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

  “For the team.”

  “Such a good captain,” I say with mock seriousness.

  “This way?” Beck asks, flicking on his blinker.

  “Yep. And then the next left.”

  The restaurant and dinner last night were great, and I loved seeing him let his guard down, but tonight, I want to make him smile.

  He pulls into the parking lot and leans forward to read the sign over the entrance. “Balls ’n’ Holes?”

  “Mini golf.”

  “This place is actually called Balls ’n’ Holes? Tell me this is what heaven looks like.”

  I laugh and nudge him to get out as I unclip my seat belt and do the same. When I saw the name of this place online, I knew I had to bring him here for that alone. Who knows if mini golf is any good? But if I’m quickly learning anything, it’s that Beck can make anything fun.

  We pay for the standard eighteen-hole game and take the balls and putters out with us.

  The whole course is lit up, and I’m glad we waited to come once it was dark because the flashing lights and sounds make the place seem more like a carnival than a boring golf course.

  “Have you ever put balls in holes before, Topher?” Beck leads me to the tee marked with a number one.

  “I regularly put a biscuit in the basket—that’s close enough, right?”

  Beck laughs. “Let’s make this interesting.”

  “Oh yeah, what did you have in mind?”

  “I bet I kick your ass at this.”

  I narrow my eyes at his cocky tone. “Have you played mini golf before?”

  “Never.” He rests a hand over his heart. “Promise.”

  “Okay, you’re on. But this time we’re deciding on a prize.”

  “Fine. If I win, I fuck you. If you win …” He turns and bends over in front of me, setting up his tee and giving me a clear view of his round ass. I have to hold back from reaching for it. “You finally get what you’ve been after.”

  “Deal.” The word drops from my mouth before I’ve even considered what he’s said. I’m too distracted by his ass. And then … oh hell. I agreed to let him fuck me. I shake off the weird love-hate I have going on with that thought and resign myself to win this.

  Beck straightens and meets my eyes over his shoulder. “So I might not have played mini golf, but Dad used to take me golfing every weekend.”

  “What?”

  His smile widens. “Yeah, I know how to handle … a club.”

  “You hustled me.”

  “Can you blame me? I’m a red-blooded guy, and you’re hot as hell.”

  I step closer to him. “I’m still confident. I have more incentive to win, and if I don’t, it gives me a head start on being a better bottom than you.” I’m glad my words come out more confident than I feel.

  “How about I give you some pointers to level the playing field. Balls in holes requires a lot more patience than what you’re used to. These holes are much smaller. You have to be gentler … You can’t just go barreling into the crease.” He lines up his shot. “Firm grip on the shaf—club, then give it a nudge.”

  He hits the ball, and it’s a perfect shot. Hole in one on the first go. I’m in trouble.

  “You know what, I think I’ve got a handle on things.” I try for a cocky smirk of my own. “I always do my research before I … play mini golf.”

  I mimic his previous stance. Strong grip, feet apart. I line up the shot …

  At first I’m worried I hit the ball too hard, but it does a quick loop of the hole and drops in. Yes.

  I shrug. “Beginner’s luck.”

  We retrieve our balls and move on to the next course.

  “So …” Something hitches in Beck’s voice. “What kind of research are we talking about?”

  “Very thorough research. Involving Wi-Fi, lube, and certain body parts.”

  Beck groans as he lines up his shot. I step in close again.

  “I’m gonna make you feel so good later.”

  “Pretty confident for a first-timer.”

  “Win or lose …” I lean in close to his ear. “I’m gonna make you blow harder than you ever have in your life.”

  He messes up his shot, and I burst out laughing.

  “Not fair,” he complains.

  “Step aside and I’ll show you how to fill a hole.”

  Hole in one. Again. This time I don’t hold back my smug expression.

  We keep taunting each other as we make our way around the course. I manage to completely throw Beck off enough that the score is tied by the time we make the final hole.

  “You go first,” Beck says. “And no talking while we take these shots. Fair game. Fair winner.”

  “So you can’t weasel out of the loss this time.”

  “We’ll see.”

  This course is trickier than the others, and it takes me three shots to get the ball in. It’s not bad, but it’s not enough to make me feel confident.

  Beck steps up to take his turn. I’m tempted to throw him off, anything to win, but I figure he’ll demand a redo.

  So instead, I stand there and wait for the end result, shamelessly checking him out as he swings.

  The first hit misses, but the ball ends up a foot or two from the hole. All he needs is a quick tap and it’s over.

  I guess I’m bending over tonight. My gut clenches at that, but then I look at Beck and decide it doesn’t matter. I know Beck won’t hurt me—no more than I want him to—and if I need to back out, he won’t make me justify myself.

  That thought brings me comfort as he swings again.

  And somehow completely overshoots.

  “Oops,” Beck says as he follows the ball.

  It takes him another two hits before he sinks the ball, and I realize I’ve won.

  That …

  “You threw the game.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beck says as he leads the way back to the exit.

  “There’s no way you should have missed that shot.”

  “Well, I did. And now you win.”

  I grab his arm and pull him to a stop. “Beck …”

  “Topher.”

  “Teddy Bear. You wanted to lose.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I hate losing.”

  “No, you like to win. And in this case, I don’t think mini golf was the game you were playing.”

  He steps closer until we’re toe to toe. “Someone thinks they’re clever.”

  “And someone wants the D.”

  “I am a D-man.”

  The way he’s trying to hold back his smile gives him away. God it’s a turn-on. Lust shoots through me as I think about finally sinking into his ass, but there’s something else there as well. Something that reacts to this cheeky dickhead and makes me grab his hips and pull him closer.

  “You could have just asked.”

  “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  “Hearing you beg me?” I pretend to groan. “Loads of fun in it for me.”

  “I told you I’d make you work for it.”

  “Totally worth it.”

  The flashing red and yellow lights from the fake windmill next to us plays over his face. I reach up to trace the pattern on his cheek.

  My throat feels thick as I lean down and press a soft kiss on his lips. His hands grip my shoulders, and our tongues come together once, twice, before he pulls back.

  “I thought I was supposed to be the cocky one,” he says. “We’re pretty out in the open here.”

  “Eh.” I kiss him again. Then as we turn to head back, I link my fingers through his. My heartbeat pounds the way it does before we take to the ice for the first game of the season. My gut is tied in knots.

  I tell myself, over and over, it’s because I’m about to fuck a guy for the first time, but that excuse is thin.

  Guy, girl, I’m long past caring.

  The only thing that matters in this equation is Beck. And that whenever I’m with him, I want him clo
ser.

  I blew him earlier, without caring if we were caught. I kissed him, in a public, semi-busy place, barely ten minutes from campus.

  He makes me forget to be careful.

  The asshole has made me like him, which months ago I would have assumed was impossible.

  I squeeze his hand tighter.

  I think I’m in trouble here.

  22

  Beck

  The urge to reach for Jacobs’s hand as we get back to campus kinda sucks. Because blowjobs and handjobs are one thing. This … this is … more.

  I’m up for it—in more ways than one. My cock is already hard behind my jeans which makes walking from the parking lot to our dorms mildly annoying, but not as annoying as not being able to do the simple act of holding his hand in case someone sees.

  The minute we step onto the elevator and the door closes, I take my opportunity. Our fingers intertwine.

  “Nervous?” Jacobs asks.

  “Does it feel like I’m nervous?” I move our joined hands over my crotch. Because I’m classy as fuck.

  It’s hard to explain why I’m not nervous. I should be. For more reasons than a dick in my ass sounds painful.

  I should be nervous about the guys finding out.

  I should be nervous about the bigger repercussions of what Jacobs and I have been doing—defining my sexuality and coming … out?

  Coming out sounds like the wrong term. It’s not like I’m Foster Grant. It’s not like my attraction to guys—or guy if we’re being specific—is a thing I’ve always known or even suspected. I’m not an LGBTQ advocate, and shit, before I met Grant, I was an ignorant asshole.

  It doesn’t feel right saying a switch flipped when Jacobs kissed me because I’m still the exact same person I was before I started seeing Jacobs in a different light.

  If someone told me to label it right now, I’d say, “I’m dating a guy, and I like it.”

  Is Tophersexual an identity? Because I’d be down for that.

  “Beck?”

  Jacobs’s arm holds the elevator door open, and I snap out of my distraction of trying to figure out what this is. Because the truth is, I don’t need to know all the answers right this minute.

  “Are you sure you’re not nervous?”

  I step past him. “Not about this.”

  I put my hands in my pockets so I’m not tempted to plaster myself to him until we’re behind closed doors again.

  Lucky too because Rossi comes out of his room as we reach Jacobs’s.

  Jacobs stiffens.

  Rossi looks at us with a weird expression, like he can’t comprehend why I’d be with Jacobs, but he doesn’t question it. “We’re on our way to McIntyre’s if you guys are interested.”

  I nod. “Maybe later.”

  “Sweet. See yas.”

  As soon as Rossi’s gone, I turn to Jacobs. I expect him to freak out, but he doesn’t.

  He grabs my shirt and pulls me into his room. “Quick, before any more of them converge.”

  I laugh as he closes the door and then slams me against it.

  “Is that how this is gonna go, is it?” I rasp.

  He pulls me forward only to turn and push me hard against the wall this time. “Yep.”

  I smile. “Think I’m not going to at least try to flip this around?” I spin us so he’s the one pinned.

  “You wouldn’t be Beck if you didn’t.”

  “Damn right.”

  I press my mouth to his, hot and demanding. I want him to overpower me and fight back, and he doesn’t disappoint.

  We wrestle our way toward his bed, losing our clothes along the way.

  By the time Jacobs manages to get me beneath him, we’re both writhing and breathing heavy.

  “Fuck!” he hisses and leans up on his knees in between my spread thighs.

  I reach for his cock, which is harder than granite with precum dripping from the tip. I want to sit up and lick it off, but Jacobs doesn’t let me.

  He presses down on my chest. “Stay right there.”

  “But—” I stroke him.

  He shudders and stills my hand. “I know I usually have more than one round in me, but I want your ass now, and if you keep doing that, I’m going to come all over you.”

  Damn, I want that. But I want him in my ass more.

  I go to roll over, but he stops me again.

  “Stay there. I got you.” Jacobs leans over the bed and pulls out lube and a condom from his desk drawer.

  Shuffling down the mattress, he stares up at me as he licks along my cock and then engulfs all of me at once.

  My back arches. “Shit.”

  He works me over with his mouth, and I don’t even hear the lube bottle opening, but then his finger is there, filling me in the way I’m getting more and more used to.

  I welcome the intrusion. Welcome the burn.

  But this time, he pushes a second finger in.

  It’s tighter, bigger, and a mini freak-out over his dick fitting up there causes me to pause.

  He senses it and lifts his head. “You all good?”

  His fingers move in and out of me, and I slowly adjust.

  I nod.

  Jacobs’s gray eyes stay on mine while he stretches me out. The intensity of his gaze should make me self-conscious, but it makes the whole thing hotter. His attention on my pleasure, making sure I’m comfortable, adds to what we have even if I still can’t label it or begin to define it.

  I do know sex has never been like this before. This close. This … intimate.

  I’m aware of his every move—his every breath.

  His touch is tender and mindful, but his confidence surrounds me and fills me with trust.

  Trust in him. Trust in us.

  Jacobs jerks my cock with his free hand while his fingers inside me work in time with his strokes.

  Every hit of my prostate loosens me up a little more until I’m not sure I can take it much longer.

  “I’m ready,” I breathe.

  “Are you sure?” He hits my prostate again, and I almost come.

  “Yes! If you keep going, I’m going to blow.”

  He grins and sits up, reaching for the condom.

  His fingers leave me, and I miss them already, but it is giving me a chance to compose myself.

  Maybe that’s not a good thing though, because as he lines up his dick and the head pushes past that tight muscle, I’m too focused. Too aware.

  Shit, this is gonna hurt.

  I fuse my eyes shut.

  “Hey, bab—eww, wait no.”

  My eyes fly open. “Huh?”

  He starts to laugh with his dick still poking at my hole which pushes him in a tiny bit deeper, and I wince again.

  “I was about to call you baby until I remembered that’s your sister’s actual name, and gross.”

  “And there goes my boner. Thanks.”

  Jacobs leans over me. “Trust me, I’ll get it back. You just need to breathe and relax, okay?”

  I eye him warily because right now he’s barely got the tip in and I’m thinking oh, hell fucking no.

  His hand goes between us, and he strokes my now only half-hard cock.

  Shake it off, Beckett.

  You have to beat Jacobs at something. He’s mastered BJs. Be the best damn bottom ever. Become one with bottoming. Be your carefree, fuck the consequences self and take dick like a champ.

  “Teddy, look at me.”

  I do as he says, and I get locked in his gaze.

  “Breathe.”

  When I do, I feel more of him move inside me. Only this time, I don’t fight it.

  “Like that. Keep looking at me.”

  His face is so telling, and I think I’ve found a new favorite expression—one full of lust. I’ve seen him scowl, I’ve seen him smile. Hell, I’ve even seen his turned-on face multiple times now, but this right here … there’s a controlled strength behind his hooded eyes.

  A strength I’ve seen on the ice.

  Jacobs eases
inside me and stops when he’s buried to the hilt.

  He hovers above me, and I can’t resist cupping the back of his head and bringing his mouth down on mine.

  His kisses are exactly the type of distraction I need.

  Our tongues tangle, and when he moans, my hips respond by lifting off the mattress and making him move inside me.

  “You feel amazing,” he murmurs, rocking into my body in small thrusts.

  “Duh.” I was trying for confident, but my voice cracks at the end.

  Not even a sexy croak, but a very high-pitched, unsure sound.

  I push through it. “Told you I’d ace this bottoming thing.”

  “Can I move properly yet?”

  Fucker. “You’re not allowed to call me on my bullshit when you’re inside me. It’s like, the law.”

  Jacobs laughs hard.

  “And now you’re laughing. Best sex ever, am I right?”

  “Maybe if you shut up and focused, we could get this thing going. Then we can decide if it’s the best sex ever.”

  “Me? Shut up? I think you’re forgetting—”

  Jacobs attacks my mouth, his tongue pushing its way inside and forcing me to be quiet.

  The best way to make me silent.

  We’re all groans and grunts, hard body against hard body, and when Jacobs does move again, I’m finally able to relax enough for him to go at a faster pace.

  My ass responds to every thrust, contracting and releasing, letting him in deeper and deeper.

  And when his big hand grips my thigh and lifts my leg to wrap around his waist, he hits my prostate.

  “Oh, shit,” I whisper.

  He hits it again.

  My feet tingle.

  I suddenly can’t catch my breath, and Jacobs picks up pace.

  I want to push him away and ask for more at the same time. It feels different but amazing, and I break into a sweat trying to take it all in.

  My face burns.

  Jacobs runs his finger down my face. “You’re hot when you’re all flushed.”

  “I’m always hot.”

  Jacobs laughs, sending a ripple through me.

  I need more. Or less.

  I don’t know what I need. All I know is I want Jacobs to keep going.

  I throw my head back, and Jacobs lowers his mouth to suck on my neck.

  He trembles above me. His big body is sweaty and heavy, and his damp hair tickles my skin.