TEN
For a few seconds, Cade wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. His body felt lethargic. Weighted down.
Someone was lying half on top of him, legs entangled with Cade’s, a thick, matted forearm curled possessively across his chest. Another weight was pressed against his ass, and wow, how good did this feel? Waking up on a lazy Sunday morning with Dante Moretti wrapped around him like a teddy bear. A sexy, hairy, did-he-say-sexy teddy bear.
Just when Cade thought it couldn’t get any more perfect, Dante shifted against him as if he needed to be closer, though this was technically not possible unless . . . okay, it was possible, and Cade was up for that.
Probably. He clenched his muscles, checking in on the morning-after condition of his ass. It would be understandable if that area was a little reluctant to indulge in a vigorous workout so soon after the first time.
Ass replied with, Houston, we are a go!
He pushed back, rubbing against that part of Dante that clearly wanted to pay a visit to Casa Cade.
Dante’s mouth got in on the act with shiver-inducing kisses along the nape of Cade’s neck, followed by breathy moans in his ear. Cade moved Dante’s hand down to cover his own morning wood, and Dante took charge with leisurely strokes.
“Morning, polpetto.”
Polpetto. Cade never thought he’d enjoy being called a meatball, but Dante said it was because he liked him. He smiled into the pillow. This was the life.
Something buzzed—a phone—and Dante’s hand stopped doing what Dante’s hand was doing best.
“I should check that.”
“Do you have to?”
“It could be—”
“A hockey emergency?”
Dante smiled as he leaned over Cade to the opposite nightstand, sliding a kiss across Cade’s lips as he did so. “Hold on to your dick.” He picked up the phone, the smile quickly fading.
“So it is a hockey emergency?”
“No, it’s Harper. I’d forgotten that I’m supposed to be meeting her and Remy for brunch.” He didn’t sound too pleased about it.
“No problem; let me get my jeans on. I’m sure she won’t mind one more.” At Dante’s frown, Cade punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Uh, that’s a joke, Moretti.”
“She’s trying to set me up with someone.”
Record scratch. “Over brunch?”
“Yeah.” He was already texting. “She’s got it into her head that I’m lonely and need to meet people.”
“Are you? Lonely?”
“I wouldn’t say lonely.” He didn’t even look up from his phone. “But I’m new in this city, and meeting people isn’t a terrible idea. She’ll need to up her game, though, because this guy she brought to dinner at her place last week was an asshole.”
Dinner. Last week. Asshole.
Needing to ensure his voice didn’t emerge in an unmanly squeak, Cade counted to three before he spoke. “So, you’re dating?”
“No. I’m sitting and eating with men that Harper thinks I’d like.”
Which sounds a lot like fucking dating to me.
“She knows a lot of people. And . . .” Dante raised his gaze from his phone, a coolness in his eyes that hadn’t been present since Cade showed up at his door last night. “I’m open to dating.”
Unlike Cade, who was most definitely not. At least, not for real. His heart was beating so loud that surely Dante could hear it. Surely the whole world could hear it.
Dante frowned. “Does that bother you?”
“Yes.”
Dante put the phone back on the nightstand and faced Cade, leaning up on his elbow. “While I admire your honesty—it’s kind of hot, actually—I also have to tell you that what you think on this topic is of no consequence.”
That record scratch was now a record needle stab in his brain. But Dante was a straight shooter, and why should he be anything less in this situation? Well, good ol’ Cade Burnett could be just as forthright about his needs.
“If I asked you not to go to brunch with that guy and stay in bed with me, what would you say?”
Dante smiled. Several of Cade’s brain cells gave up the ghost. “I’d say that you’re going to have to persuade me.”
Cade curled a hand around Dante’s neck, watching for that flare of lust to ignite in his eyes. Come on, come on— There it is!
His mouth found Dante’s, warm and welcoming. If he could keep his interest, maybe the guy wouldn’t need the rest. A real, out-in-the-open relationship. Hell, the challenge to make this man his without him even realizing he was falling—Cade liked that. He liked it very much.
He drew back. “Persuaded?”
“Kind of had my heart set on eggs Benedict.”
“Oh you did, did you?” Cade pushed him flat, pinning Dante’s strong arms over his head. Their hips clashed, their cocks got reacquainted, and then they were kissing, frenzied pulls on each other’s lips, tongues mingling and tasting.
“How about I scramble your brain with the blow job of your life and then make French toast?”
As Cade slid down Dante’s body, he heard a rustily uttered groan of, “Deal.”
Dante had no idea what he was doing.
Ostensibly, he was watching a hockey game in his living room, but really he was watching Cade Burnett watching a hockey game in his living room. Every time anyone came close to scoring, the Texan shot to his feet. If it was an offensive play from the Boston Cougars, he’d look at Dante and say, “But that used to be your team, Dante!”
Of course, he was the same when the Spartans got into the attacking zone. He was just excited about hockey, and that excited Dante. Dante could watch this guy all day, all night, maybe all his days and all his—quit it. It’s just a crush.
They’d spent the entire morning in bed before Cade left to move some furniture for Violet. Dante hadn’t expected him to return for dinner—his mom’s world-famous chicken Milanese—and assumed he’d watch the game with his teammates at the Empty Net, a bar near the arena where all the players hung out. But it seemed that neither of them was ready to call it a day. Not when there was so much skin to be explored, so many kisses to be crafted, and so much pleasure to be wrung from each other’s bodies.
Or maybe Cade was in this for the food.
The first break came, the score still a goal-less draw. Cade now gave Dante his entire focus, flipping his gaze over his body with something like disapproval.
“What?” Dante looked down at his tee and jeans. “I can’t wear a suit all day. And especially not on a Sunday at home.”
“No, I was just thinking that you’re sitting in that armchair and I’d prefer if you were on the sofa. With me.”
Dante’s heart skipped a beat. Cade had this look on his face, like the idea of not being able to touch Dante was his personal hell.
“How long do you think we’ll be able to watch this game if we’re within touching distance?”
Cade patted the cushion beside him. “Let’s give it a shot, shall we?”
By the time the next period started, Dante couldn’t focus on a single play. Cade couldn’t seem to relax, either, slipping sly looks his way, twitching his sexy mouth like he was building up to saying something.
“You’re thinking awfully loud over there, Burnett.”
“So no one at Boston is gay?”
“Not that I know of.”
He considered this. “But somewhere else?”
“Do you think I’m running a Gay Confessions club? Curious, questioning, confused? Let me touch your hockey-playing dick and make a determination.”
Cade smiled. “I think if anyone’s gonna know, it’s you.”
“Why? Does my tokenism as a managing executive who happens to be gay make me more approachable to my tribe? Bless me, Dante, for I like dick?”
“Well, I came to you.” Cade gave another smile, but this one trembled around the edges of his mouth.
Shit. Dante reached for him, cupping his jaw when he tried to turn away. “Sorry, I’m being a jerk. I know it’s tough for you, hiding who you are.” He rubbed a thumb along his lower lip. “I’ve been there and it’s the worst feeling in the world. I’m glad you told me, but would you have if I hadn’t spotted you at that club?”
Cade scrunched up his mouth and suddenly it hit Dante like a puck to his head:
“You were there for me. You wanted me to find you.”
Cade’s shoulders relaxed by a degree. “I’d never been there before. Some guy I know, this hookup I don’t hook up with anymore, was always trying to get me to go, but it seemed so risky. He said he’d seen you there a couple of times, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”
Thought he’d give it a shot? That was the first time Cade had been out out in public, and he’d done it with Dante as his goal?
“If you wanted to talk to me, then why not make an appointment during office hours?”
“That would have gotten us off on the wrong foot: employee and boss. I didn’t just want to tell my GM. I wanted to tell Dante Moretti, the hottest guy on the planet, on neutral turf, and then . . . well, blow his mind.”
Which he did, and more. Dante saw it now. How brave Cade was to risk putting himself out there. At Cade’s age, Dante would never have dreamed of approaching someone he knew and admired to display his soft underbelly.
Cade had said he wasn’t looking for more than mutual pleasure, yet Dante couldn’t help but feel responsible for the younger man, and just a touch irritated to be placed in such a position. Something else also struck him. If that club experience was Cade’s first time being publicly gay, what other firsts could be laid at Dante’s door?
“Cade, last night, when we had sex—”
“When we fucked each other’s brains out, you mean.”
With a wave of his hand in fake dismissal, Dante smiled. “Yes, yes, you were amazing. But was there anything about that experience that might have been new to you?”
Cade had this look on his face, like a cute-as-fuck puppy who’d crapped all over the rug and was now giving a who me? tilt of his head.
“Cade . . .”
“Was it that obvious I wasn’t an ass sexpert?”
“No, not at all. But I’m getting the impression you’re checking off a list. Any particular reason why you’ve held off until now?” And why you wanted me to be your first?
“It’s always seemed like, I don’t know, the final frontier.”
“The final frontier?” Dante could feel a laugh bubbling in his chest and he couldn’t resist. “Cade Burnett’s ass. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Moretti—”
Cade pounced, pinning him back on the sofa. “Shut it.”
“To boldly go—” Cade tried a kiss to shut him up, but Dante moved his lips away. “Where no cock has gone before.”
“Stop making fun of my incredibly vulnerable moment, dude!”
But he was laughing as he said it and Dante guessed he enjoyed the levity after the sofa confessions. A possessive pride flooded Dante’s chest. He was the first to own this guy’s ass, and damn, that made him feel like a god.
“Shit, you talk a good game, Burnett. You’ve been coming at me hard, like this is your usual, and yet underneath that cocky exterior is”—he stroked his jaw—“is what exactly?”
“It’s all pretty cocky, Dante,” Cade said with a wry smile. “Look, I wanted the first time to be with a guy who knows what he’s doing. Someone I trust. This doesn’t make us chained for life, y’know. Ass virgin and deflowerer.”
“Don’t you mean frontiersman?” Dante kissed him to soothe the little jab, and soon they were lip-locked in a battle for deep and wet and so damn sexy. Before things got out of control, he drew back. “You should have told me. I could have hurt you.”
“And have you freak out? Nuh-uh. I’ll admit that for a moment I did question why any guy would ever want to do this, but about five seconds in, it turned so sweet I wondered why I’d waited so long. Borchia, it was perfect.”
Cristo, it was. This is. Still, despite Cade’s protestations to the contrary, Dante couldn’t help feeling that his defenseman might have more skin in the game than was good for either of them. Dante’s job meant anything more with Cade was a nonstarter, and even if they could get over that hump—an impossible if—Dante knew that a relationship with a man who wouldn’t admit who he was would never work.
Good thing this wasn’t a relationship. Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to redraw the parameters.
“You asked if I knew anyone at Boston who was gay?”
Cade nodded slowly.
“I did, but not in hockey. A guy in a different sport—a different pro sport. He and I were in a relationship for a while—he wouldn’t go public and I never expected him to—but still, I got tired of being on the down low. Coming out was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and people said I was a fool to do it before I’d achieved everything I wanted: top of the hockey food chain. Manager of a team. But it got to the point where lying to myself was worse.”
Cade opened his mouth.
“I’m not talking about you, Cade. This is about me. My journey. I can’t make that decision for you.” He curled his palm around that soft skin at the back of Cade’s neck and touched forehead to forehead. “Everyone’s mileage will vary. Maybe you’ll go your whole career and keep it to yourself. Maybe you’ll have an epiphany one day and realize out is what you need. Only you will know what’s best for you, your career, and your mental health. I’m here to talk, to listen, to be your shoulder.” But Dante was done with guys who couldn’t make the leap. He understood them but they were no longer relationship material. Cade needed to understand this as well.
“What happened with you and this guy?”
“I realized that respecting myself was more important than having someone to cuddle up with on the sofa.”
“Christ, Moretti, have you already got the cannoli boxed and ready to go?”
Dante laughed. What an asshole he’d been, but Cade was too good-natured to let it bother him. Either that, or he had the best head fake in the business.
“Right now you’re what I need, and I think maybe I’m what you need. Sofa cuddling can be included as long we both recognize that this isn’t anything more than making each other feel good. Even if the fact I’m your boss wasn’t an insurmountable hurdle, neither of us is looking for a relationship.”
But Dante would be eventually. He liked being in a relationship. He liked having someone to think about, to cook for, to wrap himself up in. But for now he’d stave off his loneliness with a hot, hunky hockey player.
He leaned back and rolled his arm along the top of the sofa. “C’mere, polpetto.”
Cade levered back, his shoulder notching into a spot below Dante’s chin. Dante coasted his lips against the Texan’s ear, drawing a pleasurable shiver. So it wasn’t only sex, but they couldn’t go at it like rabbits every second of every day, could they? It seemed silly not to touch each other and seek comfort with their clothes on.
Dante settled his forearm over Cade’s chest. The guy fit so right, and Dante couldn’t help inhaling the scent of his hair and brushing light lip grazes along the shell of his ear.
“Thought you wanted to watch the game.” Cade’s voice sounded rusty.
“We’re talented guys. No reason we can’t do both.”
Cade drew lazy circles on Dante’s arm and released a gentle sigh of contentment. Weird how a weighted conversation about the lack of a future could have relaxed them both.
“How long were you with that guy in Boston?”
“Two years, off and on.” Two years of furtive meetings and cloak-and-dagger fucking. Exciting at first, considering the risks, but ultimately unsatisfying—and surprisingly lonely.
“You broke up with him?”
“I got a chance at this job, and the relationship had been dying slowly anyway. I wouldn’t push him to go public, and ultimately we were at an impasse. It started to eat away at us, so I guess I broke up with him.”
Cade turned and looked him square in the eye. “If he’d have come out, would you still be together?”
Probably not. He and Jeff didn’t really fit all that well. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever wanted two things in my life: to play pro hockey, and when that part of my life ended, to become a general manager. This business we’re in requires us to be mobile, so there was always a good chance we’d have been separated by our careers anyway. Maybe if we’d been stronger together, we could have made it work. But we weren’t, so we’ll never know.”
Cade held Dante’s gaze, unerringly. What was going on in that sharp mind of his? He looked like he wanted to share, but then he changed his mind and turned back to resting against Dante.
Bullet dodged. Perhaps.