My gaze flitted back to Max surrounded by a pack of inner-city kids playing hockey in the middle of the street. He was sweaty and tired, yet he laughed as loud as any of the poor children on that blacktop. Hardly any of them knew how to play hockey, but they were quick learners. Max had incredible patience and endless good humor. He was so different from the man who cruised the ice just looking for someone to knock ass-over-tin-cups. He filled my heart with things I’d thought I would never feel again. Things that made me giddy and hard and scared and kind of forgetful.

  “Benton, the dogs?”

  “Oh hell, right, sorry.” I felt the blush creep up my neck. Aunt Glenna clucked her tongue, then fell into amused laughter. “Okay, fine, I might have been watching Max out there.”

  “He does look good in shorts and a tank top, but Lord the man needs some sun.” She pattered off to check on the guests at this impromptu cookout. “Guests” meaning everyone in the neighborhood and “impromptu cookout” meaning block party to celebrate the Railers moving on to the conference championship against Florida. One more round, and they’d be playing for the Stanley Cup. I was so proud of Max, and his team. It was so exciting to be a part of the inner clique, even if I did make for one funny sort of WAG.

  Aunt Carol appeared on my left, chewing on a carrot stick. “Don’t leave them on too long, Benton. No one likes them burned.”

  I looked down at the old woman beside me. “Who exactly is wearing the apron that reads B-B-Q KING on it?” I tapped the apron tied around my waist with my tongs. “Yeah, that’s right. Me. So go worry over something else.”

  “You’re a sassy-ass today.” She snorted and poked me with her carrot before wandering off to socialize.

  I loved those two old women. They’d set this whole thing up and never once let it slip to me. That was impressive stuff, because there was nothing my aunts liked better than gossiping. Well, aside from sticking it to the man, that is.

  “How are the hot dogs coming along?” I was ready to snap at whomever was asking about the dogs. I was the barbecue king. I knew how to roast a wiener. “Or is that a bad thing to ask?”

  “No, sir, it’s a fine thing to ask.” I smiled at my pastor and hoped thinking bad thoughts about him wouldn’t get me on the wrong side of the Lord. Pastor Bert—and yes, Bert is his last name; his first name is Alabaster—was a tall man, lean, gray-haired, and always smiling. He’d lost his wife of forty-nine years two years ago, and so now everyone who attended the Rose of Beulah Baptist Church was trying to find him a girlfriend. Kind of how they’d tried to find me a boyfriend after Liam had died.

  “I take it everyone is worried about the hot dogs?” he asked, mischief in his eyes.

  “You could say that.” I chuckled and rolled the dogs over.

  “People do like to nose around,” he commented as his gaze went to the kids and Max playing on the blocked-off street. “I was glad to see your new friend at services. He seems a fine man.”

  “Yes, sir, he is that.”

  “You do realize he’s welcome in our house of worship any time?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. And thank you for always being open to me and others in the LGBTQ community.”

  Pastor Bert smiled at me, and you could see the love for his work right there in his eyes.

  “Benton, the Lord loves all his children. As his servant, it would be an affront not to love them all as well.” He patted my shoulder then leaned in. “Besides, I’m hoping to maybe get a few tickets for the youth group for a game next season.”

  That made me laugh out loud. “I’ll have Max tell someone to call you.”

  “Thank you. Don’t be late for choir practice next week. I’m off to check out the baked goods. Clara Miller said she was bringing her famous chocolate cake. I am a weak man in the face of chocolate cake.”

  I hoped he kept that weakness to himself. Clara was a widow and a prime candidate for new girlfriend material.

  Max and the kids all whooped. Someone must have scored. His gaze found me across the yard and among all the neighbors. There was fire in those stunning eyes of his. I stared at him for the longest time, until someone shouted that the hot dogs were on fire. Then I attended to the cooking and not my man. I’d have to attend to him later.

  As soon as the door to my house was shut, I was attending to my man. And Max, it seemed, was all about being attended to.

  I pressed his back to the wall, the fridge kicking on beside us. “Sitting there all night and looking at you and not being able to crawl all over you was torture.” I shoved that sexy damn tank top up to his chin, my fingers slipping through the curls on his chest while my lips settled over his mouth. Max was hard and ready, his hands coming up to cradle my head as I ground my dick against his. I plucked at his nipples as he sucked on my tongue.

  “Thank goodness DK asked to spend the night with Carol and Glenna,” he panted between hot, wet kisses.

  “I paid him five bucks to stay the night.” I shoved my hand into his shorts.

  “I gave him twenty.”

  We both softly laughed, then broke apart long enough to rush to the bedroom. Bucky had gone to bed in his crate all by himself. He lay there, head on his paws, tail gently thumping his thick cushion.

  “You’re a good boy,” I whispered. I gave him a treat, then closed and locked the crate. Max was waiting for me by the stairs, wearing a tender smile. He offered me his hand. I took it and led him to my bed.

  Once we stepped into my room, things sort of changed. The air around us shifted, or maybe it was a subtle change in our auras. Hell, I don’t know what it was, but there was a softness about the way we touched and tasted each other that I’d not felt before. His hands reverently moved over my skin, his mouth brushed my neck.

  “What do you want from me tonight, Ben?” Max slipped between my legs, caging me, hands on either side of my head, his cock like a branding iron resting beside mine. “Tell me what you want from me.”

  There were a million things I could have said…perhaps should have said. I could have told him I wanted him to love me and not just fuck me. I should have told him that I wanted him to care about me as much as I had grown to care about him.

  “Wake up with me.” That was all I dared to say.

  He kissed me breathless, then folded my legs up and across my chest, hooking my ankles, allowing his cock to slip down over my balls.

  “I’d love to wake up with you,” he replied, the words thick with desire. I let my eyes drift shut as he tore open a condom packet then pumped some lube into his hand. Hearing him coat his cock sent a ripple of white-hot lust through me. “You ready for me?”

  “Lord, yes,” I panted as I clawed at his sides.

  He slid into me in one long, smooth thrust. When he was as deep as he could go, he pressed my legs more firmly to my chest and began moving. He flicked his hips quickly—short, deep drives that stole my breath while pushing me far too rapidly to a climax. Damn the man, he knew just how to move, how to pump those hips of his, how to fondle my balls and stroke my cock.

  “Is this what you need from me, Ben?”

  “Yes…yes…yes.”

  My orgasm hit me hard. I arched up, fell back, and shouted his name. His right hand held my kicking cock, his left kept my legs pinned to my chest. I came all over my lower abdomen and calves. Max ground into me. I yelped at the depth and the pressure. Then he tumbled over his own summit, his growls of completion making me shudder. He dropped my cock and fell beside me on the bed, his cock sliding out of me. Straightening my legs was painful yet glorious.

  Max said nothing for the longest time. I slid from the bed to find a dirty shirt to clean off with as he took care of the condom. He reached for me when I returned to the bed, pulling me to him. We lay looking at each other. I thought I could see it in his eyes. That emotion that we all searched for. That glowing feeling that lyricists wrote songs about and poets waxed eloquently over. I knew I was feeling it. I thought I was feeling it. Maybe I was just seeing the love growing inside me for this man reflected in his eyes. Perhaps I was projecting, or it might be wishful thinking.

  “You okay?” he asked a moment later. I nodded and smiled and brushed away all that sentimental stuff. “You look funny.”

  “That’s my lingering orgasm face,” I quipped. “You look funny too.”

  “Can’t help that, I was born with this face.”

  That made me snicker. “I like your face.” I wiggled closer, and he draped a thick arm over my shoulder.

  “I like your face too.”

  Work was one thing that kept my mind off missing Max and the constant concern over Rolf. The man had been too quiet. I suspected he was biding his time to drag out the torture. I’d even called one of the cops I knew and discussed the situation with him. Unless DK was willing to press charges, they really couldn’t do anything. His advice had been to be careful and call if he showed up.

  That sat there on the back-burner in my mind like a rancid kettle of lamb stew. Sadly, I didn’t even have Max there to help ease the disquiet.

  He and the Railers were resting, ready for the first two games of the conference championship against Florida. Thankfully they were starting at home, but we didn’t meet up. We talked as often as work, practice, and the press corps would allow. The media pressure was insane. So far, I’d managed to stay out of the limelight, and that was okay. I’d only seen my name linked with him once on a small sports blog DK had pointed out to me.

  I had no issue with being seen at his side. I’d come out long ago. I’d been married and openly run Crossroads with Liam. So, the thought of cameras in my face was nothing that worried me. It was just the intensity of the media and the fans as the teams battled to the final round. Some of the stuff I read online aimed at the players horrified me. And the vile hatred thrown at Tennant Rowe because he loved a man saddened me deeply. I would never understand how those who claimed they were children of Christ could warp the words of a man who preached love into such twisted hate.

  The shelter had been inundated with new intakes. We now had so many kittens it was hard to find room for them all. Four dogs had been rescued, one in such bad shape there was no saving the starving little thing and our vet had kindly put him down. We had a little poodle mix who had been so dirty and matted we’d had to shave her down to the skin. She’d be a hard sell to people without her pretty brown curls, so that meant she’d be here for quite some time. I spent another hour after closing trying to make the money stretch far enough, but it just wasn’t happening.

  “Dammit all.” I sighed, pushing back from my desk. My eyes were scratchy, my back stiff, and my heart heavy. We’d need to put on another major fundraiser to cover costs next month. Since we had so little cash in the coffers, I’d have to dip into my savings for some of the necessities, like advertising. Bucky wiggled up next to me, his blue eyes questioning. “I wish I’d been born rich instead of so damn good-looking.”

  His tail wagged merrily at my joke.

  “Let’s go check on Cocoa, then go home.”

  Bucky raced to the office door then ran to the kennels. I left him outside despite his sad looks. New intakes were kept away from other dogs for a reason.

  Cocoa—who was not very cocoa-colored without her fur—scrabbled across the tiles, tiny butt wiggling and bare tail whipping. She seemed comfortable enough. Thank God it was late spring and not winter. Poor tiny thing would be freezing.

  She bounded after the treat I tossed into her kennel, ate it, and curled back up on her cushion. Bucky glared at me when I exited the runs.

  “Sorry, you’ll be able to visit her soon.” I snapped his leash on and led him outside, locking the door and engaging the security system.

  Bucky sat beside me, tongue lolling, snout out the window, enjoying the wind in his face. If only life were as easy for us humans. I really missed having someone waiting for me at home. I missed sitting down to a meal with a man who asked me how things were going. Those little things were massive when they were gone from your life. A gentle reminder to pay the water bill, to pick up some milk.

  “Do we need milk?”

  Bucky sneezed, filling the incoming air with dog snot.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Pulling up in front of our row of brick houses, I saw the lights were off at my aunts’. There was a school board meeting tonight. They’d probably dragged DK with them to that. They liked having him chauffeur them around. Truthfully, DK driving eased my mind a bit. Both of my aunts had dinged several cars in the past year. And I kind of hoped he was with them, because I loved the kid, but my mood was sour tonight, my back bowed with worry about work and the want of something more in my personal life. A warm meal, a cold beer, and a long shower might help lift the blues. I spied my running shoes in the closet when I hung up Bucky’s leash. A run. Yeah, that might help. Bucky and I could go over to Wildwood Lake, work up a good sweat, and maybe take a break on the same bench Max and I had had a sort-of date on.

  I liked that idea a lot. After a quick change into running shorts and a Railers tank top—my friends back in D.C. would never forgive me—and a note slid under my aunts’ door telling them where I was and when I hoped to be back, I loaded Bucky back up and we were off.

  As soon as I felt the crunch of gravel under my sneakers and the twinge of thigh muscles responding, I knew this had been a good idea. Sure, it was hot, and I was already sweating, but sweat was good. Sweat was worry leeching out of your pores. Bucky jogged along at my side, happy to be active. Dogs like him weren’t made to lie around in offices all day. I was a bad doggy daddy as well as a crummy boyfriend. If I was a boyfriend at all, which I didn’t think I was. Max seemed to be in no hurry to commit. Should I drop a hint? Maybe I should ask him out on a date. A real date. Not a sex date. Something romantic. Sweat ran into my eyes as we ran past the wetland area, the song of tiny frogs warming up for the nighttime concerto filling the humid air.

  My legs burned and my lower back was tight, but I was starting to feel better. I would ask Max out. On a dinner date. In a restaurant. With other people. And I would hold his hand and tell him I not only liked his face, I kind of loved it. Then we could go home and have sex. Yeah. Smiling despite the tug of my hamstrings complaining, I rounded a corner, and there stood Rolf, leaning against a thick oak tree.

  Had he followed me to the park? What possible reason could he have for being at a random park the same time as I was?

  I skidded to a halt, Bucky tight to my side. Seeing Rolf there, with the shadows of the setting sun falling over him, I thought I was seeing a ghost. Liam and he looked so alike they’d been mistaken for twins a few times. Anger and fear welled up inside me. I tightened my grip on Bucky’s leash. The dog began to whimper, unsure and upset about the dark feelings flowing out of me.

  “Are you following me?” I panted. He rolled a lip. How could anyone mistake him for his kind, loving, caring younger brother was beyond me. You could see the hatred in his light blue eyes. “DK is not going back home.”

  “As if I wanted the bastard back under my roof. You’ve probably already turned him, just like you did Liam.” He never moved, just stood there, nonchalantly leaning on that damn tree, appearing to be just a guy talking to another guy should anyone run past.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want what’s mine. What Liam was going to leave me until you wormed your faggot ass into his head and twisted him up.”

  I sorely wished I could keep my emotions under control as Rolf was doing. Aside from the burn of revulsion in his gaze, he was as cool as that proverbial cucumber. Handsome, yes, and unassuming in manner.

  “What kind of shit are you talking here?”

  Bucky growled low in his chest. I did not tell him to stop.

  “I want half of Liam’s assets. Just like I would have gotten if not for you turning him.”

  My mouth dropped open a bit. What assets? The only thing he’d had was his half of the investment in the shelter, and that had become mine when he passed away.

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  A young woman ran past. Rolf smiled warmly at her. She nodded back.

  “Pretty, huh? Oh yeah, that’s right. Your kind don’t like tits and pussy.”

  “I’m done with you. If you want money, get a loan. You’re not getting shit from me. Liam and I were married. Legally. Everything that was his became mine. And what was mine would have gone to him if I’d died.”

  “You dying. Yeah, that can be arranged.” He threw my snarling dog a murderous look, then ambled off, the lowering sun making his shadow long and distorted.

  The sweat beaded up on my neck slithered down my spine, chilling me. Had he just threatened me? I stood there for a long time, staring at where Rolf had been, shivering despite it being close to eighty degrees out. That bastard had just threatened me.

  “Sweet Jesus,” I mumbled, fear gripping me tightly around the throat. I dug into the pocket of my running shorts and called the person I needed to talk to the most. Max.

  Chapter Ten

  Max

  We’d agreed not to meet up tonight. The day after tomorrow was our first game against Florida, and Tampa Bay were coming off a full seven-game battle to get to this round against us. I’d made the very adult decision of resting up tonight, and promptly missed the hell out of Ben. I’d watched some shit film on Netflix, too wired to watch something good, too distracted to stand up and get the remote control, which had fallen off the side of the sofa and out of my reach. Ben had actually bet me that I couldn’t go one night without sex; the amount on the table was ten dollars. I wasn’t going to lose.

  Practice today had been odd-man rushes; we were shit-hot on those, and Stan still hadn’t let anything in. As a team we were positive, and there was a cautious excitement in the room. I could focus on hockey, think about hockey, anything not to think about Ben and sex.

  Still, I wished Ben were there, or that I was at Ben’s because he had this way of calming me down and centering me. Of giving me a purpose outside hockey that wasn’t just sex.

 

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