20. Dj

CHAPTER 20

DJ

I sit on the bench in the locker room, methodically wrapping ice packs around my aching knee.

The sharp pain that flared up a few days ago has stayed at a manageable level thanks to my diligent recovery routine—rest and ice at every opportunity. Hell, I've even been avoiding any unnecessary strain during sex, though that thought makes me smirk to myself.

My mind drifts to flashes of last night with Sydney—the sultry look in her eyes as she undressed me, the silky touch of her hands on my body, the breathy moans escaping her lips...

"Yo DJ, what's good bro?"

Jason's voice snaps me out of the erotic reverie as he strolls into the locker room with a few other teammates.

I quickly rearrange my expression into an easy grin. "Oh you know, just the usual. Getting ready to dominate out there."

"Hell yeah, that's what I like to hear!" Gabe chimes in, clapping me on the shoulder. "But hey, you sure you're good, man? Saw you limping a bit at practice yesterday..."

The others exchange worried looks.

"Nah, I'm all good, just tweaked it a little. Nothing that'll slow me down," I assure them, flexing my leg for emphasis and taking care not to wince at the dull ache.

The last thing I need is the team knowing I'm hurting and making a big deal out of it.

"Alright, if you say so," Jason says, looking me over skeptically. "Just don't push it too hard out there."

I keep my voice light as I steer the conversation to safer territory. "No worries, I got this. Now let's focus on what really matters - we're gonna wipe the ice with the Kings today, yeah?"

The guys whoop and holler their agreement, and soon the locker room is a flurry of activity as everyone gets into game mode. I keep icing my knee while the usual pre-game rituals and pep talks swirl around me.

After 10 minutes, I unwrap my knee and slowly flex my leg, relieved to find that the movement produces nothing more than a dull throb. It'll have to do. With the crucial game against our biggest rivals coming up, I can't afford to let this injury hold me back.

Failure is not an option, especially not with so much on the line.

From the moment the puck drops, energy buzzes through the arena, charged with bitter history: The Vortex aren't ranked well and yet beat us horrifically last time we matched up. The whole team is hungry to regain our pride by delivering a victory today.

I snag the puck and weave between two defenders, my skates carving the ice in decisive slashes. With a flick of my wrists, I send a crisp pass to Lukas streaking up the left side. He catches my feed in stride and snaps a wrist shot that beats their goalie over the blocker.

The red goal light ignites, and the crowd erupts as we take an early lead. Damn, that felt good .

I pump my fist and holler at Lukas, "Beauty, bro! Right where I wanted it!"

He grins back at me through his cage. "Put it on a platter, DJ! Keep ‘em coming!"

The Vortex try to answer back immediately, coming in hot off the next faceoff. They gain the zone and their top winger rips a heavy one-timer, but Tyler slides post-to-post like a big cat, snagging the puck out of thin air.

A moment later, he kicks out the rebound of a point shot, staying big and square to the shooter. The puck deflects into the corner and we clear it out to relieve the pressure.

I feel a surge of pride watching my boy in his element, anticipating each play before it develops. Dude's in straight beast mode .

Not gonna lie, it puts some decidedly un-teammate-like thoughts in my head about what else those lightning reflexes might be good for...but I shut that down real quick.

Eyes on the prize, DJ. Plenty of time for scoring off the ice after we put this game away.

The clock ticks down, each second an eternity. Sweat drips into my eyes as I dart across the ice, my knee screaming in protest. But I can't stop now. Not when we're this close.

"Come on DJ, you got this!" Tyler yells from the goal, his voice cutting through the din of the arena.

I catch his eye and nod, a silent promise. Then I'm off, intercepting a sloppy pass from the Vortex's defenseman. The puck settles onto my stick like it was drawn by a magnet.

The eyes of the crowd are on me as I weave through the opposing players, their shouts fading into white noise.

One defenseman left to beat .

My knee twinges again, sharp and insistent.

Gritting my teeth, I push through the pain, juking left before cutting hard to the right. The defenseman bites on the fake, his momentum carrying him out of the play.

It's just me and the goalie now. I can see the whites of his eyes, wide with anticipation.

Time seems to slow as I wind up for the shot, the puck rocketing off my stick. It sails through the air, a black blur against the stark white of the ice.

The red goal light flashes. The horn sounds. Pandemonium erupts.

"FUCK YEAH!" Jason bellows, throwing his arms around me as the rest of the team piles on. We're a tangle of limbs and laughter, adrenaline and elation coursing through our veins.

In that moment, nothing else matters. Not my aching knee, not the grueling schedule ahead. All that exists is the pure, unbridled joy of victory.

Amid the team huddle Tyler finds me, his hand lingering on my back a beat too long, and a different kind of heat blooms in my chest. Our eyes meet in the chaos, a charged look passing between us.

I lick my lips, tasting salt and anticipation.

Yeah, I know just how I want to celebrate this win.

After changing out of my skates, I realize that Tyler's nowhere to be seen in the raucous locker room. A man on a mission, I slip out discreetly and begin methodically checking all the spots he likes to frequent. And in the equipment room, there he is.

Alone, stripping off his pads. Our eyes lock and the air sizzles between us.

I don't hesitate. In two strides I'm on him, my hands grasping his face, my lips crashing into his. He groans into my mouth, kissing me back fiercely.

God, the taste of him. The heat. It makes my head swim.

We stumble backwards, a tangle of desperate limbs and roaming hands. I nip at his lower lip and he shudders. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me closer. He's rock hard through his compression shorts.

Ty suddenly flips us around and shoves me against the wall. His eyes are molten with lust as he yanks my pants down.

Holy shit. Is he really going to...?

"I've never done this before," he rasps out. "But I want to. I want you on my tongue, DJ."

Then he's on his knees, mouthing me through my briefs. I let out a shaky exhale, my head thudding back against the wall.

Tyler Simmonds is about to suck my cock. The hottest goddamn goalie I've ever seen is on his knees for me.

He tugs my briefs down and I spring free. Ty looks up at me from under his lashes as he takes me in hand. The visual alone nearly does me in.

Then his perfect lips are wrapping around my tip and I swear I see stars. He starts bobbing his head, taking me deeper into his mouth each time.

"Shit, Ty," I groan, barely able to form the words. "So good, baby."

My hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly. He moans around my shaft, the sound vibrating straight to my core. For a first-timer, he's a fuckin' natural. Eagerly licking and sucking like he's starving for it.

For me.

Ty reaches up to roll my balls in his palm as he picks up speed. Hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue. It's sloppy and messy and incredible.

My orgasm builds, my abs clenching. I'm not going to last. Not with Tyler Simmonds worshiping my cock like it's his new religion.

Breathless, I gasp, "Ty, I—I'm close, man."

His eyes flick up to meet mine, lit with a wicked glint that says he knows exactly the power he holds right now. He doubles his efforts, drawing me even deeper.

Everything narrows down to just this: the pressure building, Ty's relentless mouth, and the ferocious need clawing at my insides.

It's almost too much—too intense—and yet, not nearly enough.

"Fuck, Tyler—" The words are a strangled moan as I hit my peak, my vision blurring. His grip on my hips is sure and strong, grounding me as I shudder through the climax.

There's a pause where the world stops spinning and all I can hear is my own ragged breathing. Slowly, Tyler eases back, letting me slip from his lips with almost reverent care. Eyes still locked on mine, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a pleased look in his eye.

"It was alright?" he asks, a little self-conscious.

I draw him up to me for a rough, breath-stealing kiss, tasting myself on his lips.

"You're a goddamn prodigy," I mumble between kisses, my hands roaming over his broad shoulders and down the sinewy muscles of his back.

He responds with a low chuckle, pressing me back against the stacked crates of hockey equipment.

A sharp edge digs into my back, but the discomfort fades fast as Tyler's hands slip under my shirt, tracing the ridges of my sore muscles. The heat from his fingers burns my skin, igniting a fire that runs rampant through my veins.

"DJ," he murmurs against my neck, his breath hot and heavy. He bites down gently, and I can't help the moan that escapes me. My hands find their way to the top of his shorts as he continues to mark my skin with his lips and teeth.

"Your turn," I whisper against his ear, my voice hoarse with desire. Tyler grins, his eyes lighting up in anticipation.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands still caressing my body as if they can't get enough. "Anything you want," he says, and there's a challenge in his tone that sends another jolt of arousal straight to my cock.

I spin us around, swapping our positions without breaking contact. He watches intently as I kneel in front of him, mimicking his earlier actions with deliberate slowness, yanking down his shorts and freeing him.

His breath catches in his throat, and the sound alone is nearly enough to drive me wild.

Looking up at him, I give him a sly smile before I take him into my mouth. Tyler lets out a low groan, his hands finding their way into my hair, guiding me deeper. I set a rhythm that has him gasping, teasing and taking in equal measure.

It doesn't take long for Tyler to be whispering my name, his hips bucking slightly as he struggles to keep control. I hum in satisfaction. I've got him exactly where I want him .

My tongue swirls around him, drawing out all the sounds I love to hear from those lips.

He tenses, his grip on my hair tighten. "DJ," he breathes out, a warning or an invitation—I take it as both.

"Come on, Ty," I coax, stroking him with my hand. "Let go for me."

And as soon as my mouth envelops him again he does. With a broken groan, Tyler's control snaps, and he surrenders to the sensation, his climax overtaking him in a delicious rush. Gradually, I ease him through his release before rising back to my full height and pulling him into another searing kiss.

His arms wrap around me tightly, nearly lifting me off the ground, before he pulls back to meet my eyes.

"That was unbelievable," he says softly, his gaze open and sincere. "You're unbelievable."

The words warm me more than any post-game shower could. We stand there for a moment longer, holding each other in the afterglow.

What a damn perfect day.