Chapter Six

 

Todd was twenty minutes late buzzing for me that evening. I hadn’t started to panic, just kept calm, flicked through my latest copy of Photography Expert and lost myself in an article on underwater lighting.

“Sorry,” he said when I met him at the bottom of the stairs—the elevator was still out of order. “We should swap cell numbers. I hit snooze one time too many. I’ve been asleep for hours.”

“Sure,” I said, taking his offered iPhone. Swapping numbers was a great step forward. Before when I’d wanted to contact him I’d had to go through Armani, who went through his agent to set up times for each shoot. This would make it feel as though we were properly connected. In each other’s lives. “You still want to go out or shall we chill?”

“Out is cool. I’m just not good at changing time zones, never have been, never will be.” He shrugged and dropped his cell into his jacket pocket. “I need a certain amount of sleep and if I don’t get it I feel shit.”

We pushed out the revolving doors of my building onto the street. It was dark and there was drizzle in the air that dampened my cheeks and cooled my scalp. Todd pulled on a Yankees cap, flicked the collar up on his leather jacket then shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“There’s a movie theater just around the corner,” I said. “It’s not usually busy.”

“Perfect, I’m not in the mood for fans.” He glanced at me. “Not that I don’t appreciate them, I just wanna be with you.”

Again that lovely glow warmed my insides. It was how I felt. I just wanted to be with him, too.

We bought tickets for a French film with subtitles. It was a romantic comedy set in Paris and I liked both the main actors and the director. Todd said he hadn’t heard of them but would go along with my recommendation. I spoke fluent French after spending two years there as a student in my early twenties, and I hoped the humor wouldn’t be lost in translation.

Todd insisted on paying for the tickets and a giant tub of buttered popcorn. As far as we could tell, we made it to the back row of the dark cinema with only one brief glance of recognition from the old guy who served the popcorn.

“You okay?” I asked as we sat.

“Yeah. Not many people here, are there?”

“It’s not a big-budget film so it hasn’t had the advertising. But I’m sure it will be okay.”

“Yeah, it’ll be cool.” He delved into the tub of popcorn and shuffled back in his seat as the opening titles began.

It was a really good film. The cinematography excellent, and because I loved Paris the scenery was a real treat. The actors were in top form and I even heard Todd chuckle in that deep, rumbling way of his a few times.

About halfway through, we’d finished the popcorn. I leaned forward and set the tub I’d been holding onto the floor. When I sat back I felt Todd reach over my thigh and then he curled his fingers with mine. Pressing us palm to palm.

I glanced at him through the darkness. The flickering light of the film cast shadows on his face, as did the peak of his cap, but I could see his eyes—just—they were looking at me, soft and excited all at the same time.

I forced myself not to look too affected even though heat from his hand burned on to mine. His touch was creating an electrical impulse of sensation that shot up my arm, through my chest and straight to my groin. Fuck, was I really going to get hard at the movies? My cock was out of control today. No, make that ever since I’d met Todd Carty my cock had had a mind of its own.

I swallowed tightly and glanced around. Despite my inner turmoil and my battle not to grab Todd and molest the hell out of him, the other members of the audience, all seated in front of us, continued to stare straight ahead. Nothing had changed. Except of course, Todd Carty was holding my hand. Big strong fingers were woven with mine. His forearm, that beautiful hair-fuzzed forearm, was leaning on mine. Okay, it was covered in his leather jacket and that stopped me from truly appreciating all of his roped tendons and defined muscles, but still, it felt so good.

After Todd reached for my hand, the film wasn’t as captivating. I kept thinking of other things. Like was Todd getting hard for me? Would we go to a bar for a drink afterward? Would we kiss good night? Would he ask me back to his place or come back to mine? Maybe we would even spend the night together. And if so, would we fuck? Were we, was he, at that stage yet?

The film ended and we stayed seated while the few other people wandered off, two speaking loudly in French.

“You enjoy that?” I asked as the credits came to an end.

“Yeah, it was good. Funny.”

He untangled his fingers from mine. My hand felt hot, my fingers stiff. But I wasn’t complaining. A Liaison in Paris was now my new favorite film and the longer my fingers remembered Todd’s woven through them the better.

“What do you want to do now? Go for a drink or something?” I asked.

“A drink, yeah, how about back at my place? I’ve got a vintage whiskey, one of my old teammates, Rick Lewis, gave to me as a leaving present.”

“Rick Ramrod Lewis.”

“Yeah.”

“God, you just drop names into a conversation, but that guy is a legend.”

“He’s just a guy who plays hockey for a living.” Todd shrugged.

“Yeah, I know, but seriously, Rick Lewis.”

He laughed. “So is that a yes to the eight-hundred-dollar bottle of whiskey he got me?”

“Yeah, it is, but if it was bargain basement Walmart whiskey I’d still say yes.”

One side of his mouth tilted into a smile and he stood, looming over me, all big shoulders, wide chest and beautiful, denim-wrapped groin. “That’s good to know, Matthew. Really good to know.”

 

*****

 

His apartment was warm. The heating had been on full blast and it was pleasant to step into after the short but chilly walk around the block.

I shrugged out of my jacket and flopped onto his sofa, happy to be sitting back in the spot we’d shared our first kiss.

Todd moved to a mirrored drinks cabinet and poured golden liquid into two crystal tumblers.

“Thanks,” I said when he passed me one.

He sat close and took a sip. “Mmm, good.”

I tried it, too. Let the peaty, malt-rich flavor soak through my taste buds. It was damp earth made hot, syrupy and spiced. It flowed down my throat then slid a heated path around my gullet. It was by far the most delicious whiskey I’d ever tasted.

“What have you been up to today?” he asked, kicking off his sneakers and exposing black socks. He wriggled his toes.

“I secured some work with an agency. Nothing exciting, but it will keep money rolling in, then I hung out with the guys at Rizzles.”

“That’s Gareth and Joel’s bar, right?”

“Yeah. Raymond was there today. I haven’t seen him for a while, he’s been away on business. It was good to catch up.”

“What’s he do?”

“Interior designer, sort of, he does a lot of stuff for TV. Stage sets and that.”

“I’d like to meet your buddies.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, they sound like a good bunch of guys.”

“They are, but I’m not sure if you’re ready for them yet.”

He pulled a face and snorted. “You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, not at all. I know you can, it’s just…” I hesitated.

“What?”

“You’d be the first guy they’ll have seen me with since Tony.”

He nodded. “Well, whenever you think the time is right.” There was a pause.
“I sense there’s an and?” he said, frowning.

I chuckled. “Yeah, and Raymond especially might be a little starstruck. He’s always had a crush on you.”

Todd didn’t laugh. Instead he took my whiskey and set it on the table next to his. “Well, that’s too damn bad,” he said, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “Because I just happen to have a massive crush on you.”

He kissed me—all wet, warm lips and gentle tongue that tasted of whiskey.

I curled my hands around his balled biceps, holding him as he held me. I was falling into him, every time he kissed me he broke down my defenses. It had been so long since something had felt so right.

Eventually he came up for air, brushed his fingers across my cheek and onto my neck. “What’s it like?” he asked quietly.

“What?” I stared at his long blond eyelashes. The dim light in the room meant they cast shadows on his cheeks each time he blinked.

“To be living as a gay man, with gay friends, everyone knowing.”

I ran my hand up his arm and moved a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. “It’s all I’ve ever known so it feels right, it feels how it’s meant to be for me. If I suddenly announced I liked women, that would be a shock for everyone.”

We were silent for a moment.

“This feels so right,” he said. “Here with you now and earlier at the movies…” He paused. “Holding your hand. I swear I was nervous before I reached over and took it. Like some hormone messed-up teenager or something, gathering up courage.”

Smiling, I pressed my hand over his that was now resting on my sternum. “It was nice.”

He half closed his eyes and his mouth tightened.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

He looked back up at me.


“Todd?”

“If it gets out that I’m gay, that I’m seeing you, it’s gonna get real complicated.”

“I’m sure it will.” A knot of apprehension grew in my gut. I didn’t want to say my next words but I needed to hand him the option. “But you can still change your mind.”

Please don’t, not now you’ve made me fall for you.

He snorted. “I can’t change my mind about being gay. I know how I feel and although I have no desire to shout about a relationship with you from the top of Everest, at least not until we’ve…”

“Been together for a while…fucked.”

He grinned. “Yeah, fucked. I also don’t wanna spend my time sneaking around to be with you.”

Mmm, the thought of time together. Fucking. Taking him to the places he hadn’t yet experienced and feeling him, holding him as he let go of all those years of suppression. I could hardly wait. But I would. It was the best thing for us both.

He looked worried, as though a ton of what-ifs were tumbling in his mind. I took his hand in both of mine. “Are there any other gay players in the NHL?”

“None that have been open about it. It’s a macho world I live in. Homophobia is commonplace in the locker room, but the Play For All Project has been bandied about lately.”

“What’s that?”

“Ah, just an organization that offers support for gay athletes, helps promote equal opportunities and all that. Attitudes are softening in some areas at least but still, I’d be the first to hit the headlines.”

I considered our options. “So we do need to keep our relationship quiet otherwise you’ll have a load of shit to cope with. It’s always going to be hardest for the first. After that no one else will get the same frenzy of attention.”

He huffed. “I don’t wanna be a trailblazer and Max will see it as a PR nightmare. But what can I do? It’s how I was made. I know that as well as I know my own damn name.”

“It’s simple. We keep this hush, be careful like we were today at the movies. We can be friends in everyone’s eyes and then when we’re alone, like this, we can relax and show each other how we feel.” I stroked my fingertip up his forearm, watching the little hairs moving beneath my touch.

“But that’s what I don’t want,” he said firmly, “the creeping around like we’re having an affair or something. I’ve spent too many years not being true to myself. Hiding my feelings for Raven was like chipping away at a part of who I was. Besides, I’m a tough guy, despite being called pretty all the fucking time. I can look after myself. If ignorant bastards decide to take a swing at me I’ll swing right back. I want to be judged for my on-ice skills, not for who I date.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to look after yourself and all that, but…” The thought of him having to defend himself because he had feelings for and spent time with me made me feel physically sick.

“But?” He frowned.

“But as I said, coming out is hard for anyone. You’re going to get it one hundred times more intense. Your emotions will be strung out, your sexual preferences hung up like dirty laundry. I want you to think real carefully about this, and we really should keep a low profile, for a while at least, until you’re absolutely sure.”

“Sure about being gay or about being with you?” Now he just looked cross with me.

“Both, I guess.”

“How many times do I have to say it? I am sure about both, and I don’t care how hard it gets.” I saw a now-familiar glint of grim determination in his eyes. “Because this is what I want. You are what I want and nothing is going to sway me. Even if the press are bastards and the players rile me, I’ve got to get through it.” He pursed his lips and frowned. “In the end someone has to weather the storm of being the first openly gay player in the NHL. I’m not going to go out of my way to make that me, but if I am…” He shrugged. “I am.”

I had to admire his positivity, but still, it was going to be like landing in a lion’s den and, confident as he was, he’d need all the support he could get if the shit hit the fan. “And your family? How will they feel about it?” I asked.

“It’s only Dad. Mom lives on the West Coast. We’re not close. She’s remarried twice since she divorced my father. I can’t imagine it will make any difference to her. She has two stepsons now, grown up, and lives in a dreamy haze of plastic surgery and fad diets. I only catch up with her every once in a while.” He shrugged. “She won’t be bothered either way.”

I pressed forward and touched my lips to his forehead. “And what about your dad? How do you think he’d take it? You’re close to him.”

“I’m sure he’d be surprised, shocked, probably upset, but despite his age he’s open-minded. One of his best friends has a gay son. He went to their wedding ceremony in Provincetown several years ago.”

I nodded. “Well, whatever I can do to help, just let me know.”

He slid his hands around my back, pulled me near and settled his cheek against my neck. “Thank you. But you know what they say?”

“What?”

“When the going gets tough the tough get going.”

“I guess so.” I stroked his hair, felt the soft strands tickle my chin and brush my lips. “I just don’t want you hurt.”

“I just feel lucky,” he whispered, his breath hot on my skin. “Years of sensing something, someone was missing from my life and here you were in New York all that time.”

“We’re both lucky,” I murmured. The lovely clean scent of his hair filtered into my nostrils and I squeezed him a little closer. The wide expanse of his shoulders were hard against my arms and his broad chest pressed snugly against my body. Holding Todd was a wonderful experience and hearing him murmur sweet declarations was nothing short of heavenly. How could people think this was wrong? How could us being together be worthy of dramatic headlines when so much else was going on in the world?

“Don’t go,” he said. “Stay tonight.”

I drew back and tilted his chin with my index finger. His eyes were sparkling, his brow creased.

“Are you sure?”

“No, I mean yes. I… No.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” I knew what was going through his mind. Hell, I felt the same. We wanted to be together, wanted to hold each other, but neither were ready for raw fucking. But that was fine, in fact it suited me. Because once I took him, showed him the strength of my feelings, I’d be vulnerable and there’d be no holding back from falling head over heels in love.

And look where that got me last time.

“It’s been a long time for me, you know, since Tony.” I smiled, enjoying being able to say his name without the usual shard of pain.

“It has?”

“Yeah, there’s been no one since.”

“Not even a one-night stand?”

“Nah. Not my thing.”

He looked away, toward our glasses on the table. “Matthew, I...”

His sudden lack of eye contact unnerved me. “What?”

“Last week, when I was in L.A., I hooked up with this girl. Cute, big lips, big tits, made me laugh from the minute we got talking. I was in a foul mood, not sleeping, snapping at everyone, and feeling an ass for the way we’d left it, so she was a welcome distraction.”

I pressed my hand over his cheek, turning him to face me. “What happened?”

“I took her back to my hotel room, you know, stripped her clothes off and got down to business. I needed to take my mind off all the shit that was going on in my head and fucking seemed the best solution.”

“And was it?”

“No, I couldn’t, Jesus Christ, for the first time ever I couldn’t, you know, get it up.”

I was silent. He’d kissed me only a few nights before bedding this girl. He’d certainly been getting it up then.

“Don’t look so confused, Matthew, I’m not like you. I do like women, or always did until I kissed you last week. And suddenly there I was, my dick not paying attention despite her best efforts, until…”

“Until what?”

“Until I thought of you. The way you move and your sexy English accent.” He reached up and smoothed his hand over my head. “The way I can see your scalp through your hair.” He moved his hand to my face, touched my mouth with his thumb. “I thought of how we’d kissed, and then when I came, fucking hell, I felt like a shit to her because I was thinking of you, of our cocks touching, rubbing through our jeans. It was one of the most erotic things I’ve ever felt.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over mine. “So you see, Matthew. I only want you now. No one else will do. That’s how it is.”

I swallowed tightly and drank up the sincerity in his eyes. If I’d felt jealous of the rink bunny he’d scored, that emotion was washed away in an instant. He wanted me. He’d found that one cock-grinding moment every bit as sexy as I had.

Amen.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

“What for?”

“For fucking someone else.”

“I don’t have any right to be mad. You can do whatever you want, with whoever you want.”

He shook his head. “That’s what I’m telling you. I won’t have anyone else in my bed now we’re together, I promise. Even when I’m on the road.”

His statement took me aback. It was a far cry from the Todd Carty whose lothario ways were well documented in the rags. “You don’t have to make that promise.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to. I need you to know how I feel because if one day I come out for you—”

“Don’t do it for me, Todd,” I said sternly. “It has to be for you.”

“I know. It would be for me, but I get you too, don’t I?”

“If you want me.”

“More than anything.”

I hesitated as I fought to control my emotions. “And I want you, too.”

A ghost of a smile played with his lips. “But I need to take it slow. This morning was intense in the kitchen. Damn, it’s a good thing I train, otherwise my heart would have given out.”

I laughed. “How the fuck do you think I felt?”

“It sounded as though you were feeling pretty damn good.” He grinned.

“Yeah, I was.” A small shudder attacked my chest at the delicious memory. “We can take it slow. We can be in the same bed without fucking and still have fun.”

His jaw relaxed a little. “Fun’s good. For now.”

I reached for his hand and pulled him up. “Come on then, sexy. It’s bedtime.”

His bedroom was, of course, enormous, with the same high-beamed ceilings as the living room. A vast black leather bed sat on a platform and there was a colossal plasma TV screen on the wall opposite. Several pieces of highly polished dark wooden furniture sat about and a portrait of horses, wolves and eagles racing across a plain hung on the back wall.

“Nice,” I said, toeing off my shoes and letting my feet sink into the silvery white carpet.

“It serves a purpose,” he said, turning off the overhead light and flicking on a single muted bedside lamp. He straightened and turned to me.

He looked so damn sexy standing next to the bed. Tall and broad but with a certain vulnerability about him that made me want to get all alpha and protect him. Though I knew that with those fine muscles of his and that sharp speed he needed no physical protection. But I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to make things right for him—more than right, perfect.

I stepped up to him, my cock already swollen well past a semi. “Lift,” I said, gripping the base of his jersey.

He raised his arms and allowed me to peel it over his head. I dropped it to the floor where it landed silently.

His chest was beautiful. I’d seen it many times on the shoots, but now I didn’t need to disguise the lust or admiration in my eyes. Now I could feast on the sight of his dark little nipples that were small and permanently erect. Stroking my hand over his sternum, I circled each one in turn. Felt him tremble beneath my touch and heard his sigh when I brushed over the slightly pliant stalks.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” I breathed.

He didn’t answer. I guess he’d heard it enough times before.

My cock was full-on hard now. But I was under control. I had to be, for both our sakes.

Todd wore jeans and a brown leather belt with a silver buckle. Luckily my hands were steadier than the tripping of my heart as I released the clasp and popped open the buttons on his pants.

He was hard, too. His cock straining forward. The outline of it was visible beneath the material and the swollen head butted the tip of the waistband.

My mouth watered and my hands tingled at the thought of holding, tasting, worshipping his cock for the first time.

But that wasn’t what I had planned. Not yet, anyway.

After loosening his pants, I pushed them down his legs. It took all my willpower to leave his white briefs in place and not expose his cock, but I did it. I couldn’t trust myself. If I saw him all hot and hard then I would devour him. In one go.

He stepped out of the jeans and slipped off his socks.

I tugged back the thick navy duvet. “Get in bed,” I said, my voice husky even to my own ears.

Without a word, he slid in and lay on his back, his arms bent behind his head, his cock tenting his briefs.

He watched me as I began to strip. When I wore only my boxers, I scooted in next to him.

A small shiver moved over his body.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Cold?”

“A bit.”

I pulled the duvet so it covered both our shoulders then pressed the length of my body to the side of his. He wasn’t cold, he felt warm and solid and his leg hairs meshed with mine. “Turn this way,” I whispered. “Face me.”

He did as instructed, sliding one hand over my waist and tucking the other beneath his cheek. We were nose-to-nose.

“Remember when we first kissed on the sofa?” I asked against his lips.

“You know damn well I do.”

“Well, that’s what we’re going to do again. Only this time there’ll be no ordering me to leave.”

“If you left now I’d die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you’re a sportsman not an actor.”

He laughed and as he opened his mouth I kissed him. Probed my tongue in and tangled it with his.

Instantly he kissed me back, a small moan filtering up from his throat and swirling out from between our lips. I ran my hand down his arm, onto his waist and stopped on his brief-covered hip. “Like this,” I murmured, “but closer.”

I tugged him toward me and he helped the movement by shuffling.

Our cocks came into alignment, only the barrier of our underwear separating them. “Matthew,” he gasped, gripping my hip the way I was his. “Fuck, you’re so hard.”

“Hard for you.” Damn, he felt good. His cock was as long as I’d suspected it would be from our brief introduction through jeans. It felt thick and wide, too, a steel bar of burning rigidity.

“Feeling you against me makes my nuts so tight,” he groaned, shifting his hips so his shaft rubbed up mine on a long, concrete stroke.

I sucked in a breath of warm air. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” My balls were getting the familiar achy pressure that meant they’d be building to an explosion soon. “Lose these,” I said, plucking at the elastic waistband of his briefs.

He didn’t need asking twice.

As he pushed his down, I shoved at mine. My cock sprang free and a modicum of pressure lifted from the turgid shaft.

He gripped my hip again, tight.

I groaned and allowed the wondrous fist of desire to claim me, clamped my hand on his ass and squeezed our cocks firmly against each other.

“Matthew,” he said breathily.

“That’s it. Fuck, it’s good.”

“Yes, oh God, yes. More. I want us to come together.”

“We will.” I began to shift my hips, a rhythmic grind that rubbed our cocks together, up and down. The shafts generated a scalding friction that heated with each and every movement.

He copied me, met me roll for roll, thrust for thrust. His fingers were pincer-like on my butt and his mouth covered mine.

We kissed, rubbed, slid into each other until our breaths were erratic and my heart pounded. My brain was sparking, firing from a hundred points all focused on Todd.

I wanted to reach down, fist our cocks in a clamping grip, but I didn’t. When I touched Todd’s cock for the first time I wanted to be calm and savor every moment. Right now I was on the brink of climax.

“Ah, I’m coming,” I groaned into his mouth.

“Yes, come, fuck, come now.”

Blistering pressure raced up the center of my cock, the intensity almost dragging my balls with it. I couldn’t breathe, my stomach pinched into a tight knot and suddenly it was there. A beautiful moment of fulfillment. Warm heat burst from me, another shot followed, fizzing and popping onto my stomach in a gooey slap.

A sharp cry escaped Todd and I let the sound swirl within me. He was coming, too. The sound of his orgasm was gloriously uninhibited, unlike earlier when he’d tried to suppress it.

I tightened my fingers on his butt, holding him as he shook and shuddered and moaned through his release. More cum landed between us, sticky and hot, basting our abdomens.

He ran his hand to the back of my neck, supporting my nape as his tongue delved into my mouth. His breaths were erratic and noisy against my cheek. The smell of sex and cum and fresh sweat circulated upward, the stuffy air of the duvet intensifying the scent.

Suddenly hot, I flicked the covers off. A cool waft of air caressed my sticky body and I sucked in much-needed oxygen.

“That was fucking amazing,” Todd gasped.

“That was just foreplay.”

“Fuck!” He grinned and a wild, happy flash seared across his eyes.

I laughed and flopped onto my back, staring at the shadow-strung ceiling. “Yeah, fuck! Foreplay to fucking.”

He too fell onto his back, a deep, breathless chuckle coming from his throat.

I reached for him, entwined our fingers and sighed.

Raising my hand to his lips, he kissed my knuckles then placed my fist on his chest, gripping it tightly.

We lay side by side, a sated, comfortable silence caressing us. Cum solidified on my stomach and crisped my body hair. Sweat pricked and cooled my flesh as my heart rate steadied.

It had been a long time since I’d been so physically satisfied.