Road Rules: An Evanston Otters Prequel by Brigham Vaughn

Author:Brigham Vaughn [Vaughn, Brigham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Two Peninsulas Press

Zane woke up in the morning with Ryan sprawled half on top of him, still out cold.

Or warm, in this case. He ran hot, always had, and Zane had to slip out from under him before he roasted to death.

He slid out of the bed without disturbing him and reached down to pull on his discarded sweats. They’d fucked twice last night, Ryan taking it both times and swearing he wasn’t too sore, though Zane had caught a glimpse of his wince when he washed in the shower after round two.

Zane wondered why he didn’t feel different. The fact that he’d had his dick up another guy’s ass should have changed everything, but it didn’t. It was him and Ryan, the way it had always been. Hell, it was less weird than when he woke up next to a woman he’d met at a bar the night before.

Zane went to stand in front of the window, twitching back the curtain to see the gray dawn skyline of Vancouver. The hotel was right on the water, the city to the left, the harbor to the right, and straight ahead, in the distance, the Cascade Mountains spread out in front of him.

Zane swallowed past a lump in his throat, not sure why he was getting choked up about all of this. He’d stayed here before—plenty of times. It wasn’t the spectacular view. It was something tight in his chest that had been there since the night before.

Maybe things were different after all.

He glanced back at the bed, staring at Ryan’s sprawled-out form.

His body heated with the memories of Ryan riding him, Ryan under him, Ryan’s surprised gasp when he released, coating both their bodies while Zane shuddered inside him. It had been so good it was like he’d somehow taken sex to the next level. It wasn’t so different from how he’d felt early in his pro career, playing for the AHL team and then getting called up to the Otters.

Like something that had been missing before had clicked into place.

There was this tickle of fear in the back of Zane’s mind, though, the ever-present worry that something would derail their progress, their march toward the playoffs. Toward the Cup. His head kept going around in circles, thinking about how fucking complicated his past serious relationship had been. Just because he and Ryan were doing well didn’t mean it couldn’t go wrong later.

If Zane had been a smarter man, maybe he would have told Ryan no that first night. Or last night. Or in the future.

But there’d been something perfect in the way they’d tumbled into bed last night, damp from the shower, unable to stop kissing each other. They’d fallen asleep, bodies tangled together, and it had felt right. And Zane could spend the rest of the season worrying that this thing between them was going to fuck things up or he could spend it enjoying what they were doing.

And if it was a choice between head-spinning orgasms and heated kisses

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