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Power Play

Power Play Chapter 4


ZACH

The next couple of days I try to keep from thinking too much about Trevor, but I am losing the battle. He pops up in my thoughts in the weirdest ways. Pouring a cup of coffee, I think about him because he always yammers on about meeting at a coffee shop. The Student Union where he interrupted my lunch with friends reminds me of Trevor. The quad where he ran me down to return my pen— Trevor. The frat house where we kissed, the Leaning Tower of Pizza, the sports complex at the edge of campus— Trevor, Trevor, Trevor.

Not to mention when I soap up my cock in the shower. Ugh!

I am obsessed with him, and I know that it is all part of his diabolical plan, teasing me as I starve for his touch and pulling the plate away just as I am ready to feast.

On Sunday morning I sleep later than usual since I was up half the night wondering if he would stick to his plan to only kiss me on Tuesday and take it no further. That is just plain wrong. Hasn’t he heard that the Sexual Revolution was fifty years ago? And we won?

As I head to the University Library to find some place to study in peace, I stop at the Java Hut to buy coffee. The special of the day is a caramel macchiato, and that makes me think of Trevor’s liquid brown eyes and their thick crowd of lashes. Wondering how eyes that warm and gorgeous can cover a mind that is crafting devious plots to drive me insane makes me flash on an image of me tied naked to a bed, moaning with pleasure, while Trevor scores angry red welts into my bare skin with a leather crop.

Fuck! Where had that come from? That kind of kinky play has never interested me before, and now I am popping a stiffie in a coffee shop thinking about it as if further proof is needed of how unsettled he makes me.

I jolt from my reverie and order a large back coffee before fleeing from the store.

After studying as best as I can for most of the day I finally quit in disgust when I realize that I keep doodling little hockey players in the margins of my notes. I swear that if he doesn’t fuck me soon I will not be responsible for what happens. He is an inch or so taller and thirty pounds heavier, but I am way past motivated. With the element of surprise, I am fairly sure I can take him down and force him to have his way with me.

If the jury can just see his cocky, boxer-dropping grin, I am safe from conviction on the sexual assault charges on account of he drives me fucking insane.

On Monday, Trevor is not in the class that we have together because he is out of town for a road game. In the middle of the lecture, I slip my phone out of my pocket and, keeping it out of Professor Fowler’s view, thumb a text to Trevor.

—hey!

After a few seconds, he replies— hey urself

—class is boring ur not missing much

—awww! u miss me!!

—not what I said. do NOT go there

—2 late already there. did u pick where we go 4 dinner 2morrow?

—crab house ok?

—great. i’ll make a reservation

—gotta go. fowler’s giving me the stink eye. bye

—l8r

When I go home that night I know that something is up as soon as I walk through the door. The raucous conversations in the living room fall suddenly quiet, so I poke my head in there with some reluctance. Everyone is here… Rob and Rory; Justin and his girlfriend, Samantha; and Dan, our other house mate. They’re all looking at me as though I was about to do some card tricks.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” says Rob, far too casually to not be suspicious.

Right, I think. After grabbing a beer from the kitchen, I flop on one of the couches next to Rob. “What are you cooking up in here?” I demand.

“We’re not up to anything,” says Justin.

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? You stop talking as soon as I enter the room and all of you look at me as though I have three eyes. No bullshit… what’s up?”

“Well,” drawls Dan, “none of us have seen you for a couple of days because you’ve been holed up in your room, so we’re curious about what you’ve been up to.”

“Beyond the usual? Studying, sleeping?” I ask.

Justin adds, “You’ve been walking around all semester either scowling like you want to punch someone or in a trance like your thoughts are a million miles away.”

“Jeez,” I grumble. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Sorry if I’m bugging you.”

Rory pats my leg. “Ignore them, hon. It’s nobody’s business but yours. You don’t owe any explanation to Dan or Justin.”

My face is burning as I take a long pull on my beer. I cast a sideways look at Rob. “What is your contribution to this?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t repeat anything.”

Rory gasps, “You told something to Rob?” She pins him with a steely glare.

Rob rubs both hands across his face and hisses at me, “I told you that your little secret would get me in trouble!” To Rory he cried, “Honey, he made me swear not to tell anyone, not even you. He’s the evil one! I’m just his helpless puppet.”

She jabs a finger in his direction, “I’ll get back to you later.” To me, she said, “The cat’s out of the bag, Zach. Spill it!”

I groan. “Do you remember last week when we had lunch at the Grill and some guy stopped by to ask for my notes from class?”

“The hockey player?” asks Dan.

“Yeah. He kinda asked me out to dinner.”

“Kinda?” asks Rob.

“No, he definitely asked me out,” I clarify.

“Ooh!” says Samantha. “Super hunky! You said yes, of course.”

“Eventually,” I admit. “Tomorrow night.”

“You sly dog,” Rob punches me in the arm. “Where are you going?”

“The Crab House.”

“Fancy!” says Justin.

“And pricy.” Rob snickers, “Someone will have to put out after that’s paid for.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I say, feeling the heat in my face again.

“What’s up with all the blushing? That’s not like you,” says Rob.

Rory offers, “So of course, you know I’ll be happy to help you pick out something to wear.”

“No!” Rob snarls. “You’re not going anywhere near his closet or his… his… or anything of Zach’s.”

Dan and Justin look at each other, puzzled. “What the hell, dude?” asks Dan.

Rob yells, “The last time Rory helped him pick out clothes she had him standing around naked for about an hour so she could get an eyeful of his man parts.”

“Yikes!” Justin exclaims.

Samantha wails, “How did I miss this fashion show?” Justin glares at her.

Rory squirms away from the grip Rob has on her, objecting, “It wasn’t an hour, and my interest was purely professional… like a nurse.”

“Sure,” Rob retorts, running his thumb over her lower lip. “You have a little drool there just thinking about it.”

She grins at him, “Okay, yeah. Maybe.”

“I want to be included next time,” Samantha insists.

Rob snaps, “There is no ‘next time’. Zach can dress himself.” He eyes my ripped jeans and hoody. “All evidence to the contrary.”

I snicker, “Don’t hate on me just ‘cause you’re not man enough to keep your woman from looking for an upgrade.”

Rob looks from me to Rory and back again. “You two deserve each other.

“Honey, calm down,” Rory laughs. “Zach has no interest in me. Right, Zach? You haven’t changed teams have you?” She winks at me. “You know that you just have to say the word and I’m all ‘Rob who?’”

Samantha quickly jumps in, “I’ll take some of that action!”

Rob sputters, “You women are dangerous. We have to keep you away from Zach because he gets your hormones boiling or something.”

Dan says, “I’ve never said anything before, but…”

Rob howls, “Not you, too!” He grabs my shoulder, “What this power you have over everyone? One look from you and all they can think about is fucking you!”

I grin, “What can I say? I’m a sex god.”

Dan stares at us, wide-eyed. “Oh, hell no, jeez. That’s… ugh! No offense, Z.”

“None taken.” I laugh, “I guess.”

“No, it’s just I know what you mean about keeping a girlfriend away from the Adonis of South Philly there. Remember the girl I was dating last October?”

Justin asks, “Mandy? Mindy? Something like that?”

Dan nods, “Mindy, yeah. One of the many reasons that we broke up was that she was always hounding me to ask Z to join us in bed.”

“Wow,” says Rob, giving Rory the evil eye as she made a dramatic sigh next to him. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warns her.

Everyone looks at me. “Uh, sorry, bro. I had no idea.”

Dan shrugs, “Yeah, I just could not convince her that I didn’t think that Z was interested in her, and I had no interest in Z, again, no offense. Plus it would be like sharing a chick with my own brother.”

My face wrinkles up. “Thinking about my own brothers, just let me say…Ewww!”

“Exactly my point.”

Rory says, “Changing the subject now. You’ll need us to make ourselves scarce so you can bring him back here?”

“What? Why?”

“It can be a little awkward, going through a crowd of people before taking him up to your bed room,” she says.

I think for a second about whether to tell them the whole story or not, but then realized that these are my closest friends, so it makes no sense to hold back from them. “No need… he made it clear that the evening ends with just a good night kiss.’

Both Samantha and Rory sigh, “Oh! How romantic!”

“I think so sometimes, then I think it’s a little weird setting that up in advance these days.” The exact feeling escapes me. “It’s a little control-freaky.”

Samantha says pointedly, “Definitely romantic.”

Rob shakes his head in disagreement, “Definitely weird.”

Rory grabs Rob’s hand. “He’s courting you old-school. It’s very sweet and old fashioned,” she says.

Justin thinks for a second. “I can see that. Like how our grandparents dated.”

I remember the hot kisses the last two nights I saw Trevor, and the raw, knee-buckling passion behind the groping. No way to tell about Justin’s family but I seriously doubt if any of my ancestors experienced anything like that before the first date. Right now, I want to track Trevor down at his road game in New York to make out some more.

Rory giggles, “Look at that sly smile! Do we even want to know what you’re thinking about?”

“Um, no, you really don’t.”

Rory pouts, “Why don’t you look dreamy like that when you think of me, Rob?”

He turns to me to growl, “Dude, you are so harsh on my game these days.” To Rory he purrs, “Honey, I look much dreamier when I think about you. See, look.” He tilts his head and stares off in the distance for a moment.

Dan mocks him, “I don’t know… kinda looks not so much dreamy as like you need a laxative.”

With a look of distaste, Rory frowns at him. “I have serious second thoughts about you. Is that the best you can do?”

Rob punches my arm. “This is all your fault! Again!”

I lean over to him and tangle my fingers in his hair. Pulling him closer and looking into his eyes, I slide my tongue across my lower lip and drop my voice an octave to say in a deep, throaty rumble, “Awww, hot stuff! I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Rob stares at me with his jaw dropped, and after a few seconds of silence, everyone else howls with laughter. He jumps to his feet and points at me and Rory, blustering incoherently. He then looks to Justin and Dan, yelling, “When they put me on the one-way bus to Crazytown, promise me you will tell everyone it was these two fucking with my mind that sent me there.” Rory and I bump fists as he stomps off to the kitchen to get another beer.

Rory asks, “Zach, can Sam and I go through your closet to find you something to wear?”

“As long as I don’t have to be there, knock yourselves out.”

They leave as Rob returns from the kitchen. “You stay here where I can keep an eye on you, Tiger,” he tells me.

He studies me over the neck of his beer.

“What?” I ask. “You’re freaking me out.”

“And you’re holding something back.”

I flip the hood on my sweatshirt up over my head and slump deeper into the couch. “You know me too well,” I grouse.

“What is it? ‘Fess up to Dr. Rob.”

I scowl. “Trevor comes with a lot of scrutiny and I don’t know if I can deal.”

“What kind of scrutiny?”

“Everyone knows who he is and keeps track of where he is in the room. I’m not used to having everyone try to eavesdrop and watch my reactions. Kinda creepy. The other night at the restaurant, he must have had seven different people come over to talk to him. Not people that he knows… strangers.”

“You ask him about it?”

“Not in so many words, but it seems to be something that he expects as part of being the hockey star Trevor Wellman.” I pick at the label of my beer bottle.

“And you just want the hot Trevor Wellman.”

“Yeah… I guess.”

“It’s a package deal, my friend.”

“I know. Just freaks me out, y’know?”

“Ask him about it. He knows better than anyone how to deal with the fans.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“What else?”

“Like I said the other day, he hasn’t come right out and said it, but I have a good idea that he is looking for a serious relationship, and that…” I leave it hanging there.

Rob thinks in silence for a few moments. “You’re thinking about Matt, right?”

I touch my finger to the tip of my nose to indicate that he is correct. “That was a big old clusterfuck.”

Matt and I had gone out for a while last year. I was content keeping everything light and casual, but he pushed for more from me. The more he pushed, the more I retreated, with the inevitable massive meltdown at a party.

“It was, but you’re a year older and wiser.”

“Don’t want to go through that again,” I groan. “That relationship wore me down, but I don’t just want a wham! bam! hookup.

Rob shrugs, “Should be interesting.” He has a thoughtful look on his face.

“How so?” I ask.

“At the risk of being obvious, Trevor isn’t Matt. You won’t be able to push him around as easily. He’s gonna call you on your shit.”

“The fuck you say!” I yelp.

He laughs, “He already has you spinning in circles and you haven’t had the first date.”

“Ugh!” I moan, scrubbing my hands through my hair. “Some therapist you’re turning out to be. Don’t expect me to pay for your so-called ‘help.’”

He leers at me. “I’ll take it out in trade. Leave your bedroom door unlocked tonight.”

I punch his arm. “You couldn’t hang with me. By morning, your brain would be fried.”

“Serves me right for messing with the Adonis of South Philly,” he laughs.









TREVOR

The highlight of the four-hour bus ride to Ithaca to play Cornell is easily the text message from Zach. When my phone buzzes and I see the mopey photo I took of his face pop up the screen, I practically jump out my seat with excitement. The convo only lasts a couple of minutes, but my face hurts from the big grin I have the whole time. He lets me know that he wants to go to the Crab House for dinner, so as soon as he signs off, I look up the number so I can call for reservations.

“Can you give me one of the tables by the fireplace?” I ask them. The main room at the restaurant has a huge stone hearth, and it’s romantic as hell to sit close to it. When they confirm that one is available, my grin widens even more.

Once that is taken care of, as I jam my phone back in my pocket, I realize that Garrett, who’s sitting next to me, is shaking from laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“You!” he snickers.

“What about me?” I laugh in spite of myself.

“I’m expecting you to dislocate your shoulder patting yourself on the back.”

“Get the fuck outta here!”

“No, I think it’s great! You’ve had a long dry spell on the sex front, so seeing you move in for the kill is a good deal. Fuck ‘im and chuck ‘im, get your groove back.”

“It’s not like that at all. I’m serious.”

He scoffs. “Come on! You know your obsession is just because he’s making you work a little for a change. The thrill of the chase. Once you bag him, I think that you’ll lose interest.”

I grab a text book and slam it open. “I know you’re wrong,” I snap.

He snorts in derision and punches my shoulder. “Whatever, Casanova.”

I flip him off with a big grin and say, “You’ll see.”

“No, you’ll see.”

I try to study, but all I can think about is going to dinner with Zach tomorrow. The way that he kissed me at the pizza place, growling that I was not the one in charge… well that was just fucking hot. Garrett would never hear it from me, but he is partly right about one thing: The chase was definitely amping up the action. Zach keeps me off balance, and that is a welcome change of pace.

Garrett elbows me in the ribs. “You’ve been looking at that page for the last eighty miles… and that smile and all of the sighs you keep huffing are not because you are smitten with advanced statistics.”

“So?” I ask.

“It’s annoying me. Cut it out.”

I laugh, “Did I miss the memo where you were named Relationship Monitor?”

“You need one,” Garrett nods. “Might as well be me.”

“Uh, no thanks, Mr. Love-em-leave-em. I prefer something that lasts after the condom cools off.”

He threw he hands up and groans, “Kids today! Trying to grow up so fast!”

Across the aisle, Phillip Berrinau opens his eyes to give us a dirty look for interrupting his nap. “What are you two biddies squawking about now? I swear, you argue more than my parents.”

“Trevor here wants a relationship,” Garrett says sarcastically.

Phillip frowns and his eyes narrow. “With you?”

“No, not with me, you fucking moron!” Garrett roars.

Phillip shrugs. “Dunno. You two squabble all the time. Might as well get the make-up fuck to go with it.”

“I can’t even,” Garrett snaps. “No! With the waiter from the pizza place.”

Phillip scrunches his nose in thought. “I can see it. Does he have a sister? I’d hit that.”

“Older sisters,” I say.

“Ooh! MILFS,” Phillip grins. “Still interested.”

“I think that they are all married.”

“Even better!” he grunts. “No sweat off my balls if she ends up preggers.”

Garrett chuckles, “Until she gives birth to an eighteen-pound baby with a hairy back.”

Phillip side arms an empty soda can into Garrett’s chest. “At least I’m a manly man, you little pussy, and not some waxed diva like you two.”

“Leave me out of this,” I snort.

“Yeah,” Garrett coos. “Trev gets all hot and bothered thinking about your hairy back.”

I shove an elbow into him. “Don’t tell Phillip about my secret crush on him! You’ll make him nervous.”

Phillip says, “Nope. I’m okay with you, bro. It’s your buddy there that I don’t turn my back on in the shower.”

“Me?” says Garrett.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you hump a fire hydrant. No telling what my furry back would drive you to do.”

Phillip and I are both laughing while Garrett bellows a string of curses at us.

“Hey!” the coach stands in the aisle and yells from the front of the bus. “You three are seniors. Show a little leadership.”

“Sorry, Coach,” we chorus and then shut up.

We’re quiet for a while as we near the Cornell University campus. As the bus pulls up outside their arena, I lean into Garrett and ask, “Are we cool?”

He looks at me from the side of his eyes, and says, “I’m cool. Honestly, you’re a bit of a douche.”

I laugh and reach up to ruffle his hair.

He pulls sharply away. “Not The Hair. Nobody messes with The Hair.”

“Sorry. Forgot,” I say as he smooths it back down.


__________________________________________________


The bus is noisy with a post-game celebration for about the first half hour on the way back, but then the team settles down. Garrett falls asleep leaning agent the window in the seat next to me. Phillip is sprawled out across the aisle, playing a game on his phone. I have my stats text open in my lap, but no interest in reading it.

Phillip glances at me and asks, “What’s with the bitch face, Trev?”

“What?”

“Last time I saw a face that grumpy was when my thirteen-year-old sister found out that Justin Bieber had cancelled a concert.”

I shrug. “Just the usual. Lot on my mind”

“Worried about your friend?”

I turn to look at him. “No. Well, maybe.” I look to see if Garrett is awake since I don’t need another fucking lecture from him tonight. His mouth droops open, so I guess he is out. “I’ve put a lot of pressure on this deal tomorrow, maybe too much.”

“You’ll do fine. Just keep up your end of the conversation, and a word of advice?”

“Yeah?”

“Those of us who live this side of Framingham find a little of that Boston accent goes a long way.”

“Screw you!” I grin.

“Seriously, rein it in a little. You sound like a thug.” He thinks for a moment. “Wait! You’re from Boston, so you are a thug. Never mind. Carry on!”

“You’re as bad as Garrett here.”

Phillip scoffs, “Now you’re just being cruel and trying to hurt my feelings.”

“Whatever,” I grunt.

He leans across the aisle and says, “All kidding aside, you’ll be fine. He’s a hockey fan, right? You can always talk about hockey.”

“Not really,” I respond.

Phillip looks at me for a moment, and then chuffs out a breath before going back to his game.

“What?” I ask.

He looks back at me, chewing his lip. “I don’t want to add to your whatever-you-have- going-on-here,” he says quietly, “and let me know if I’m being an asshole, but that’s a big difference, your life mostly hockey and him not part of that at all.”

“Maybe,” I say reluctantly, not wanting to pursue this topic.

“Again, if I’m out of line, just say so, but a couple of years ago I was seeing this woman…” He swallows hard. “The sex was mind blowing. She was not one of those women who aren’t really into the whole blow job thing, y’know?” I nod at him. “Julie loved oral more than me almost. Hoovered my cock every chance she got.” He lapsed into silence.

“Cool story, bro,” I say after a while. “Thanks for sharing.”

“Sorry,” he smirked. “The point is that she had zero interest in hockey, which is a big part of my life. Wouldn’t come to our games, wouldn’t watch on TV, didn’t want to meet any of my team mates. Zilch. We were great between the sheets, but once we left the bedroom, not much was going on.”

“Yeah, I guess. Sounds rough.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t work that out with your guy, but without some intersecting interests, it’s that much tougher.”

I sock his shoulder. “Thanks. That gives me something to think about.”

Phillip leans his head back and closes his eyes. “You’ll be fine, Trevor. Just watch the accent.”

“Jerk!”

I think about what Phillip said for a while, and looking at my phone, I see that it is just after midnight, so I text Zach.

—awake?

He answers quickly.

—yes

—we beat cornell

—I know. listened on radio. 2 goals/2 assists. not bad hockey boy

Relief floods through me. Not only had Zach listened to the game, he paid attention to what I was doing. I look over at Phillip, but it looks like he is asleep already.

I quickly tap out —cant wait for tomorrow night

—me too

—i’ll be the one wearing the big grin

—i’m hoping a grin and nothing else?

—think you may be kind of a pervert.

—nothing kinda about it. ask me sometime about the fantasy i had about you at the coffee shop.

—yeah?

—not now. still trying to impress you

—mission accomplished

—lol. see you tomorrow

—good night

I click the phone off and close my eyes. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
 
Awesome chapter! :=D: ..|

Love the banter from all camps! :lol:

It'll be interesting to see what actually hits the pavement. (!) (!w!)

Thank You!, Buddy! MORE, Please! (group)

Keep Smilin'!! :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz :luv:
 
The banter of good friends hits on fun memories past. I'm rooting for both Zach and Trevor and it seems their friends are too. I look forward to a romantic dinner at the Crab House and maybe a little more....:-) Thanks, BD.

Craiger
 
Wow, another great chapter!! Can't wait for the date, thanks for keeping us on our toes, looking forward to so much more!!
 
i love going to bed reading this. can't wait for more, hopefully not too long
 
Power Play Chapter 5

TREVOR

Finally the day arrives! Tonight I will pick up Zach, and we will go on our first date. For almost six weeks, I pulled out every trick I have to persuade him to take this step with me, and it has paid off at last. I can’t get him off my mind (nothing new), and I walk around all day with a half boner (nothing new there, either).

Unfortunately, one of the intense winter storms that in the Middle Atlantic we call a Nor'easter has moved into the area with more than a foot of snow predicted for the day. Since most of it falls during the morning, by mid-afternoon the snowplows have been out clearing the roads, so my date with Zach is still on schedule. Since our reservation is for 7 PM, I told him I would be by to pick him up at about fifteen minutes earlier.

He texted me his address, but when I arrive, I can't find an empty spot to park in... most cars on the street have not been dug out from the snow. I drive around the block a couple times, but no parking spaces are open anywhere in the neighborhood because it is so close to campus, so I had to double park the SUV in front of his house.

I pop out of the vehicle just in time to see the door open and Zach bound down the five stone steps.

He takes my breath away, dressed in a dark gray wool suit with a black roll neck sweater under it. When he saw me he gives me a broad smile, and then his face hardens. He yells over his shoulder, "You hyenas get away from the window!"

I look at the front window, and between the horizontal slats of the blinds I see five pairs of eyes peering out at us.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

Zach looks at me and grins wider, shaking his head. He laughs, "Rob, Rory, a couple of other guys. They’re checking to see if I jump into your arms so they can gossip about it all night and then rag on me when I come home."

“Yeah?”

“Apparently the smart money is on I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

"Okay by me," I snicker. “I mean, look at this.” I wave my hands around to indicate that I am the total package. “That’s the way I've been looking at it anyway. How do I get in on this deal? I’ll put money on you getting a little handsy. To be brutally honest, I’m sorta counting on it.”

Zach shakes his head, "Get over yourself, hockey boy. You set up all your weird rules for tonight. Now we both have to live with them."

“Ugh!” I groan.

After buckling his seatbelt, Zach asks me, "Where we going after dinner?"

"It's a surprise," I tell him.

"Hmm, mysterious," he says. "But I am dressed okay, right?"

I leer, "Or overdressed."

"Down, boy," he cautions.

The Crab House Restaurant is about 3 miles south of campus towards Philadelphia on the river. Road crews have been working to clear the streets of most of the snow so it doesn’t take us long to drive there even looking out for slick spots and patches of ice. The parking lot is about half full, so we are able to park close to the door.

Inside, we are greeted by the hostess, a woman about 30 years old, long blonde hair, very voluptuous, who eyes us both very greedily. I’ll have to remember to mention her to Garrett: she is exactly his type, female and breathing.

The room has about 30 tables, each covered in a green and white tablecloth with a small bouquet of fresh flowers and an arrangement of little candles. The back wall is all glass windows overlooking a deck, now snow-covered, where in the warmer months diners can sit outside to enjoy the view of the river. Beyond that is the dark water of the Delaware River, with a narrow black stripe of New Jersey on the opposite bank, studded with twinkling lights. The quiet hum of the other diners’ conversations provides a nice backdrop for us, and the large stone fire pit in the middle of the room adds to the atmosphere.

I am aware that a lot of people are watching us as we cross the room. I walk a little taller knowing that Zach and I make a damned attractive couple.

The hostess shows us to one of the small tables ringing the fireplace. The gas flames are low enough that the heat is not uncomfortable.

“Adrian is your server tonight, “the hostess announces, giving us each the once over again, “and he will be with you shortly. “ She hands us the menus we sit down.

Zach opens the menu and starts reading through it, commenting, “Everything sounds delicious. I am sure I could eat the entire right side of the menu.” I can't take my eyes off of him. The soft candle light and the flickering shadows from the fire soften the angular planes of his face, and I am mesmerized by how incredibly gorgeous he is.

I am jolted from my trance as the waiter comes up to us. He says, “Janice told me that table seventeen looked like fun, and I have to say that she is right.”

Zach smiles at him briefly but is otherwise oblivious to the guy. The waiter studies him so carefully for so long that I am feeling a twinge of caveman jealousy. He turns to give me a smirk and a thumbs-up as he nods his head towards Zach. What the hell?

“Can I start with some cocktails for you?” he asks.

Zach says, “I’ll have a glass of the Pinot Grigio."

I say, “I'll have the same.”

“Very well,” Adrian tells Zach, ignoring me.

However,I still can't stop staring at Zach. He looks up to see me devouring him with my eyes, and asks, "What’s wrong? Do I have shaving cream or toothpaste on me?" He rubs his hand over his face.

“I like the scruffy look you usually have,” I admit. “This clean-shaven guy with the combed hair is different.”

“Different good? Different bad?”

"Oh, good, I think. You look so hot," I say. “I can’t imagine you would ever look bad.”

He nods in appreciation. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” he says.

“I can't believe we finally out on a date,“ I tell him.

“It did seem to be harder than it had to be for us to get together like this, “ Zach agrees.

“Can I just put it out there that all I want to do right now is throw you across the table and do all sorts of naughty things to you until the sun comes up?” I whisper.

His eyes become dark and hooded. “I’d be open to that.” Then he smirks, “What a shame that isn’t on your list of rules for me to follow.”

“You’re not going to let that go are you?” I ask.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” he grins. He leans closer and murmurs in a low, sexy growl, “My goal is to send you home night so painfully aroused that your balls are the size of grapefruit.”
I groan, “You’re more than halfway there.”

When the waiter returns with our drinks, Zach orders the crab and artichoke risotto, while I choose crab cakes and a baked potato. His eyebrows go up when he hears my order, and I ask him, “What surprises you?”

He smiles, "I had you pegged for a lean protein and steamed vegetable kinda guy."

"I have to stick to a pretty rigid diet for hockey," I confess. "We have a nutritionist for the team who gives us a lot of do's and don'ts. I stick to it as closely as I can, but I figure this is a special occasion, and I can afford to walk on the wild side for change."

Before Zach could respond, a man from another table comes up to us, an older guy that my experience tells me is a hockey fan. He beams at me, saying, "You are Trevor Wellman, aren't you?"

I stand up with a friendly smile to shake his hand, saying, "Yes, I am. Nice to meet you." I look at Zach but he has a blank, guarded look on his face.

The fan asks me, "Will we beat Rutgers next Saturday, do you think?"

"Absolutely!" I grinned. "Shut out. 8-zip. Guaranteed."

He says, "That's what I like to hear."

"We have to pay them back for last year," I say, "because the way they manhandled us was just plain wrong ."

"Exactly! If you boys play with confidence and spirit, I think you can go a long way this year. Maybe even all the way to the Frozen Four, do you think? " He turns to Zach and asks, "Are you on the team, too?"

Before he can answer, I say, "No, he's a friend of mine."

"Oh, okay. You fellows have a very good evening."

I sit down and rest my hand over Zach for second, saying, "Sorry about that. Just part of the game."

"No problem." He looks like he wants to say more but does not continue.

"And…." I prompt.

Zach chews his lip for a moment, and asks "How do you deal with living with this scrutiny all the time?"

"What you mean?"

"Someone always watches you or comes up to you or in some other way has a whole lot of interest in what you are doing every time that I have been with you."

"Okay, yeah, that happens. But you just have to accept that it is part being on a high-profile sports team. I get used to it, I guess."

Zach doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn't dispute what I said. I ask, "Does it bother you? You know, getting attention that is reflected off of me when we are together?"

"A little," he admits, and he blushes, which makes me think of how he would look flushed with passion, and I have an instant hard-on.

His hesitation worries me a little, so I ask "Does it bother you enough that you have concerns about us?"

He arches an eyebrow, wondering, "Oh? We're already an ‘us’, huh?"

I tease him, "You can't fight fate, dude."

"Fate?" Zach asks. "And now you’re my destiny?"

I say broadly, "Sure! I see it all worked out…our future, I mean.'

Looking at me with surprise Zach leans back, and resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, he temples his fingers under his chin, and asks, "Could you share this plan for the future with me?"

"Not so much a plan, as a vision."

"A vision?"

"Yeah, in about 50 years I see me with our children and grandchildren standing around your bed in the hospital where you are in the middle of a beautiful death."

He narrows his eyes at me in disbelief. "In your vision I'm dying?"

"We are all very sad about it, but we have had a long and happy life together."

Zach glares at me in amazement. "I can't believe this! Our first date and you are killing me off already."

I grin, "As I said, the children and I are very upset."

"That's another thing," he grumbles. "Where the fuck did all these children come from? I don't remember agreeing to any children."

Are you saying you don't want a family of your own someday? The 2.5 kids, the dog, the house with a picket fence, all that? The American dream?"

He takes a gulp of his wine, saying, "If you knew my family, you would know the answer to that."

I think about that for a moment. "That is a very ambiguous answer. Could go either way. However, I would like to meet your family."

"I'm sure you will someday." He grins at me, "One day in the far, far distant future. Maybe around my deathbed."

"Don't you have dinner with them every week?" I ask.

“Every Sunday," he says cheerfully, “whether I want to or not.”

"Maybe I'll go with you one Sunday. It would be fun."

"Yeah, fun… okay, " Zach muses. "Fun in the sense that having wolves rip your internal organs apart is fun."

I laugh, "It has to be better than that."

Zach shrugs. "No, it's worse. Wolves eventually lose interest and move on to another victim. My family just keeps circling, snarling and nipping, week after week." He laughs. "You'll see. I can't wait to take you. Soft little hockey player like you?" He scoffs, "You’re such a tasty tidbit, they’ll gobble you right up.”

The waiter brought our entrées. He made a big fuss out of placing Zach's risotto in front of him and positioning the plate just right. "Do you need anything else right now?" He coos to Zach, placing a hand on the back of his chair almost touching his shoulder.

I glare at the waiter as he leaves, and growl to Zach, "The food here is great, but the service is a little overly friendly."

He looks at me curiously. "Really?"

"It doesn't bother you that the waiter is blatantly flirting with you?"

Zach looks around. "The waiter?"

"Yeah. It's ridiculous the way he is carrying on. I might have a word with the manager."

"You might want to check the possession arrow, hockey boy," he teases me. "It's not pointing to you."

"Yet."

"There's that confidence!"

"I always have it! Changing the subject, this is delicious." I spear a mouthful on my fork and hold it out to him. "Try it."

He widens his eyes to ask, "Eating from your fork? That's a bit intimate, don't you think?" He leans forward in spite of his doubt to take the bit of crab cake I offer, adding, "That is good." Then he scowls at me, "Now I suppose you expect to be fed like a baby bird from my plate?"

"Cheep, cheep," I chuckle. He holds out some of his crab and artichoke risotto to me, and after I take it, he leans forward to brush his thumb against my chin.

"You had dripped a little sauce there," he tells me shyly.

I drop my voice to point out, "Now you're the one who's raising the intimacy ante."

"Unusual night all around," he mutters. “I’m not sure why I did that.”

I assure him, “It’s okay by me. I liked it."

As we eat, we talk about everything and nothing. The moment our plates are empty, the conversation is interrupted by the return of the flirtatious waiter. He kneels beside the table, smiling up at Zach with hungry, inviting eyes, scrubbing one hand across his short, buzzed hair.

"Can I get you anything else," he asks. "Coffee, tea, maybe the dessert menu?" The unspoken offering that I hear is my phone number?
Zach gives me a knowing grin over the waiter's head. I just roll my eyes, and say, "Nothing right now, thank you."

The waiter huffs a little sigh, "I'll check back with you in a moment," and he wanders off.

Zach says, "I'm not sure he's flirting actually, but he is working us for that tip."
I grumble, "Every time he comes to the table, his tip dwindles, and it's almost down to nothing."

Zach taunts me, "He's awfully cute. Maybe I should see what rules he has... keep my options open."

"You're gonna make me stand over you, beating my chest, grunting 'mine!' aren't you?"

"Scratch a hockey player," Zach laughs, "find a Neanderthal."

"Damn straight!"

As we walk through the parking lot after I settle the check, Zach smirks at me, saying, "I'm fairly certain that I could have gotten at least some hot three-way action with the waiter and the hostess without much effort. Count yourself lucky, hockey boy, that I'm leaving with you for nothing more than a kiss."

I lightly punch his arm, saying, "I know I'm lucky to be leaving with you, but just so you know were never coming back here again. I might have to fight for you next time."

He feints a couple of jabs at my jaw, growling, "Really? What makes you think you're not going to fight for me this time?"

"Bring it on, Philly. Give it your best shot."

As we get into the SUV, Zach asks again, "So where we going now?"



ZACH[/B]

Trevor just looks at me and grins every time I ask him the question, but he refuses to answer me. We drive back towards campus and eventually end up outside the Alumni Ice Arena, where the hockey team plays their home games. The parking lot is deserted, but it mostly has been cleared of snow. He parks the SUV next to a door at the rear of the building. I look at him questioningly, and he gives me that maddeningly cocky grin as always.

He's wearing a dark red sweater over a white dress shirt with black fitted jeans, and looks damned good. I kidded him a bit about his stupid rules, but every time I looked at him during dinner and saw how the fire light reflected in his honey-blond hair, I was ready to say screw it and drag him into a stall in the restroom to let nature takes its course, especially when he was so adorably jealous about the waiter.

Trevor knocks at the door, and after a few moments it opens. A man looks through and smiles at us, saying, "Right on time."

"Hey, Smitty," says Trevor. "This is my friend, Zach."

"Nice to meet you," Smitty says to me. "Listen, Wellman," he says to Trevor, "when you're done just turn off the lights and make sure the door is pulled closed. It’ll lock behind you."
Trevor says "I owe you, man.” They bump fists.

“Do you think you could get a couple of posters that all the guys on the team sign for my grandsons?" Smitty asks.

"Sure!" Trevor says. "How old are Mike and Sam now?"

"They are seven and nine."

“Wow!” Trevor says. "They grow up so fast, don't they? How about if I throw in a couple of jerseys?"

Smitty's face lights up. "That would be great."

Smitty shake hands with both of us and leaves the building, calling, “Good night. Have fun."

"Thanks again, buddy!" Trevor yells after him.

Once we are alone, he tells me, "My dad always said be nice to all the people who do the little things for you, no matter how low they are on the hierarchy. You never know who will be able to help you. Pay attention to the maintenance guys and the guards and the equipment manager. Remember their names and taken interest in their lives, not because of what they do for you but because it's the right thing to do. "

I can't hold back any longer, and as we walked down a long dimly lit corridor, I demand, "What the hell are we doing here?"

Trevor laughs, “What do you think?"

I grumble, "I'm afraid I might be a human sacrifice to the gods of hockey."

Trevor bumped his shoulder against mine and says, “That's only for the playoffs. During the regular season we offer up chickens and goats."

"Ha ha ha.” I say sarcastically. “Very funny."

"I'm giving you a skating lesson," Trevor says. "I tried to think of how to let you know who I am, and this is a big part of me."

He holds the door open to the locker room for me. I can only think that his ability to surprise me always surprises me. I would not have thought that a skating lesson would have been what he would planned for this evening, but it does seem to be almost perfect.

Just inside the locker room is a metal gate, like a grill, that opens to a room with spare equipment stored in it. Trevor fishes keys out of his pocket, and he unlocks the gate, letting me pass through after he turns on the light.
"What size shoe do you wear?" he asks.
"12 or 12 ½."

He searches through the shelves, and finding what he wants, pulled out a couple of boxes.
"Come on, newbie," he tells me. "You're on my ice now, let's get moving."

We step into the arena itself through the doorway that the players enter for games. We sit on a couple of metal folding chairs that are there by the wall circling the ice, and Trevor helps me put on a pair of skates. I stand up wobbling and unsteady, and Trevor grabs my elbow to keep me from falling down. He looks comfortable and at home, of course, and I am envious of his confidence, because I feel as awkward as a kitten walking on linoleum.
It's cold, of course, next to the sheet of ice, and a little spooky in the huge, silent arena.The lights are on over the playing surface but it is dark in the seating area where the fans normally are.

Trevor opens a door in the wall that runs around the ice and leads me onto the rink. The ice is even slipperier than thought it would be, but he holds me by both of my arms and is murmuring, "Steady… Steady."

"Uh, I don't really like this," I say with a little more tremor in my voice that I like to admit. "If you let go I'll be on my damn ass in two seconds flat."
"I won't let go," Trevor says. "You're doing great. Relax and hold on to me. I won't let you fall." Trevor keeps up a low and gentle patter as he skates backwards easily, even gracefully, pulling me along as I wobble and swivel across the ice. I feel awkwardly stiff next to him, but he seems to have me under control, so I start to relax a little and even enjoy myself.

"Zach, if you'll loosen up a little, you can release the death grip on my arms," he laughs. "I think you're cutting off the circulation in my hands."

"Sorry," I mutter. "I would hate for the imminent bruising of my ass to cause you any discomfort."

"Seriously, dude," Trevor tells me. "Your ass couldn't be in better hands."

We are starting to move across the ice a little faster, and my panic starts to return. I pull back a little, with predictable results. We both go down in a heap.

“Ow! “ I yelp. The ice is colder and harder than I expected. I snarl at Trevor and punch his shoulder, "I thought you weren't going to let me fall."

He laughs, "You sure are cute when you're angry."

He hauls me to my feet easily, and we set off again.

“Don't just let me pull you along," Trevor says. "Move your feet with little pushes. Left, right… Left, right… There you go."

"I feel like a doofus," I complain.

"No, you're doing fantastic," Trevor assures me. "Just breathe, and little pushes, left, right. You're not doing any worse and I did when I first started."

"Yeah, but you were three years old."

He laughs. "True. Keep going, nice and slow, little push left, a little push right, there you go."

I am getting into the rhythm of this skating stuff, swaying as I gingerly move my feet and Trevor pulls me along. As we speed up a little more I almost lose my balance again, but Trevor tightens his grip on me, and says, "I have you, baby. Don't worry."

We've almost completed the first lap and are coming around the curve part of the wall again when Trevor asks, "A little break?"

"Just a bit," I say. I grab the wall, relieved to be standing still.

"You getting the hang of it,” Trevor tells me. ”You look great."

I shake my head at him, “You make it look so easy"

Trevor scoffs, “That's nothing. Watch this." He takes off at top speed towards the far end of the arena skating easily and fluidly around the curve of the wall, the sound of his blades against the ice echoing through the empty seats. Just before he arrives back by my side he stops digging with his skates, gliding along for a few yards, and unexpectedly executes one of those jump-in-the-air-spin-around-a-few-times thingies that skaters do at the Olympics.

He pumps his fists and yells though a wide grin, “Yeah! Double toe loop! The kid still has it!”
My jaw drops as I marvel, "I didn't know you could do that!"

He slides next to me and leans up against the wall, tucking his hair behind his ears and saying, "My dad had me take figure skating lessons for couple of years to help with my footwork." Whenever Trevor talks about his dad his face is transformed.

"I wish that I could've met your dad," I say. "He sounds like a remarkable man."

Trevor's eyes look misty. "You would've liked him, I think, Zach," he tells me. "And I think he would've liked you, too."

"Let's try this again," I say. "Lead on!"

"This time, try it without me holding you up."

My head whipped around so fast I felt a pop in my neck. "Whoa! You're just throwing me to the wolves?"

"You're doing great, Zach," Trevor assures me. "Just trust yourself and take it nice and easy."

I laugh nervously, "I trust myself to end up on my fucking ass again." I am skating with short, choppy strokes, and my legs feel rubbery and wobbly, but I must admit that I'm having fun, and I make it all the way around the rink two more times with growing confidence, since I only wipe out once.

When we get back around to tunnel that leads to the locker room, Trevor throws his arms around me, laughing, "You're a natural!"

"A natural klutz on ice," I tried to scoff, but with his arms around me and his face so close my protest is little more than a breathless whisper. I could feel the heat radiating off his body as his warm caramel colored eyes bore into me. His full lips part, and his eyes drift down to my mouth.

"I have an early class," I say softly. "We better leave."

"I don't know," Trevor says. "I think I was promised a good night kiss."

"Later, Tiger," I whisper, "unless you're planning on saying goodnight and leaving me here in the frozen wasteland."

Trevor groans, "Okay, okay. When I take you home."

"Your rules, cowboy," I say.

He frowns for a second, but then asks, “Once more around? I want to try something else.”

“Now what are you up to?” I wonder.

He glides effortlessly around me and grabs me from behind, wrapping his arms around my chest. “Let me do the work,” he urges. “Lean back against me.”

Trevor pushes off gently, and we slowly start to circle the arena again. I rest my arms over his, and we tangle our fingers together. He rests his chin on my shoulder as I lean my head against his. The only sound is the swoosh… swoosh of his skates over the ice. All I have to do is to relax in the warm glow of Trevor’s embrace. The thought drifts into my mind that falling in love with this handsome guy would be as easy as sliding into a warm bath.

He asks, “What are you thinking?”

I reply, “That a guy could get used to this.” He groans and buries his face in my hair. “Hey!” I whisper. “Are you getting all pervy and sniffing my hair?”

“I can’t help it,” he mumbles against me. “You smell so good. Is it a problem for you?”

“Does it make you painfully aroused?” I ask

He shifts his hips so I can feel his hard-on against my ass. “Fuck, yeah!” he whispers.
“Okay, then. Continue perving.”

“Once more around the rink?” he requests.

“Please!”

After putting the skates away and turning off the lights, we leave the arena, making sure that the door locks behind us. As we walked to the SUV, I shyly take Trevor's hand in mine, saying, "I had a great time. Thank you for thinking of this."

He looks at me with his eyes shining. "I had a great time, too, Zach."

During the ride back to my house we don't say much, but I feel a contented glow. Trevor again double parks the SUV since there is no parking on the block and all the cars are snowed in still. This time he takes my hand as we walk up to the door.

On the sidewalk in front of the steps, we wrap our arms tightly around each other. I stare straight into his eyes, and they’re warm and languid. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock against my hip. Neither of us moves. We stand shivering a little in the cold night air on the quiet snowy street. At last, I say, "It looks dark inside. I think all the jackals have gone to their burrows."

"I want to kiss you so badly, I wouldn’t care if there was an audience," Trevor says. I move forward to close the distance between us and cover his mouth with mine softly, feathering my lips across his. He pushes back a little harder against me, and I let my lips part. I feel lightheaded, and my cock swells. When he slips his tongue into my mouth, I feel like I'm melting. I have one hand around Trevor's waist to hold his body against me, while the other one grabs a fistful of his blonde hair, close to the back of his head so I can tug him to a better angle to deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth wider, and my tongue plunges in.
Once again the contact between us explodes. I groan his name and pulled him even closer.
The kiss deepens, becomes hotter and wetter. It lasts forever, but is over too soon.

"Fuck" Trevor says. ""You are one hell of a kisser… and you have the most kissable mouth I have ever felt." He angles his head to kiss me again.

I pull back a little, whispering, "Don't start anything not willing to finish."

"What you mean?" Trevor asks me.

"I want to fuck you so hard, and my bed is only 30 seconds away," I say. "I won’t be happy if you leave now, but I understand if you want to take it slow." We both gaze at our hands as I trace an aimless pattern with my thumb across the back of one of his that I clutch tightly against my chest.

Trevor groans again, “It's not something I want to do so much as something I feel like I have to do…but you do understand, right?"

I force a smile, “Sure." I drop his hand and step back. “You know that I'm not happy about it, but I do understand. Horny but understanding, that’s me.” I grabbed his hand again and squeeze it, warning him, “Next time I see you, we play by my rules, Sunshine.” I reach up to caress his head, smoothing down the mess I had made of his hair.

"And what rules are those," Trevor grins.

As I unlock the door, I admit, "I haven’t worked them all out yet, but the first one is to always carry at least a dozen condoms and the large economy-size lube."

"I think I like these rules," he whispers in a raw, husky voice.

"You've been warned," I say as I close the door. "’Till next time."

He slowly walks back to his SUV and drives off. I watch through the window of the door until his taillights disappear around the corner.
 
What an awesome chapter, BD. As much as I understand the idea of going slow, I am also as excited as Zach. I wonder is the "hyenas" were watching the goodnight kiss. I look forward to the new set of rules for their second date....

Craiger
 
Another great chapter! I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation!! Thanks for writing such a great story, can't wait to see what is in store for our boys next!!
 
BluesDog, that was a terrific installment!
I love your details in both descriptions and the dialogue.
I am looking forward to more!
 
Oh my goodness!!! This story keeps getting better and better!!!
 
ZACH

The morning after my date with Trevor is full of weird contrasts. On the one hand, the weather is about as perfect as you can expect for this time of year. Yesterday’s storm has cleared the air, and under a high, brilliant blue sky, everything is sharp and clean. The bright sun is dazzling as it reflects off the drifts of yesterday's white snow. I, on the other hand, am fuzzy-minded and out of sorts. I drag myself to my early class, but poor Professor Chung could've lectured in her native Korean for all the attention I pay her.

I sit through the hour-long lecture, but all I can think about is Trevor, of course. Between classes I would normally go to library or one of the study lounges in another building and go through notes or readings for the next class because I am a grade whore like that. I am too restless today, so I head off-campus in search of coffee that is better than the brownish swill they serve at the Student Union.

I take a big gulp of strong black coffee as I step out of the Java Hut into the harsh morning light. The temperature is so frigid that clouds of steam rise off the cup. As I amble to the corner through the crowds of students, I feel revived by the jolt of caffeine, and my thoughts are not as unfocused as they had been, but they are all still about Trevor. He’s turned me into a tween girl, and he’s a whole boy band of obsession for me.

I wait at the corner for the light so I can cross the street back to the main gate of the university. A familiar black SUV with Massachusetts plates pulls up next to me. The passenger side window slowly slides down, and I see Trevor sitting at the wheel, looking hot as always and disgustingly fresh and alert.

He is wearing one of those puffy down-filled jackets with a neon purple and green nylon shell. I feel like something left out for the trash pickup, but with his opaque black sunglasses, he looks like he's ready to head for the ski slopes for a day of downhill.

We just stare at each other for a few seconds without saying anything. I gradually let out the breath that I had been holding. He hooks one finger in his sunglasses and slowly pulls them down his nose. In his warm brown eyes I see raw desire and an unspoken question that is as clear to me as if he had shouted it.

I swallow hard and blurt out, "But I have a class."

Trevor holds his hand out palm up towards me and wiggles his fingers a couple of times to make the universal sign for "come". His face is intense as he softly urges, "Skip it!"

"We can't miss Fowler's class," I argue.

He checks the clock on the dash. "Okay, that gives us four hours," he tells me. "We can scratch a lot of itches in that time."

Even with the caffeine, my brain is still sluggish, so I just stand there like a dolt until the driver behind Trevor leans on the horn a couple times. That jars me into action, and after slinging my backpack into the SUV, I climb in after it.

"My place is closer than yours," Trevor calculates. "Is that okay?"

I mumble, “Sure. Unless you're open to grabbing the next available parking spot and crawling into the back seat."

Trevor groans, “Don't tempt me."

We ride in a silence that is thick with anticipation and testosterone. Five minutes and a few turns later, we pull up to a large gate, and Trevor punches a code into the keypad. The metal gate slowly rolls open as he impatiently mutters, "C'mon, c'mon!" He grins sheepishly at me, saying, "I swear that damn thing knows when I'm in a hurry and slows down on purpose."

Trevor lives in a complex of modern condominiums built of stone, glass, and exposed wood that has enough expensive landscaping to make me wonder how students can afford to live here. I keep my mouth shut though as we park in front of one, and he cuts the engine.

I hesitate before getting out of the SUV to ask, "Should I just leave my books here?"

He smirks at me and snickers, "I didn't bring you here so we could study together. You can't be that naïve."

"Okay, I deserve that," I laugh as I get out of the SUV. "But you have messed with my mind, and I can't think straight."

Trevor grabs my hand to lead me to the front door, saying, "The last thing I want is for you to think straight."

I snatched my hand away and fake a punch to his nose. "Don't make me regret this."

"Sorry. Bad joke," he smiles as he opens the door. "Welcome to the pad."

The living room looks a lot like mine except that the furniture and the electronics are all a lot more expensive and in better shape: black leather sofas and chairs, tables made of aluminum tubing and smoked glass, a huge-ass TV that takes up most of one wall.

"Let me have your coat," Trevor tells me as he opens the closet door. After I shrug out of my leather jacket he hangs it up, and then hooks his ski jacket on the back of the door. "I live here with three other hockey players, and in the winter it's tough to find someplace to hang all the coats." He gives me a look of smoldering desire. "But you're not here to discuss my storage problems." He reaches up to tuck his hair behind his ears.

"Hell no," I grumble. "I'm here to do naughty sex acts like floppy eared rodents. Here on the couch?" I start to pull off one of my boots. “Is anyone else here?”

"Impatient much?” Trevor asks me with a broad grin. “Can you at least wait until we get upstairs to my bedroom?"

I run my tongue over my lower lip and squeeze my crotch, moaning, "Barely." I jam my foot back into my boot.

Trevor matches my moan, "Let's hurry then." He puts his hand against my lower back to steer me towards the stairs, and I feel a spark of electricity run through me. As I start up the steps Trevor pauses to stare at the thermostat. "I wonder if we should kick the heat up a notch?" he asks.

I grin down at him. "Dude, you're like twenty-two going on fifty. I think we’ll generate our own heat."

"True," he says as we start climbing the stairs again, "and my temperature is going up just watching your ass on the steps."

"Okay, that's better," I concede. "But still kinda lame."

He shoves me into the bedroom, and after looking around spies some underwear scattered around on the floor and kicks them under the bed. "Sorry about the mess," he says in a thick voice.

I shrug and chew my lip for a second, "No problem.”

We stand a foot or so apart there looking at one another in silence, and I see in Trevor's face the hot yearning that I feel. After about thirty seconds, I whisper, "Somebody has to make the first move." I plant my palm flat against the chest of his navy blue Henley and slowly let it trail down his torso. I feel that something changes between us, and I know Trevor feels it too. His eyes widen a bit, locked on mine. We lean together, inching closer.

"After weeks of dancing around," Trevor whispers, "I can't believe we are, you know, here." His tongue flickers out wetting his lip. I'm fascinated by it, but I don't think he even is aware he had done it. I reach a hand out to cup his face and run my thumb lightly over that lip. Trevor grabs my hand and kisses the palm. The light stubble that dusts his upper lip roughs up my skin.

Trevor leans closer, forcing me to look up an inch or two to account for the difference in height, until were so close, just inches apart, that I could taste the sweet mint of his toothpaste on his breath.

"Think of it as extended foreplay," I say, my voice raspy with want and need.

He chuffs a soft laugh, “Very extended."

I lose myself in those warm caramel eyes, depthless and endless. Beneath my hand I can feel his heart hammering as hard as my own. The scrap of distance between us closes, and our lips melt together. Fuck. At first it's a gentle exploration, slow and tentative. But then Trevor's fingers grasp the back of my neck, pulling me nearer, pressing and massaging hungrily. His mouth covers mine, pliant and eager and so damn soft. It feels… intoxicating, and my balls churn in response. I can't taste him deeply enough; I can't hold him closely enough.

I want to share the same skin with him.

I crush against his body, chest to chest, cock to cock, hips grinding and hands grabbing. Trevor returns every touch. He flicks his tongue across my lips, and the taste of mint intensifies. My mouth parts, inviting him in, and his tongue slides through as both of us groan with anticipation. I can feel my cock leaking precum, soaking my boxers.

Trevor falls back on the bed, dragging me with him, a moan escaping from me as our mouths break contact. He lies back on the bed, and straddling his massive thighs, I snarl my fingers in his hair on both sides of his head, leaning down to kiss him again. He tilts his head as I plunge deeper into his warm, wet mouth, sliding his tongue hard against mine. Trevor arches his back off the bed crushing his hips into me, and the searing heat I feel through his jeans draws another harsh, needy moan from me.

"I want you so fucking bad," I say as I pull back to look at his swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

Trevor reaches for my belt. "I'm here for the taking,' cause I want you too."

Knocking his hands roughly away from my waist, I growl, "No way, stud! Did you forget that we're playing by my rules this time?"

"What?" he asks, confused.

"My game, my rules," I tell him in a thick voice.

Trevor throws himself flat on the bed with his eyes closed and his fists clenched at his side. "Ugh! You're killing me!"

"I doubt that, but now you have some idea of what you’ve been doing to me the past few weeks,” I soothe as I unbuckle his belt. I pop the button on his jeans open and tease the zipper down the length of his thick, hard cock. His eyes fly open and he watches with interest as I roughly tug the jeans off his thighs and shove them into a tangle around his ankles. I kneel on the floor between his long legs to focus on a wet spot on his blue-gray briefs at the tip of his cock.

"But I want…" He starts to say as I thumb that enticing damp circle, chafing his sensitive flesh with the rough fabric of his underwear. Whatever he wants is lost in the low moan, "Oh, fuck."

"Tell me what you want, bro," I purr.

He grabs the hand that is teasing his dick and says hoarsely, "I want to…" but his voice trails off in a groan as my other hand encircles his thick shaft and begins stroking him hard two or three times. "Oh, fuck, oh, fuck." He scrubs a hand across his mouth. His eyes are wild. "Whatever you want. I'm yours." His chest is heaving as he pants, "so long as you know I'm not going to last long. It'll be like I'm fifteen again."

I hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and slowly slide them down his body. His cock catches the fabric for a moment, and as it pulls free, it falls back against his abs with a meaty thwump! Both of us make throaty growls at the sound. I start to drool as I stare at his long, thick erection.

He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Don’t rush me!” I plead. “I have jerked off a totally pathetic number of times since New Years’ fantasizing about this sight. I want to savor the moment.”

Trevor flops back on the bed muttering to himself as I push his underwear down to join the knot of denim snarled around his ankles. He works his legs around trying to free himself, but I grab his calves, saying, “Nope! Leave them there.”

“Why?” he asks warily.

I grin, “You’ll see.” I start to pull off the black knit beanie I am still wearing.

“Wait!” Trevor barks. I look at him with curiosity. With a sly grin, he admits, “I’m kind of a fan of the hat now. Can you leave it on?” He licks his lips. “Please?” I return the grin as I pull the beanie down around my ears.

Half on and half off the bed, he arranges a couple of pillows to prop up his head so he can watch me. I kneel on the floor in front of him, easing between his legs, determined to lavish as much attention as I can to delay his orgasm. I nibble and lick my way up his body, aware that his skin is twitching every time the stubble on my jaw scrapes the tender flesh of his inner thighs. Just as I near his heavy balls hanging like ripe fruit, I veer off to nip at a hip bone.

“Oh, fuck me!” he moans as he grabs a fistful of my hair through my hat. “How about you drift a little to the left, huh?”

“You think?” I ask as I kiss my way in that direction. I bury my nose in the thick pad of golden curls at the base of his cock. He smells of newly-mown grass and leather, some kind of sandalwood soap, all on top of a musky Trevor smell that makes my boner throb. My cheek scours against his shaft making it twitch and jump. With one hand snaked up inside his shirt fingering his abs and one massaging his quads, I can feel his body tighten as my breath ghosts down the length of his cock.

Circling his stiff erection with a couple of fingers, I pull it away from his body and flick my tongue against the slit to collect the shimmering pearl of sticky liquid there. Trevor groans, “Jeez!” as his hips tremble beneath me. I take his length into my mouth, thinking that he tastes as good as he smells. I pull free of him with a little pop! and lock my eyes on his face as I give the head of his cock a deep, hot, wet, kiss, swirling my tongue across it. A soft whisper of my teeth scrape against his shaft, and as he bucks his hips up, I draw him deeper again. The heat radiating off of him burns my face, and I feel him fighting about the clothes tangled around his legs. With one hand I jerk his shaft as I lick his knob, and with the other hand I caress one of his ankles to settle him down a little.

Trevor tosses his head against the pillow, every muscle tensed against the sensation, both hands thrust inside my beanie and tangle in my hair to pull me closer. Between struggling to keep his legs in place, and the way that he is tugging fistfuls of my hair, and the thrusting of his hips to ram his cock through the back of my skull, the fight for control starts to be painful.

“Zach,” he moans loudly, “oh, fuck.” The open pleasure in his voice eases my discomfort, so I can draw this out. As his hard, muscular body arches off the bed, his lean hips pump his cock into my mouth, and I can suck him deep and hard. Suddenly I change gears to attack him gently and sweetly with light kisses and flickering tongue. Again deep and hard, again slow and easy. Trevor is groaning a stream of curses that would make a whore blush, and I reach up to finger his balls. As soon as I started rolling them around inside their silky skin, he grabs my shoulder, moaning, “I’m coming, Zach. Oh, fuck, I’m coming. He tries to withdraw from my mouth, but I hold on tight to his thick shaft to take him deeper. I look up at him as he digs his head into the pillow again, and with a long, shuddering breath, “Fuck”, he comes as his body shivers with the release. His cock throbs against my lips, and the hot spurts jet over my tongue.

I rise up to look at his face. His eyes are still closed, but his chest is heaving. When he opens his eyes, he has to blink several times at the ceiling before he can look at me. Then he has to blink several more times before he can focus on me. A slow, lazy grin takes over his mouth. “Holy. Shit.” he sighs. “That was… wow… I think you broke me.”

“So you enjoyed that?” I ask.

“Hell yeah!” he says. “I thought that you kiss wicked cool, but that…” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t figure out the bit about the jeans around my ankles, but the harder I strained against it, the better it felt.” Trevor pulls me into an embrace. “Where did you learn that?”

I shrug, “I have four older brothers.” A startled look crosses Trevor’s face. “Oh, jeez, you pervert!” I laugh. “One of them told me about it. I’m from South Philly, not Alabama.”

TREVOR


Zach may be amused that I thought for a second that he perfected his blow job technique on one of his brothers, but I flash on an image of me in a bed with several men from the DiPasquale family, and it feels like a hot scene for an insane moment. He is howling with laughter.

“Shut the fuck up!” I laugh. “It’s not that funny.” I lean towards him, watching as he turns suddenly serious, cradling the back of his head to pull him in for a kiss. More hot urges boil hotly in me as Zach traces my lips with his tongue.
His hand burrows between my legs, and finding my dick hardening again, he whispers into my mouth, “Back so soon?”
Groaning, I push his hand away, “I’m still a little tender down there, so let’s work you into the act.” I angle my head for deeper access to his mouth. He tastes of coffee and cinnamon toothpaste. His skin smells of clean masculine sweat over a little of the soap that he uses. I moan as he catches my lower lip between his teeth, but I pull free and plant a row of light kisses down his jaw and neck. I pull away his sweatshirt so I can I nuzzle where his shoulder arches up into his neck, whispering softly, “I love this spot.” I kiss and nibble at the skin there, warm and velvety. Plucking at the neck of his shirt, I ask, “Can I take his off?”
I laugh at his terse response, “Mnhnmh”, and tug it over his head before I strip off my own shirt. I finally kick off my jeans as I reach for Zach’s belt. He toes off his boots and his socks, and I quickly drag his jeans and his boxers free, tossing them to the pile on the floor. His cock, long and fat, curves up from dark, closely trimmed hair. I run my fingertips across the sharp stubble there, grunting in appreciation.

“What can I say? I’m Italian.” he murmurs. “If I don’t take a weed-whacker to the shrubbery, my pubes go from my knees to my navel.”

Cupping his heavy, smoothly-shaven balls, I say, “I like it. Very clean.” I continue to gently caress his cock as I lean to mouth one of his nipples. Zach hisses as I lick and gently nibble it, feeling it stiffen into a hard little nub beneath my teeth. The hiss deepens into a moan as I scrape his other nipple with my thumbnail. He continues to moan as I drag a fingertip across the slit on his dick, cleaning away the drop of precum oozing there. I lift the finger to my mouth and flick my tongue against it to taste. I look into his eyes, hooded and heavy with desire. Their normal color, a sunny aquamarine like a tropical lagoon, is gone, replaced by something darker and denser, more like an Atlantic harbor on a stormy January day. “What now?” I ask. “I’d love to take you with my mouth.”

His voice is thick and deep. ”No, I need you in me.”

I grin as I turn to the bedside table to root around in the drawers. I fish out a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube. “Not quite a dozen or the giant economy size that you demanded last night, but it’ll get us through the next few hours.” Throwing an arm around him to pull closer, I ask, “Your rules. How do you want it? Slow and sweet?”

Zach growls harshly, “No! Hard and messy. Leave me with an ache to remind me of you tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” I question. He nods. Something breaks loose in my chest, and I hiss, “You make me want you more every minute I am with you.”

“Good,” he rasps out. “Because you drive me fucking insane.”

His hungry eyes watch me as I squirt a glob of lube from the bottle .I stretch out beside him, tangling our legs together. Reaching beneath his balls, my slickened fingers trail across the tender flesh, and I expect him to tense up as I slide into the crevice and near his hole. He doesn’t fight me, but rocks his hips against my hand. I smear the gel around the entrance for a few seconds before easing one lubricated finger in. Zach clamps onto me as I slide around to stretch him. I make myself go slowly to get him ready so he could enjoy it.

His groans sound like pleasure, but he still feels very tight. “Doing okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he gasps. “Another finger? Please?”

I slowly push a second finger into his hot core, and he immediately locks down tightly on me. I watch his face for signs of pain, but he is giving out all the right signals. Scissoring my fingers inside of him and twisting them around, I manage to curl back against the knot of nerves there. Zach’s eyes roll back, and his arches up off the bed, digging his fingers into my shoulder. “Oh, right there,” he hisses. I keep stroking my fingers in and out of him, returning to that sensitive spot again and again. He always has the same responsive reaction. As his body shivers with desire, he grabs my wrist and says, “I want you in me now!”

I must not have moved quickly enough for him because he pulls himself free of my hand and snatches a foil packet to rip open with his teeth, dropping the condom in my hand. “Okay,” I say. “I like a bossy bottom,” as I unroll the latex over my cock.

“Then you’ll love me ‘cause I’m all about control, “he snarls. “Enough chit-chat, hockey boy. Get to work.” He rolls on his back, lifting his ass to give me access. After I lined myself up, I slowly push in a inch or so at a time as Zach slowly exhales. He is so tight that it feels like my cock is held by a fist. When I am most of the way in, he suddenly sucks in a ragged breath, “Wait! Hold on!.” His face is tense, but his body is very still.

I freeze. “Are you hurting?”

Through clenched teeth, he growls, “Just give me a second to get past this first burn.”

I wait. “Do you want me to pull out?”

“No,” he says as his eyes shift to mine.

“Would it help if I tell a story to distract you?”

Zach shudders out a half-laugh-half-whimper and groans, “Stop, you jerk!” With a small smile, he continues, “I should have known I would take a donkey cock up the back door today and been better prepared.” His face suddenly relaxes and the grip around my cock eases. Breathing normally he sighs, “Okay. I’m good to go.”

Supporting myself on my elbows, I rock gently at first, gasping as the hot, greedy clamp of Zach’s body pulls me deeper and deeper. “C’mon,” he urges in a needy voice. “Take me hot and hard.” I squeeze my eyes closed rather than look at his beautiful face so that I don’t climax right away. With a moan of pleasure, I snap my hips to bury my cock deep in his ass.

Zach pushes against me, begging for more. With his legs braced against my arms, he is positioned so that I can hit the sensitive clump of nerves with almost every thrust. “Harder!” he begs between little cries of bliss. “Fuck me harder!” He has my hips in an iron grip, pulling me deeper and faster into him. I grunt with every push, growling from deep within as I lose control. Zach greedily takes everything I have, demanding more and more from me. I slam into him so hard that the bed feels like it is moving across the floor. Every breath is harder to take as I strain to find more to give him.

“Trevor,” he gasps hoarsely. “I…” With a long, moaning curse, Zach arches off the mattress and strains against me, erupting in climax as long ribbons spurt over his chest. I cry out as the heat and pressure of his body pushes me over the edge, clutching wads of the sheets in my fists as the tight coil within me snaps free. Waves of heat wash over me, but I shiver all over. I am almost too spent to withdraw from Zach, but I roll off of him.

I stare at the ceiling for a minute, not able to muster the energy to even turn my head. I finally do mutter, “Fuck!”

“Yeah,” he whispers. I blindly grope for his hand and lace our fingers together.

We remain still for a few minutes as our breathing steadies and slows. With a groan, I flop off the bed and pad into the bathroom to discard the condom. I bring back a damp cloth and gently clean the sticky mess off of Zach’s torso before crawling back into bed with him. We stay quiet, eyes locked for a bit.
I ask, “What happened to the beanie?”

He palms his head a couple of times and chuckles, “I think you fucked it right off of me.”
A vulnerable look in his eyes creates a tingle in my crotch and in my chest. As I open my arms in invitation, his face brightens and he scoots into my embrace. Wrapping my arms around him and tangling our legs together, I rest my chin on the top of his head, smoothing his unruly curls with a hand.

“I knew it!” I snort.

“What?” he asks.

I tweak his nose gently. “You’re a snuggler.” He grunts in confirmation. “I am, too,” I whisper into his dark, curly hair.
 
Geeze! ... WOW! ... Holy ... GEEZE! ... Wow! ... :bj: :gaysex: :wow:

If your fingers are as talented at other things, as they are with a keyboard ... Geeze! ... WOW! ... Holy ... (!w!) (!)

And ... FINALLY ... perfect timing!! ..| :-< (group)

THANK YOU! for that Awesome chapter, Buddy, and the build up to it! :kiss: (*8*)

MORE, Please ... :gogirl:
Chaz :luv:
 
Sensuality in its finest. Wow! My heart is pounding as hard as Zach's and Trevor's. Lost my breath there for a moment as well. Though the chase may have ended, the intensity is growing by leaps and bounds. Thanks, BD.

Craiger
 
Oh Wow, that was so worth the wait!!! I am on edge and looking forward to more!! Thanks for such a hot story, can't wait for more!! Thanks for writing!!
 
I found this story late and have just caught up. I loved when you wrote of the romance and I loved when you wrote of the sex. This is a really good story and I am glad that I found it. You are a good story teller.
 
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