Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey Book 2) Read online

  “Nope. We bet on blowjobs. Obviously, you’re going to win when you bring extra ammunition.”

  Despite Beck’s protests, he doesn’t look disappointed.

  “What were you saying earlier?” I’m enjoying this way too much. “Jacobs, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Pretty sure that wasn’t it.”

  I shrug and sit on the side of my bed. “Actions speak louder than words. What was that, one minute? Less?”

  “Do over.”

  I peek back at him. “What?”

  Beck grabs my arm and pulls me against him. I go reluctantly, not sure of exactly what’s happening when I fall back against my pillows and Beck rolls onto his side to see me better. He’s got one arm tucked under his head which draws my gaze to his impressive bicep. “It’s clear we’re not done with each other.”

  “I’m gonna stop you there. I get that you’re hooked on my mad skills, but I might need to share this newfound gift around. Wouldn’t want to keep it from the world.”

  “Fuck that,” Beck says. “We need practice before we unleash these talents.”

  I force back my smile. “Maybe you do. I’d give it a five outta ten.”

  “Five?” He blinks at me. “Five?”

  Somehow I hold back my laughter. “Eh.”

  “Eh?” He slings an arm around my waist and drags me closer. “Now you’re being an asshole.”

  “I guess you’ll have to practice some more.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Hell, next time you might even hit a big ol’ six.”

  Beck laughs and settles down, chin propped on my pec. His skin is warm against mine. It gives me the perfect view over his shoulder to his sexy, round ass and the grooves that run down the sides of his cheeks.

  “You really like my butt, huh?”

  I reach down and grab a handful, squeezing it as tight as I can. “It’s fine, I guess.”

  Beck nudges me, and I nudge him back. We wrestle on my tiny bed for a minute before I slam him back against the mattress and press my weight against him. Beck’s laughter dies, and a smile splits my face.

  I quickly swallow it down.

  With Beck under me, his blue eyes bright and a look of … that can’t be awe or, shit, affection. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

  “Wait.” I blink and sit back. “What’s happening here?”

  Beck watches me. “Feeling allergic?”

  “No …” I pause, not sure why I suddenly feel so unsettled. All the dick wasn’t enough to do it, but for some reason joking around and hanging out is? I’m so confused.

  “Let me guess …” His voice is dryer than I’ve ever heard it. “I got off, so now I should get out.”

  “It’s not—”

  “Whatever, I get it.” But he doesn’t make a move to leave. He lies back and tucks his hands behind his head again. “We’re teammates fucking around. Having our big, gay college experience together.”

  “Well … yeah.” I mean, that is all this is. Right?

  “Good. We both know what’s up, you can quit your freak-out now.”

  “You think I’m freaking out?”

  “You’re definitely freaking out. You might suck cock better than me, but I’m better at handling the gay stuff than you.”

  I scoff. “I’m not freaking about sleeping with a dude, jackass.”

  “Then what’s up with you?” He pats the place beside him. “Come tell Beck all about it.”

  “Why haven’t you left yet?”

  Anger flashes across his face. “Okay, okay. Shit.” He tries to get up, but I stop him.

  “No, no.” I shift closer. “I’m not kicking you out. I’m curious why you haven’t left yet. I thought you would have run right out of here like last night.”

  His gaze immediately darts away from me. “Do you know we’ve literally eaten each other’s cum, but … I don’t know a whole lot about you. Like, you said you’re a farm boy. I never knew that.”

  “I never told you. I don’t talk too much about myself to anyone except Grant.”

  “Grant. Who you’ve never slept with.”

  I give him a flat look. “Ever.”

  “Ever. Right.”

  “Seriously, nothing happened.”

  “But you wanted it to?”

  This time I can’t look at him. The truth is, I really don’t know. “I was pretty confused. And yeah, he’s attractive and we’re close, but …” The end of sophomore year is when I started picturing the possibility of us hooking up, but none of those fantasies came anywhere close to how things are with Beck. Grant … intrigued me. Beck sets my fucking blood on fire.

  “But?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Yes, I have an excellent reputation for letting things slide.”

  I shove him playfully, and okay, maybe I don’t totally hate this. “Okay, you wanna play the ‘get friendly’ game. Let’s do it.”

  “Heads up though, I’m a way better friend than you.”

  “Gotta be better than me at something I suppose.” I sound so serious and sincere it takes everything in me not to laugh at his surprise.

  His expression slowly melts into a smile. “I like this playful side of you, Topher.”

  I awkwardly lie back down, and we turn to face each other.

  “Let’s start easy,” I say. “What does TJ stand for? I don’t think I’ve heard your first name … ever.”

  Beck laughs. “No way. I’m taking that shit to my grave.”

  Well, that gets my attention. “Are you saying it’s worse than Topher?”

  “I’m saying it doesn’t matter, because you’ll never hear it. On every document in this school, my name is TJ.”

  Surely he has to realize it’s now my life mission to figure it out. “Uh-huh. So what can I ask?”

  “Favorite food? Beef jerky. Favorite sport? Hockey, duh.”

  “What do you wanna do after college?”

  Apparently I’ve found another thing that shuts him up because Beck closes his mouth fast. “Your turn. What do you want to do after college? Follow Grant into the NHL?”

  I rub my mouth. “I … I dunno.” It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Playing for an NHL team, my whole life surrounded by hockey and all the money that comes with it. “The NHL has a lot of uncertainty, and even making it that far is a slim shot. I can’t afford to wait around in the AHL for someone to decide I’m good enough—”

  “You are good enough.”

  His words bring a little burst of pride. “Thanks. But it’s not even about that. I mean, there are too many variables. Too much travel. I need to be close to home. My break from the farm was college, and once I graduate, I’m going back to that, along with a real job to help pay for shit around the farm so my parents don’t lose it.”

  Beck frowns. “You’re saying if you were offered an NHL contract, you wouldn’t take it? Do you know how much money NHL players make?”

  “Do you know how much AHL players make? If we’re being realistic, that’s the most I could hope for. I’m good at hockey, but I’ll never be one of the greats. I’m not egotistical enough to believe otherwise. Grant had scout interest by this point. I’ve barely had any nibbles.”

  “Yeah, but that dude was insane. Hockey was his entire life.”

  “True. Which brings me to another point. I love hockey, and it’s given me so many opportunities I wouldn’t have normally had, but it’s not my everything. It was my ticket to a stable future. Professional hockey is not stable for players who are only good.”

  “Huh. Interesting. Here I was thinking you were only about hockey. Even to the point of sacrificing fun for it.”

  I glare at him.

  He ignores it. “What else, then? What’s your major?”

  “I’m doing a double degree in physiotherapy and health sciences. Figured a position as a PT would be more stable.”

  “That sounds … fun.”

  I sigh. “This is what I mean. Not every
thing in life can be fun. I’m the oldest of four kids, and while the idea of a farm boy might be hot to you, it’s a rough life. Some years we’d make a decent profit, other years there was barely money to cover utilities. I don’t want that life, but I can’t abandon my family.”

  Beck contemplates that with a look on his face I can’t decipher. Then, slowly, he forces a smile he clearly doesn’t feel. “Some days, I do dumb shit to shake my life up a bit. Whenever things start to feel boring, I … it’s like I can’t control the urge to find something that makes me feel alive again.”

  “Like starting a food fight?” I deadpan.

  A real laugh jumps from him. “Hey, that was freshman year. I was a dumb kid then.”

  “Someone got hot sauce in my eye. It burned for like two days straight.”

  “Aw, you big baby. Need me to kiss it better?”

  I’m about to tell him to fuck off when his lips press against my eyelid. And against all my better judgment, against years of hating the guy, something softens inside me. “And … I guess that’s what this is, right? Something to make you feel alive again.”

  I’m not sure why he’s so surprised I’ve called him on it, when that’s what most of our relationship has been, right up until that kiss.

  I cut him off before he can throw some bullshit reasoning at me. “Glad I could help out.”

  His hand runs down my chest, my abs, and comes to a rest over my cock. “Haven’t heard any complaints from you so far.”

  I push my hips forward as my dick decides it’s done resting. It starts to lengthen in his hand as Beck slowly strokes along the shaft. “Gonna get some more practice in?”

  “New toys to play with.” His smile is wicked as he makes a show of sucking on his finger. “Better set a timer.”

  16

  Beck

  It’s not the first time I’ve woken up next to someone with our limbs tangled, our sweaty, naked skin pressed against each other and my morning wood digging into my bed companion.

  It is the first time I’ve felt that same hardness against me.

  I’m confused for 3.5 seconds before I squint open my eyes and see Jacobs.

  His face is right there, all high cheekbones and hair falling over his forehead, and it might be the only time I’ve ever seen him without scowl lines.

  He looks peaceful and … happy when he’s sleeping.

  As if sensing my analytical stare, one of his eyes cracks open, and then all at once, his face falls into the angry sour look I’m used to seeing.

  “You’re still here.”

  “What gave it away?”

  “Does your snark ever turn off?”

  “Hang on, let me check.” I pretend to think about it. “No.”

  He smiles, but when my hand moves down the middle of his back, he stiffens. And not the fun part of him.

  Guess I’ve outstayed my welcome.

  That shouldn’t get to me, but it does.

  Just like last night when he assumed I was being sarcastic when he said he was going into health and wants to be a physiotherapist. Truth is that does sound fun, and the opportunities it would open for him could be countless. He could be a team trainer or a sports therapist.

  I wasn’t hating on it. I’m jealous.

  I should get up to leave, but I don’t. Instead, I lean in and capture his mouth with my own.

  Soft lips move against mine, and unlike the fast and needy kisses we shared last night, this is different. Lazier. Gentle.

  I let my mind trick me into thinking it’s because we made each other come so much last night I’m too exhausted to put more effort into it.

  It has nothing to do with wanting to make him more comfortable around me so we can repeat this over and over again.

  It’s not about him seeing right through me by saying hooking up with him makes me feel alive.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  Besides, what we’re doing is exhilarating, and I’d be lying if I said the secrecy of it doesn’t add to the adrenaline, but bottom line is, sex with Jacobs is fun.

  It’s not about feeling alive or doing it because my father will hate it. It has nothing to do with that and everything to do with my dick being happy.

  I want to go another round with him, but our last one was only a few hours ago, and after maxing out on orgasms, my cock is spent.

  Never thought that would be a possibility.

  Jacobs’s hand weaves into my hair, and he pulls me closer.

  Ooh yeah, I’m not the only one not wanting this to end.

  On that note, I pull back. “Sorry I crashed out. Didn’t mean for it to be a thing.”

  “It’s not a thing. It’s … fine.”

  I snort. “One day you’re going to admit you like my company without wincing or pausing.”

  “Maybe.” He smiles. “One day.”

  “You wait. A few more times of making that sound come out of you when you orgasm and you won’t want to leave my side.” I roll on top of him and give him a chaste kiss before jumping out of bed.

  “Oh, so delusion is a side effect of having so much snark.”

  I grab my clothes off the floor and look at him over my shoulder. “One day, Topher.”

  He’s on his side, propping his head up with his hand. “What are you doing with our morning off?”

  For a brief second, I think he’s going to ask me to stay.

  He doesn’t. “I’m going to hit up the team gym,” Jacobs says. “If you wanted to train together.”

  I smile. “It’s already starting. You want to train with me?”

  “Kicking your ass lights a fire under mine. Your competitive nature is good for me.”

  Images of last night’s competition fills my head. “I’d say it’s good for both of us.”

  He averts his gaze. “I’m going to shower and grab some breakfast. Meet you at the gym in an hour?”

  “Sure. Later.” I don’t bother putting on my shoes and socks.

  Sneaking out of his room is easy at this time of morning, but getting to my room isn’t as smooth.

  Cohen’s coming the other way. He can’t hide his amusement as he witnesses my walk of shame. “Where’d you go after McIntyre’s last night?”

  “Strip club,” I lie.

  “Who’d you meet at a—holy shit, did you fuck a stripper?”

  I try not to laugh at that mental image. Jacobs swinging around a pole in a thong. Hmm, actually …

  “Totally fucked a stripper,” I say dryly.

  “See you later, Captain.”

  I flinch. That title is gonna take more getting used to than I thought it would.

  I enter my room, dump my stuff, and get straight in the shower to wash the last of Jacobs off me.

  Already, I can’t wait to get to the gym. Turns out I like hanging out with him when he isn’t constantly angry with me.

  I dress into running shorts and a tank top, shove my feet into sneakers, and head for the coffee shop off campus to get something to eat.

  And what’ll you know, I get in line right behind Jacobs.

  He orders a coffee and two bacon-and-egg sandwiches, but before he can hand over his money, I step forward.

  “I’ll have the same, and just put it all together.” I slide over my credit card. “Thanks.”

  Jacobs turns to me. “I can pay for my own food.”

  “I know you can, but I’m offering.”

  “Name for the order?” the cashier asks.

  I grin. “Topher.”

  Jacobs rolls his eyes and stalks off to a table in the back.

  I follow. “Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “Yup.”

  I laugh. “So that hasn’t changed yet, then.”

  “Two nights of …” He glances around the practically empty café.

  I lean in and whisper, “Sex. Is that a bad word in your household or something?”

  “No. I can say it. But I didn’t know if you can call what we’re doing sex.”


  I shrug. “Shared orgasms. Totally counts.”

  “Well, two nights of sex isn’t going to make my opinion of three years change.”

  “So, we should do it again tonight? I’m hearing that as we might need to make it a hat trick.”

  Jacobs tries to hide a smile but fails, and when our order is called, he’s quick to jump up to get it. I assume he moves fast so he either doesn’t insult me or doesn’t admit that he wants another night too.

  He places my food and drink in front of me, and I can’t help smiling at him.

  He’s oblivious as he sits and takes a sip of his coffee.

  “You know, this is practically a date.”

  Jacobs sprays coffee all over the table, and I lean back in my seat victorious.

  Today’s camp session is one of those days where everything clicks, the kids are listening, and the plays are smooth and effective.

  We’re playing alongside them today, and I’d be proud to have any one of these guys on my line.

  Gliding over the ice, pummeling the competition, and being on a team has always given me that warm feeling in my gut. Like being at home. Only, not my actual home because that was always cold and lonely.

  The only reprieve I got growing up was commiserating with my younger sister. We bonded over shitty expectations our parents had of both of us. Where I was supposed to be smart and the heir to the Beckett Enterprises fortune, she was supposed to look pretty and stay quiet.

  We both hate our respective roles, and they don’t fit us.

  Thinking of my sister, it reminds me to call her to check in.

  But after we finish practice and plan to meet at McIntyre’s straight after showering and getting dressed, I send her a text instead.

  She doesn’t reply, which makes sense when I realize it’s the middle of the night in Greece.

  But when we’re a few drinks in, and I’m getting close to being ready to get out of here with Jacobs, hearing her shrill voice doesn’t make any sense.

  Or, makes perfect sense if I think about it. I didn’t exactly give her warning that I wasn’t going to be with her this summer, and I haven’t heard from her since before the break started.

  As if conjuring her out of thin air, my sister can be heard around the whole fucking bar.