He looked incredible. There’s just something about a man in a suit. His hair was damp from his post-game shower, and his eyes smoldered like fiery emeralds. His hand went to the back of my neck and he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was kind of stiff, since his parents were right there. He released my neck, then took my hand before turning to talk to his folks. His mom, who was adorable – and a figure skater, so of course she was precious – seemed fine with all the man love. His dad…well, he wasn’t curt or anything, but you could tell he was working through his stuff. And that was cool. I knew I was a shock to the system for some people.

“I was thinking we could get together in the morning for breakfast,” Dieter quickly tossed out when his mother asked about going for drinks. “I’m sure Trent’s grandmother is exhausted. She’s really old.”

Lola could be heard singing along with Bon Jovi about bad medicine.

“Yeah, she’s done in,” I said, and averted my gaze.

The lie was feeble, but Mrs. Lehmann bought it. Or maybe she just knew we wanted time alone. It had been a couple of weeks for us; my rink time was beginning to gobble up my personal time. But money was money, and since I wasn’t sure if I’d get paid for the TV show or not since I’d acted up outside the prison, I needed every damn dime I could get.

“Breakfast would be fab!” I added.

“Okay, breakfast it is.” Mrs. Lehmann kissed her son.

Dieter and his father shook hands. Talk was made about assists and good checking as we tried to wiggle free.

Ten minutes later, we’d broken away and were on our way to the hotel. It was a nice one that overlooked the river. I got Lola into her room, then ran down the hall to mine, my overnight bag thumping on my back. Dieter lingered just outside my door, his hands in his pockets. The sexual tension was so thick in the corridor you could feel it on your skin like fog on a cool night.

I swiped my key card and stepped inside. Dieter followed, shut the door, and flicked on a light. A small lamp on a long dresser flared to life. I dropped my bag to the floor, turned to look at Dieter, and began taking off my clothes. He did the same. His personal bag was flung onto a plump chair in the corner and then he began undressing. Tie first, then jacket, dress shirt and undershirt, shoes, socks, belt, trousers and then his sexy little briefs. By the time his cock was in view, I already had my dick in hand, stroking it root to tip.

“Come here,” I said, and he did, without a moment’s hesitation. His fingers went around mine, tightening the grip on my cock. Tremors of pleasure ran through me. My gaze settled on that mouth. Time to put it to use. “I want you to drop to your knees and suck on me for a while. Then you need to get on that bed and offer that sweet ass to me.”

He grunted, stole a deep kiss, then went to his knees.

“You okay down there?” I asked as the lust cloud lifted for just a second. Maybe a man who’d just rehabbed from knee surgery shouldn’t be kneeling. I was a terrible boyfriend.

“Stop worrying and enjoy.”

He licked a hot line up and down my cock, then rolled his tongue over the head, eagerly lapping up the precum coating it. My eyes drifted shut. Dieter sucked me down, taking me as deeply as he could. I rolled my hips, shoved my fingers into his damp hair, and pumped in and out of his mouth. His eyes stayed locked with mine. It was beautiful and dirty and so fucking erotic I had to pull out several times to stall the impending orgasm.

“You want me on the bed now?” he asked during one of those stops.

I nodded as I battled to calm my breathing. He got up with ease, licked at my mouth, then crawled over the bed, his ass high and proud. The sight of that tight hole and his dangling balls had me falling over myself to find the lube and condoms in my overnight bag.

“Trent, hurry up. I need you to fuck me.”

“No rush,” I replied as I rolled the condom down over me.

One knee to the bed, then the other. The weight of the hockey player offering himself so delectably to me made the mattress dip deeply in the middle. He gyrated his hips when my cock brushed his ass, and a long, low moan of desire rumbled out of him.

“Yes, fucking rush. I need you in me,” he huffed as he went to his elbows.

Pillows slid to the floor. I flipped open the lube. He groaned at the sound. Fingers slick as my cock, I pushed two into him. The big man arched back, his spine bowed like a Halloween cat. I toyed with his ass for a bit, working the lube into him, pressing on his prostate, enjoying the sight and sound of this fingering.

“Trent, for fuck’s sake, man!”

“You really want to be fucked, don’t you?” I slid my fingers out and pressed myself to him, my cock slipping up between his taut cheeks. “Tell me how badly you want to be fucked.”

“Fuck, Trent, I need you so bad,” he said, his voice low and smoky. I ran my fingers up his sides. He shuddered, his skin rising with gooseflesh. “Fuck me – do it now before I come all over my hand.”

Taking myself in hand, I pressed the head of my cock into him. There was resistance at first, and then his inner muscles relaxed and I pushed in deeper and deeper and deeper still. Dieter grabbed the back of his head with both hands when I flicked my hips, a keen of pleasure filling the overly warm hotel room.

“Jesus, Trent…”

“I know,” I gasped. The sheer pleasure of being joined with him was beyond description, so I didn’t try to form words to speak. My body spoke for me. I gave it free rein to do so.

The rhythm we quickly fell into was wild, fast, manic. Dieter came as I rocked in and out of him, his hands still locked behind his head. The clench of him around me pushed me over the edge. I thrust hard, pulling him back onto me, and tumbled off the cliff.

“Oh…shit…oh,” the man under me coughed, his strong legs the only thing keeping us from tumbling to the bed. My spine and all the other bones in my body were now goop. Cock kicking inside him, I bowed down over his back and bit down on his shoulder. “Shit…baby…yeah,” he crooned heatedly. My cock slid out and I fell on top of him then slithered off, shivering from the orgasm still gripping me.

“Ah, lord above,” I whispered, grabbing my cock, and giving it a slow, final stroke.

Dieter went to his belly amid the tousled blankets and sheets. “Oh fuck, I made a mess,” he complained, but didn’t move. “Can we call housekeeping at midnight for clean sheets?” The covers muffled his voice.

“I doubt it.”

He rolled toward me, his weight pinning me to the bed as he battled to get the wet spot covered with one of the four blankets hotels always put on beds.

“You’re heavy,” I said, then wiggled free of the gorilla on top of me.

He chuckled. “You love it. You get hot about how I can toss you around in bed, don’t deny it.”

I didn’t. I could not lie. I loved that he was so big and I was so small.

“True, it’s all true.”

He moved me toward him, pulling me close to his side then pressing me into the bed and kissing me so tenderly I wanted to weep.

“I love you, Trent.”

“I love you too.”

His eyes were damp now. “I mean it. You stood by me through some awful shit.”

“I’m a stander, what can I say?” I chased his lips, eager for more of his kisses.

“Say you’ll keep standing by me.” He drew back to stare into my eyes.

“Always, babes, always.”

I lifted my head from the rumpled sheets. This time I managed to catch a kiss or two or twenty.