Crashing the Net (13 page)

“Okay,” Mike said in a hoarse voice, his ass twitching against Alexei’s hand. “Do I need a special word or something?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That’s your special word. It’s very simple with me. If you say no, I stop. If you say stop, I stop. If you have questions, ask them and we won’t go on until they’re answered.”

Mike blinked, his vague gaze clearing. “I—Okay. That’s good.”

Alexei smiled, pleased and reassured that they both understood the ground rules. Then he looked down to where his fingers pressed against the still slightly red and swollen ring of Michael’s anus. It wasn’t too bad, but it also didn’t look comfortable—and Mike clearly loved it that way.

Something snapped in Alexei. Some thin tether he’d still clutched, grounded in the disbelief that Michael could truly want what Alexei wanted and still be his stubborn, hard-headed best friend.

He dug the tips of his fingers against the hot flesh ringing Michael’s entrance and smiled when his friend gasped and arched against the bed.

“Get on your knees.”

Michael did it so fast that Alexei wasn’t certain he hadn’t levitated.

His eyes never left Michael’s beautiful ass, tilted up to his view above the long stretch of Mike’s back. Alexei reached for a condom and the lube from the bedside table. Mike shivered at the sound of the foil packet tearing. Whimpered when the bottle made a rude sound. Alexei thought someday he might torture Mike like this for a while, just with sounds and his shifting weight on the mattress.

Mike was so beautifully responsive. Completely without guile. It was more than a little terrifying. And totally fucking hot.

“Grab the headboard.”

Shoulders and neck muscles bulging, ribs expanding with every pant, Michael clamped onto the headboard, spread his knees, and held himself there.

Waiting for Alexei.

Alexei gave into his long-suppressed desire and planted his teeth against the soft curve of Michael’s ass.

He bit his lover. Hard.

A grunt tore from Michael’s throat, his body jerked, and one arm disappeared beneath his chest. Alexei pinched the perfect flesh between his teeth—an even sharper nip that elicited a loud yelp—then sat up.

He slid his hand between Michael’s legs and over the fist clutching the base of Michael’s shaft.

“You let go of the headboard.”

“Sorry,” Michael gasped. “Was going to come.”

Alexei thought it was probably good that Michael couldn’t see his grin. Or his hand swinging to connect with his ass, right over the blooming red bite mark.

Michael jerked, his knuckles going white.

Alexei would have spanked him again, but he was starting to fear Michael might rip his junk right off rather than betray Alexei’s command.

Now Alexei had to grab
his
dick to wrestle his own orgasm back.

His hand came away covered in lube, and he drew it down the crease of Michael’s ass. He didn’t hesitate to thrust one finger past tender, red flesh and into Michael’s body.

His lover shuddered. “God, Alexei. That feels so fucking good.”

Mike thought he probably ought to be embarrassed at the way Alexei was making him carry on, but he couldn’t stop. His aching muscles clung to the slow drag of Alexei’s finger, unable to relax. His skin achingly sensitive to Alexei’s every movement. Every touch.

Alexei slid a second finger in next to his first, this one loaded with lube. He pressed against stinging skin, eliciting an endless string of hisses and grunts. Mike’s eyes swam with unshed tears. His hands trembled where they gripped the bed and his own dick.

It was so good. Way better than anything he’d ever been able to shove up his own ass.

Alexei’s lips skimmed over the base of Mike’s spine and he groaned, biting his lips to keep from blurting out what he was feeling. Not in his ass, which was fucking spectacular. But in his head. His heart.

Then Alexei’s fingers were gone. Mike looked back, over his shoulder, and barely saved himself from an undignified face-plant by gripping the headboard with both hands again.

Alexei ran a hand up and down Mike’s back, soothing him, until a palm dug into the stinging bite mark on his ass. A smile hovered on Alexei’s lips as he reached for the lube. He didn’t pause, or hesitate, or warn Mike in any way before spreading his ass open and pouring a ton of the stuff into him.

Mike gasped. “Now I know why you buy it by the gallon.”

Alexei laughed. “That cheap shit is only for pranks. I would never risk your comfort with that, Michael.”

God, he loved the sound of his name on Alexei’s lips. How Alexei switched to calling him Michael only when they were like this.

Then Alexei was there, his cock pressing against the screaming muscles and fiery skin of Mike’s ass, and he no longer could have told anyone his
own
name, let alone what anyone else called him. He gripped the headboard so hard his fingers ached, tilted his ass higher, and closed his eyes.

The burn. The stretch. It was magnificent. The moment of exquisite pain and pleasure when the wide head popped inside. The slick glide of thick shaft easing deeper and deeper into his body with each small thrust.

Mike was lost to the fire and ecstasy storming through him.

He moaned, acutely aware of the soft skin of Alexei’s belly as it came to rest against his ass. He thought he could feel every tiny hair brush against the bite mark and where his ass still glowed from Alexei’s spank.

He only wished Alexei had spanked him more. Harder. So he could feel
more.

“You okay?” Alexei’s voice was low and rough, his hands gentle as he rubbed Mike’s spine.

“
Yes
.”

“You sure?” A finger traced the muscles stretched around Alexei’s cock.

Mike shivered, clamping down around Alexei’s shaft and making the burn a hundred times worse. And better.

“Yes. It feels good.
You
feel good. Now, please, please,
please
would you fuck me?”

Alexei’s chuckle lulled him, then two strong fingers pinched the skin still throbbing from the bite.

Mike yelped and jerked back hard, shifting Alexei inside him.
Fuck.
He threw back his head and slammed his eyes shut, choking on his need to scream and beg for more.

Alexei wrapped his arms around Mike’s chest, and Mike strained to hold both of their weight above the bed. Soft lips brushed his ear, but said nothing.

Alexei ground his cock into Mike’s ass and slowly rolled his hips, jamming his rock-hard shaft against aching walls and burning muscles.

“How’s that?”

“Good,” Mike gasped, beyond the ability to string two words together.

Alexei ground harder. “And that?”

“Amazing.”

“Not too much?”

“No.” God, no. He wanted more. He wanted whatever the hell Alexei could dish out.

Which, it turned out, was a whole hell of a lot.

Alexei lifted off of Mike’s back and wrapped his hands around Mike’s waist. Mike held his breath and prayed to god that he would be able to hold out for more than three thrusts before breaking his promise to Alexei and blowing all over the sheets.

Alexei withdrew slowly, each excruciating inch singing along Mike’s fluttering muscles, the lube easing the friction but not nearly enough to erase the sting. Thank god.

Then Alexei threw himself forward, penetrating Mike to the hilt, the thick base of his shaft stretching Mike wider. Better.

Mike howled his approval.

He clung to the headboard with all his might while Alexei fucked him hard and deep, relentlessly. His arms burned. Shook. He was making an absolute racket and he didn’t give a shit. They had no neighbors and if Alexei was going to fuck him like this on a regular basis—
please god
—they probably should never get any.

Mike’s throat burned but he couldn’t stop shouting Alexei’s name. And
good
. And
yes
. And
harder
. And
more
.

“More?” Alexei asked, breathless and fierce, not slowing his thrusts.

“Yes. God, fuck, yes.”

Mike didn’t know what the hell more could possibly be.

“
Fuuuck!”

More
was Alexei shoving a thick finger into Mike’s ass alongside his cock.

Then a second finger.

And a third.

The searing stretch wrenched a constant bellow of joy from Mike. He felt raw. Open. Defenseless.

Happy.

Alexei twisted his hand and three soft finger pads strummed over Mike’s sweet spot.

Mid-scream, Mike went dead silent, his mouth open in a silent roar, his eyes screwed shut, leaking tears.

“Come now, Michael.”

Honest to god, Mike didn’t just come. He came unglued.

By the time of the Ice Cats reached the division finals two months later, there were very few places on Mike’s body that weren’t sore. Playoff hockey, at any level, was brutal, and there had been no exceptions this year. Mike had been slammed to the boards so many times, he felt like one big bruise.

And then there were the good hurts. The ones from Alexei.

He could feel two fresh bruises on his ass. Alexei hadn’t been kidding. He couldn’t stop biting him. There had been an awkward moment in the locker room after the first time, for which Mike was still getting a ton of shit from the guys. He’d since perfected the art of keeping his ass covered almost all the time, and Alexei had learned to tuck his nips lower, in the crease between his ass and thigh, or better yet, higher, in the tender flesh of his thigh just behind his balls.

Alexei had once suggested he stop leaving marks for the rest of the post-season, but Mike had successfully talked him out of it.

Thank god
.

Mike shifted against his hard chair and used the unexpectedly fancy restaurant’s linen napkin to mask the small, delighted twitch of his lips. He thought anyone in the room should be able to look at him and know. They would see the wince, the smile, the way he fidgeted on his seat, and recognize a well-fucked, happy man.

Except, of course, for his clueless parents sitting right across the table from him. Beside him, Jayne kept sending him questioning glances, but Mike was entirely confident his family would go on seeing only what they wanted to see. Believing only what they wanted to believe.

He didn’t care so much. Not anymore. His life was in Moncton, and this visit was just a quick meal after their game that night. He was glad his family had come to watch them win, was happy to catch up about aunts and uncles and cousins and neighbors. And he would be perfectly content when, come morning, his parents got in their car and headed for home.

Jayne was staying a little longer, and Mike was thinking, just maybe, he could tell her about—

“Mike, did you hear? Kevin Miller is getting married this summer,” his mother announced.

Jayne rolled her eyes and Mike fought the urge to join her. “Good for him.”

“Beatrice—you remember his mother?—is
so
pleased. He found a lovely girl. They’re already talking about having children.”

Of course they are
. He had to look away from Jayne’s sympathetic look, leaving him with the choice of looking at his plate or his mother. His asparagus looked delicious. “That’s great.”

“And Cassidy, down the street? She just had her
third
child. Those kids are running their grandparents ragged,” his mother said with blatant envy.

Mike smiled wanly and wondered how many times he was going to repeat the words, “That’s great.”

She continued on, completely oblivious, as usual, to her son’s mood and the dozen more times he offered his stock, monotone answer. Babies. Weddings. His mother was
obsessed
. And about as subtle as a brick.

“…and that should be some wedding! Too bad we can’t go, but of course, I already let your Aunt Mary know that we’d all be coming to Brian’s wedding. And Erica’s due in June, so I’m guessing there’ll be a baptism sometime in July. Maybe August.”

Mike couldn’t take it anymore. The months stretched ahead of him like the eight circle of hell. He blurted out, “I won’t be home this summer,” before he could think better of it. He and Alexei had been talking about it, but with the playoff travel schedule and general exhaustion, no decisions had been made. Now, he could see there had never really been a decision to make.

His mother’s litany of domestic bliss finally came to a halt. “What? At all?”

“No. Sorry. I’m working. You know, for Alexei.” Just saying his name should have made Mike feel better, but the lie made him feel vaguely ill. Alexei wasn’t his boss. And Mike wouldn’t allow Alexei to pay him any longer. He had no idea how the hell he was going to find money to send home this summer. “I’ll see if I can make it to Brian’s wedding,” he added as a concession. It wasn’t his cousin’s fault he was straight and Mike’s mother was fucking baby crazy.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mike. We can find you a job. And I have too much planned for you to flake out on us.”

Mike willfully ignored the flaking out comment. “You do?”

“Yes. A few of my friends at church and I have been talking and they’d love to introduce you to their daughters. Oh, and one of them has a niece that we think would be just perfect for you. I was thinking you could—”

“No!” Mike said loudly, then took a deep breath and choked back the desire to continue shouting. “Mom, please, listen to me. I don’t want you to fix me up with anyone. I don’t want get married, okay? Just
stop
.”

His mother sucked in a breath like he’d punched her in the stomach. “What?”

His father chuckled. “Easy, Louise.” He sent Mike a conspiratorial smile. “I’m sure at twenty two, Mike still has some wild oats to sow.”

He sure as hell did, but that didn’t make his father’s comment any less creepy. Jesus. “Actually, I think you should count on the fact I’ll never find a girl I want to marry.”

And that was as close to the absolute truth as Mike had ever come.

His mother looked stricken. His father confused.