Safe Harbor 2: Hiding in Plain Sight (17 page)

The paddling began again, harder now, and Vlad tried to squirm—no easy task with Joey’s arm clamped around his thighs.

“Uh-uh. No trying to escape.” He paused. “You doing okay, though?”

“Losing. My. Mind.” Vlad’s teeth were clenched, and he idly wondered if he’d chip a tooth. Wouldn’t be the first time, considering his profession.

“Good.”

Vlad clearly heard the note of amusement in Joey’s voice. He drew him right to the edge, slowly but surely, over and over again. “Fuck me.”

“Not this time. This is about you.”

Vlad forced his eyes open. “I like it when you fuck me. I really do. It wouldn’t just be for you.”

“Excellent piece of information to file away, but no. Close your eyes, or I’ll blindfold you.”

With a grunt, Vlad shut his eyes again, resigning himself to having pieces of his brain leak out of his dick one drop at a time—drops Joey eagerly licked up. The sting from the paddle was getting pretty intense, and Vlad made an undignified whining sound in the back of his throat.

“Too much, baby?”

“A little. I need to skate tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Before Joey had even finished talking, the vibration level on both toys kicked up a notch. Joey left him there, hanging on the precipice of insanity, for what seemed like forever. Mercifully he finally got around to stroking his cock and removing the ring. Vaguely Vlad was aware Joey had added more lube as he jerked Vlad off, but the ring coming off still forced a strangled gasp from him. Seconds later, he was shooting cum so far he feared the headboard was littered with it.

“Oh. Oh fuck,” he managed to pant out when the orgasm abated.

“You gonna live?”

Vlad opened one eye and regarded a smirking Joey. “I will get you back for this.”

The other man snorted. “Yeah, like I’ll argue if you try.” His expression softened. “Take a nap.”

“Take one with me.”

They crawled under the covers together. Vlad dropped off to sleep, a sense of contentment settling over his body as he snuggled his still-sore ass against Joey.

Chapter Nine

“Are you kidding me?” Vlad slammed the Sunday paper down on the table. Joey whirled around from his spot in front of the stove.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Vlad stabbed his finger at the offending words in the paper. “Russia just passed some bullshit antigay laws. I could actually get arrested for holding your hand in public.” He paused, cold fury crashing through his veins. “You could too, even if you’re not a citizen.”

“Fucking ridiculous. But I can tell you one thing, hon. I know your family lives there and all, but I have no particular desire to visit Russia.”

“I did not have plans to go back either, and this just made my decision for me.”

“What about your parents?”

Vlad sighed. “I’ve been over here a long time. They have never visited me, even when I was calling home, crying because I missed them so much. Do you know what they said when I got kicked off the Olympic team? I should be ashamed because I’d ruined my chances to play for Russia forever. I did it for them—which I tried to say—but it did not matter. And you know what? I don’t want to play for Russia.” He frowned, his brows knitting. After a pause, he continued. “Huh. With my American citizenship, I am not sure I could play even if I wanted to, though. For the US or for Russia. I’d have to look at the rules.” He stood. “I just can’t believe this. I never thought it would go this far, that Russia hated gays this much.”

Joey plated the pancakes he’d been making and then put his arms around Vlad. Despite the warmth of the day as spring progressed, Vlad soaked in the fuzzy feeling he always got when Joey held him.

“I love you.”

Moving back a half step, Vlad palmed the back of Joey’s head. “I will never get tired of hearing those words.”

“I hope not.”

Joey’s cell rang. He pulled it out and answered it. Several seconds passed when Joey said nothing. Vlad watched in horror as suddenly Joey collapsed into a chair, barely avoiding landing on his ass on the floor.

“No fucking way,” he said into the phone, his voice cracking on the last word. “No fucking way. Oh, God, I can’t believe this.”

Vlad’s eyebrows drew down. Kneeling in front of Joey, Vlad rubbed Joey’s legs in the only show of comfort he could think to give.

“When?” Joey made a disgusted noise. “Of course not.” He listened for a little while longer. “Call me when you know more.” Joey dropped the phone on the table and put his head in his hands.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Brendan. Dead.”

“What?”

“On his last fucking day, on the way out of that godforsaken hellhole, his transport was shot down. When the medics got there, it was a ball of fire. No survivors. Brendan and six other guys, all on their way home except for the pilot, were killed.” Joey grabbed his stomach. “Fuck, I’m gonna be sick.”

He jumped up from the chair so fast it careened wildly before toppling over. Vlad ran after him into the small bathroom in the hall. As Joey dry heaved, Vlad rubbed his back, whispering nonsense. He supposed anything he said would be nonsense. Vlad hadn’t known the man and couldn’t offer anything of substance but the lame comfort he was now giving.

After several moments, Joey crawled to the side of the room and leaned his head on the wall behind him. His eyes were closed, but tears leaked from the corners. Vlad flushed the toilet and grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in cold water before running it over Joey’s face. Yes, he and Joey had only been together a couple of months now, but he’d never seen his man like this. He looked utterly destroyed.

Vlad tried not to let Joey’s reaction get to him. Joey’s friend had been killed. This wasn’t about Vlad. He pushed any questioning thoughts away.

“Do you need anything?”

Joey opened his eyes. “For the fucking war to end.”

“I know. It almost is.”

“I’m so fucking angry, I want to punch something. Not you,” he added when Vlad moved away involuntarily. “I won’t. I just want to. Breaking my hand and putting a hole in my drywall won’t bring him back. Those assholes. They have no respect for human life. He was coming home.”

His voice rose as he spoke, and Vlad couldn’t take not touching him. He just hoped Joey would let him.

“Shh…” Scooting next to Joey in the small space, Vlad took Joey’s head and laid it on his shoulder, slowly stroking his hair.

“Can I have some water? My mouth tastes gross.”

“Of course.” Vlad filled a glass sitting on the bathroom counter and brought it to Joey.

“Thanks.” After taking a few sips and spitting into the toilet, Joey set the glass down on the floor. “Fuck.” Knocking the back of his head on the wall behind him, he repeated the litany once more.

“You’ll hurt yourself.” Vlad reached a hand down. “Come on. We can cuddle on the bed. Get up.”

Joey took his hand, and Vlad pulled Joey to his feet—no easy task, since he only outweighed Joey by about fifteen pounds. Vlad led him away from the kitchen, their breakfast forgotten, and urged Joey under the covers in the bedroom. They settled with Vlad on his side, drawing random patterns on Joey’s chest, and Joey on his back, staring at the ceiling. After a few moments, Joey turned his head and met Vlad’s gaze.

“Me being upset about Brendan doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Joey grabbed Vlad’s hand, kissing his palm. “I love you.”

Vlad nodded. “I believe you. I love you too.” He squeezed Joey’s hand. “You are allowed to be sad. He was your friend.”

“Yeah.”

Joey’s gaze grew distant, and Vlad gathered Joey in his arms. He hated to see his lover like this.

“Yeah, he was.”

* * * *

Two days later, Vlad burst into Joey’s house. They’d taken to leaving the door unlocked if they knew the other was coming over, but Joey jumped, and Vlad winced. He hadn’t meant to scare Joey, but he was so angry, he couldn’t even see straight.

He tossed the letter to Joey. “You really will not believe this.”

Joey picked up the folded sheet of paper, crumpled from Vlad’s rough handling of it, and opened the missive.

He looked up after reading it. “Is this a joke?”

“Russians do not joke.”

Joey raised an eyebrow. “You joke.”

Rolling his eyes, Vlad said, “I meant people like this don’t joke. Can you believe it? First they made me use a horrible gay slur, which by itself almost killed me, and yet did not hesitate to dump me off the team when I did what they wanted. They ruined my Olympic dream. Now they think I’m going to run back to the Russian team and play in the World Championships?”

Vlad’s NHL team was on the verge of missing the playoffs for the first time in nearly twelve years, despite Vlad’s forty-three goals and ninety-two points. Vlad had wondered at times why they’d chosen to use him for their “get the Americans off their game” plan, since he’d been one of Russia’s strongest players, but he kept his thoughts to himself. It was no use spending time and energy trying to figure these people out. No matter what, though, there was no way in hell he was ever putting on a jersey for a Russian team again.

“Apparently they didn’t get the notice about your new citizenship. Didn’t you send them an e-mail or something?”

“I did. It seems they ignored it.” He plopped down on the couch next to Joey, rested his head on the back cushion, and stared up at the ceiling, willing his blood pressure to fall before he gave himself a heart attack at age twenty-four. “I’m so angry right now, and I have no idea what to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

Vlad sat up and looked at Joey. “Tell them to fuck themselves.”

“There’s your answer.”

“No, I want more. I want to get them back.” He was surprised at the sheer amount of venom in his own voice.

“How do you intend to?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, until then, why don’t you let me relax you?”

Joey leered, and Vlad chuckled. His boyfriend never failed to put a smile on his face.

Pivoting until he was lying on the couch with his legs over Joey’s, he said, “Do what you have to do. My body is yours.”

“Hmm.” Joey licked his lips. “Where to start?” After a moment, he reached over, pulled up Vlad’s T-shirt, and attached his mouth to a nipple.

“There is good.”

And just like that, Joey made him forget everything but the swirling morass of pleasure he was sucked into every time Joey touched him.

But the pleasant feelings didn’t last long. A couple of days later, he was on the bike at the arena, working some lactic acid out of his muscles after a game, when Pat hopped on the bike next to him.

“Dude, you’re taking this way too personally.”

“Huh?” Vlad turned to the man.

“You did all you could. The rest of us let you down.”

Vlad’s mind hadn’t been on the game his team had just lost. During the game, he’d forced himself to concentrate. The fans paid a lot of money for tickets, and they deserved to see his best work, whether the team was making it into the postseason or not. But now, afterward, his thoughts had drifted back to the damn letter.

“You did not let me down. We win as a team, we lose as a team.”

“Spoken like a true cliché.”

He spared the man a small smile. “I learned everything I know about giving the right answers to the media from you.”

Pat pointed to himself. “Me? Oh man, you’re in big trouble.” They pedaled silently for a few moments, each seemingly caught up in their own thoughts. Pat cleared his throat. “Something else is bothering you. Want to talk about it?”

Vlad’s head whipped around, and he gaped. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

Giving Vlad a grin, Pat said, “You aren’t nearly as mysterious as you think you are. A lot of the time, your emotions are written all over your face.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can read you. I know when you’re happy, or mad, or whatever. I pay attention. Not everyone does, but when your entire job centers around annoying other players into taking stupid penalties, you have to be a good judge of character.”

Vlad argued with himself. Could he give his secret away to Pat? The guy had been one of the first to befriend him again after the Olympics debacle. “Could we…” He licked his lips and looked away for a moment before returning his focus to the other man. “Could we get a drink or something? I don’t want to talk about this here.”

“Sure, man. Of course. Meet at Kelsey’s in half an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

Hopping off the bike, Vlad made tracks for the shower. Along the way, he texted Joey to see if he could meet them. Having Joey there would make everything so much easier. Plus, if Pat didn’t take the news well, he’d have both Vlad and Joey to contend with. Maybe Vlad should casually mention Joey’s ex-military status before getting into things.

Joey said he’d be there, and Vlad hurried to get ready and go. It would be ideal if he could talk to Joey for a few minutes before Pat arrived, but he hadn’t seen Pat around the locker room and wasn’t sure if the guy had already left. With a family of mice doing the waltz around his stomach, Vlad drove to the popular late-night eatery. Players were generally left alone there, which made it a favorite haunt for postgame meals. He hadn’t thought of that when Pat had suggested the place, but it was too late now.

He got out of his car and practically sprinted for the entrance. Joey was standing in the lobby, and Vlad wanted so badly to grab him and inhale his scent, since the touch and smell of his man was one of the only things that calmed him, but he knew he couldn’t here.

“Okay, so I’m meeting Pat.” He bit his lip, glancing around him. “I’m, um, I am going to tell him.”

Joey’s eyes widened. “Are you sure about this?”

“No. But I think I can trust him. If he goes nuts, though…”

“He won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m here.”

The words came out as little more than a growl, and Vlad fell even more in love with the man, if the notion was even possible.

Pat arrived, and though his brows knitted in confusion when Vlad introduced Joey, he shook Joey’s hand. They were seated in a booth toward the back of the restaurant. After ordering beers and waving away menus for the moment, they settled back. Vlad felt a flutter on his leg and realized Joey was lightly stroking him. The action instantly soothed some of his nerves, and he looked up at Pat.