3. Bryson

This was not me.

Not kidding. My sex life was a void or at best, a party of one—me, my trusty dildo, and the occasional slide into online porn. I hadn't been with a man in over a year, and that had been more of a hump-and-grind session in a parking lot with a realtor I'd met at a conference in Burlington than a meaningful encounter.

Years ago, JC and I had fooled around, but that was more or less a case of two friends who respected each other and valued privacy and discretion. The sex had been good for sure—not special. Maybe that was timing. I'd had Jake to think about and a growing business. I hadn't been ready for a relationship and truthfully, we'd had no real spark. And now JC was a happily married man, so it was never meant to be.

I'd dabbled in online dating after Jake left for college, and that had been a comedy of errors. I'd met some truly odd gentlemen—none of whom were even booty-call candidates. They were momentary distractions akin to trying a new series on Netflix. If you went in with low expectations, you might be pleasantly surprised. And if it didn't work out, it was coffee or dinner with a stranger. No big deal.

But climbing Smitty Paluchek like a tree was a big fucking deal. He was a pro hockey player who knew one of my closest friends…and my son. Jake had gone out of his way to lament how much he hated the man I was currently wrestling out of his T-shirt. Maybe his angst was incensed by Smitty's on-ice smack talk, but Jake wasn't a fighter and I'd witnessed him spiral into a raging lunatic in public all because of this guy.

Smitty tugged my shirt from my jeans and splayed his huge hand on my back, trailing his fingers along my sides and humming into my mouth as our tongues twirled and twisted. I grazed my thumbs over his nipples, loving his responsive shivers and groans. He deepened the kiss and fumbled with my belt. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly, flattening my palm over his length.

He broke for oxygen, panting as he glanced at my fingers curled around his erection through a layer of cotton.

"Is this okay?" I asked, unzipping myself with my free hand to avoid passing out.

"Yeah, it's so fuckin' good."

Smitty's reverent tone made me smile.

"I can do better," I purred, sinking to my knees.

He leaned on the wall, mumbling a litany of unintelligible curses as I slipped my thumbs under the elastic of his boxer briefs and lowered them. His gorgeous cock sprang free and bobbed in the air, nearly clipping my chin. I sat on my heels and dabbed at the corner of my mouth 'cause I was damn sure I was drooling now. He was a specimen of male beauty in his prime. Everything about Smitty was thick and beautiful…including his dick. And his balls.

God, I couldn't wait to get my hands on him.

I traced the angry vein from root to tip and smeared the bead of precum on the wide mushroom head, teasing him with a light touch. Smitty growled somewhere above me, but I ignored him. I needed to explore and worship him properly. I hadn't been on my knees for anyone like him in far too long.

I cupped his balls as if testing their weight, then wrapped my fingers around his shaft, stroking him with leisurely pulls.

"Oh, my…fuck." He raked his hand through my hair and tilted his hips. "Keep going. Do whatever you want. I'm…this is good. So good."

I tightened my grip and upped the tempo, loving his nonsensical babbling. "So good, fuck yes, oh, yeah." The thrum of his deep voice was a turn-on, spurring me to give more, do more.

So I did. I hovered my lips at his crown and flicked my tongue at his slit before opening wide to swallow him whole.

Holy shit.This was heaven. I'd missed giving blowjobs so damn much.

I bobbed over his pole, twisting my wrist and jacking him as I worked him over. I sucked with gusto, covering every inch of him with my lips, my mouth, my tongue, my fingers…me. I wanted him to remember this, and I wanted the satisfaction of knowing I hadn't lost vital pieces of myself altogether.

I took a breath and released him to shove my jeans over my ass and hopefully give my rigid cock some attention. Smitty stopped me with a hand on my forehead.

"No more?"

"I'm not gonna last if we don't slow down. C'mere." He licked his lips and pulled me to my feet. "I gotta touch you."

He captured my mouth in a searing kiss and reached for my cock. I gasped at the contact, and inched away to watch the show as he pressed our flesh together and stroked us in unison. The contrast of rough friction, hard steel, and his soft lips brushing my temple was enough to light me up.

I could have come right then and there, but I was greedy tonight. If there was any way I could have more, I was going for it.

"Fuck me, Smitty. I want your cock."

He went still for a beat, nodding like a puppet with a faulty string. "Yeah, yeah."

Thank fuck.

"Bed," I grunted, pushing him into the room.

We undressed in a rush and fell onto my bed in a tangled mess of limbs and lips, humping and grinding. We rolled sideways, kicking off the covers with our mouths fused, my arms around his neck, his hands on my ass. I shoved his chest playfully and straddled his thighs, pinning his wrists to the mattress. His gaze took on a dreamy sheen that gave me a boost of courage.

I tweaked his nipples and slid down his body, licking a path along his abs to the gorgeous V-line framing his cock. I settled between his legs and resumed stroking him. Smitty propped his head on a pillow to watch the show, bending his knees to give me room.

"Suck me some more," he commanded.

No problem. I dove in, reacquainting myself with his dick, sucking, licking, pumping, and doing everything in my power to make him wild with need. I thought I was doing a decent job of it till I flicked my tongue under his sac and sort of, kind of accidentally grazed his entrance.

He tensed and tugged at my hair.

"No rimming?" I dragged my bearded jaw over his length and kissed his tip.

"No, that's not it, but…I don't bottom. Not that I would never do it. I just thought you wanted?—"

"I do." I smirked as I jacked his cock and waggled my brows lasciviously. "I want this beast inside me."

Smitty didn't crack a smile at my over-the-top bedroom hijinks. Damn, I was making him nervous. I didn't want that. I didn't want this to be something either of us regretted.

He licked his lips and nodded. "Condom?"

I rolled off the bed. "Don't go anywhere."

I hurried to the bathroom and rustled through my toiletries for supplies. Traveling with lube and condoms was a true testament to my relentlessly optimistic nature. I squinted like a nearsighted squirrel to check the expiration dates on both, but the numbers were a blur. Ugh, I needed my glasses to read the fine print.

Forget the bad jokes. Nothing screamed "dad" louder than a gray-bearded naked man looking for his readers. Then again, nothing quite killed the moment like a hole in your rubber. I caught my reflection in the mirror, stroking myself as I weighed the embarrassment factor.

Screw my pride—safe sex for the win.

I padded into the room and made a beeline for the tortoise-rimmed readers I'd hooked on my discarded shirt pocket. I set them on my nose, pointedly ignoring my guest as I read the fine print. Phew.Good to go.

"Holy fuck, keep those glasses on," Smitty growled, sitting up quickly. "Just when I thought you couldn't possibly be any hotter, you hit me in my weak spot."

"You like the glasses?"

"Fuck, yeah. Get over here."

I widened my eyes and handed over two condoms and a small bottle of lube. "I, uh, wanted to check the expiration date."

"Smart." Smitty chuckled softly and motioned for me to lie down. He uncapped the lube and scooted close. "Listen, I'm rusty as hell here so if I do anything you don't like, tell me and I'll stop."

"Okay." I tore the latex wrapper open and set it on my stomach. "Are we done with the glasses?"

"No chance. The glasses stay." He poured lube onto his fingers and bent to suck my cock while he fingered my hole.

Tension rolled away as I settled on the pillow and enjoyed the show. There was really nothing quite like watching a man intent on pleasuring you. Especially someone unexpected like Smitty. I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe how much I wanted him. And I couldn't believe how good he was at this.

He glided a single digit through the tight ring of muscle, experimentally pressing in and out as he licked my shaft and teased my crown with his talented tongue. My enthusiastic groans must have spurred him on. He added a second finger and pushed deeper, and oh yeah, that was my prostate.

"Oh, fuck. Yeah, that's it. Right…there," I grunted.

Smitty glanced up at me, his lips resting on the tip of my cock. "Can you take another?"

I nodded, steeling myself against a stab of pain. It hurt, but it was the kind of hurt I loved. I wanted more of this. Much more.

"I need you to fuck me now."

He sat up and fumbled for the condom, tearing up the wrapper and adding lube. He stroked himself as he scooted between my thighs. "Is this good, or did you want to be on your knees? Tell me what you like. It's been a long time for me and?—"

"Fuck me, Smitty. Just fuck me." I curled my fingers around his dick and guided him toward my entrance.

He growled something unintelligible and took over, pushing the tip of his cock inside. Our eyes locked as he slowly inched forward, stopping every so often to give us both a chance to get used to the onslaught of sensation. I definitely didn't own a dildo this thick, and trust me, it took a minute to adjust to his girth and the pressure of being filled and stretched.

But God, it was good. It only got better when he began to move.

He covered me like a blanket and nuzzled my neck, rocking slowly at first and gradually picking up the tempo. We kissed, gliding our tongues with the rhythm he set. My glasses fogged, but I didn't care. Every stroke of his cock lit me up from the inside, bringing my synapses to life.

Smitty dragged his teeth over my lower lip and braced himself on his arms, pumping faster and harder. I hiked my knees to my chest to make room for him and grabbed his ass, clutching his cheeks meaningfully.

"You want more? Can you take it?" he rasped.

"Oh, God, yes. Fuck me. Harder."

He growled, his nostrils flaring as he slipped his hands under my knees and snapped his hips triple time. The hotel bed squeaked, and the room was filled with the slap of skin and blissed-out sighs. Actually, I'd long since given up trying to be quiet. I had no idea what I was saying, but it was rude and raunchy and probably consisted of, "More, fuck, yes, fuck me, fuck me."

Pure poetry.

Smitty rolled us sideways, licking my swollen lips as he lifted my right leg and drove deeper still. He held me in place, his fingers digging into my upper thigh. He moved faster and I was officially a bumbling mess, holding on for dear life while he pounded my sweet spot…over and over.

"Holy fuck, I'm gonna come. Jerk yourself now. Come on. Come with me," he demanded.

I gripped my cock and tugged, gasping a moment later and exploding into a thousand tiny pieces.

Cum spurted between our sweat-slicked bodies as he bucked and roared with the force of his orgasm.

Neither of us moved for a minute or two. We were literally fucked out and spent, panting as if we'd just crossed the finish line after a twenty-mile run in the blazing sun.

Smitty eventually pulled out and stumbled to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth.

"Thanks."

I wiped the mess on my stomach and sat up gingerly, surveying the tangled sheets before glancing at the sexy naked beast of a man standing in the middle of my hotel room. My gaze zeroed in on his flaccid penis. I fought a smug grin, pleased that I knew what it felt like to have him inside me. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He gestured to the complimentary water bottles on the dresser under the flat-screen television, his tattooed muscles glistening in the dimly lit room. "Mind if I have one of those?"

"Help yourself. Pass me the other one, please."

Smitty tossed one over and sauntered to the bed, flopping next to me. "I played more minutes than usual tonight, got punched by some hotshot kid, changed a tire afterward, and barely broke a sweat. But this right here…damn, you wore me out."

I chuckled. "Likewise. You're a lot younger than me, though. Shouldn't you be ready for round two in ten minutes?"

"Gimme twenty, and we'll see how this guy is doing." He snorted, gesturing at his spent cock.

I uncapped my water bottle and took a swig. "You got it."

Smitty was quiet for a beat before blurting, "How much younger do you think I am?"

"Well, I'm forty-six, so…over ten years younger."

"Ah, I'm thirty-five."

"I know."

He smirked. "So you were talking about me."

"Mmhmm. My inner puck bunny was on high alert, gleaning details of all the single hockey studs, hoping I'd end up in bed with one," I joked.

He threw his head back and laughed, a sweet unfettered sound that made me grin like a fool. "You use words like gleaning, and I can't take you seriously."

"What's wrong with gleaning? It's a perfectly good word."

"Sure, but it's a smarty-pants word."

"I'm a smarty-pants," I confirmed.

"I believe it. Were you the kid who sat in the front row, raised his hand to answer every question, and reminded teachers when they forgot to give homework?"

"Well…no."

Smitty set his water bottle on the nightstand and rolled to face me. "No? Let me guess…you were the quiet type who knew all the answers but was too shy to speak up. Or maybe a late bloomer who went from geek to god senior year of high school? Which is it?"

"Neither," I admitted with a laugh. "I was your classic troublemaker, one bad decision away from becoming a juvenile delinquent or a sad statistic."

His jaw dropped. "No way. You?"

"Yep."

"You're saying we would have been friends in high school? 'Cause I was a total punk. If I hadn't had hockey, fuck knows where I'd be now."

"Maybe selling real estate in a small town…like me."

"Maybe," he drawled with a wide-eyed "yikes" expression. "So, what kind of delinquent were you?"

"The kind who hung with the wrong crowd—kids who were fun at parties, goofed off in class, and knew where to find cheap drugs."

"Oh."

"Yeah. My parents were divorced and I was their only child, but they both had families from previous marriages. I have two half brothers who are twenty years older than me. I was the afterthought kid," I stated. "My brothers would tell me how lucky I was that our dad didn't care about curfew or chores or…anything. Or that our mom was too busy with Junior League and tennis to pay attention to me. I learned the hard way that I was the opposite of lucky and that my folks were just your garden variety, self-absorbed bad parents."

"And you didn't want to repeat their mistakes," he guessed.

"Exactly. Unfortunately, that backfired. I've made a few of my own colossal mistakes." I immediately grimaced. "That was meant to be a jab at my former less-responsible self, not a commentary on current circumstances."

Smitty nudged my shin with his toes. "I got that. Though, I should probably at least be a little concerned about being here with you. As you might have guessed, I'm not out."

"Your secret is safe with me," I promised. "No offense to you, but I don't want anyone to know."

"Like your son."

"Correct. I prefer for Jake not to find out that after his nemesis changed my tire, I picked him up at a bar and begged him to fuck me."

He barked a laugh, snorted, and made a zipped-lips motion. "Is that what happened?"

"More or less, but…I have no regrets."

Smitty smiled. "Good. Me either. I wasn't kidding when I said it's been years, and this was fucking amazing."

I held his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. When I wake up tomorrow, I'm going to wonder if this was a dream. Within a week, I'll be sure of it."

He knitted his forehead, then splayed his hand over my bare thigh and kissed my shoulder. "We should do it again, you know…to make the memory last a little longer."

I slid the water bottle onto the nightstand and turned into his arms, slanting my mouth over his. "Good idea."

It was so good and so…naughty, but so what? This was a one-night break from reality. Nothing more.

And the best part was that no one would ever know.