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He nodded. “I want you. So much.”

“I want you, too.” I levered up to kiss him again then rested on my elbows. “Do you need to … umm … prep or anything?”

My Reddit deep dive had taught me a lot about fiber intake and … other necessary things. Cally was a planner. He’d bought condoms in anticipation of this. That probably meant he’d planned in other ways, too.

Still, I was done with assumptions.

He flattened his palm against my chest, pressing me gently down. “Already taken care of,” he said, lowering himself to nuzzle into the crook of my neck, where I could feel him smiling against my skin.

I tilted my head to the side to give him better access, until a terrible, horrifying thought popped into my head.

“Please tell me you didn’t clean out your hole at the arena?”

“Of course not, sicko.” He huffed against my skin, then raked his teeth down the tendon in the right side of my neck. “I came back here before heading to the bar.”

Momentarily distracted by the way he was nibbling on the spot just below my ear—the one that made goosebumps bloom on my skin every damn time he put his mouth there—it took me a hot second to parse his words.

“Right,” I breathed out. “You were super late.”

I’d been concerned, raising my eyebrows at him from across the room once I finally clocked his presence, but he simply shook his head and turned away to talk to Kovalev, a smirk tilting his lips to the side.

“Needed to get myself ready for you,” he murmured, his hips rocking forward.

I couldn’t believe Cally had socialized with our teammates knowing that when we got back here, we were going to have sex. If that’d been me, I would have been rocking a goddamn boner the whole time. Not my Cally, though. The man was cool as a freaking cucumber. Totally in control of himself in a way I couldn’t imagine ever being.

“That is so fucking hot.”

“You wanna know what else is hot?”

I bobbed my head up and down like an overeager golden retriever.

Cally chuckled, bringing his mouth to my ear and whispering, “I’m wearing a plug.”

And … my brain exploded.

Boom. Done. Gone.

“Holy shit.” I shoved my hand between us, going for the button of my pants. I needed to fuck this man, right the fuck now.

“I need to be inside you.”

Cally planted a series of quick, hard kisses to my lips, saying, “Yes. Now. Please” between each one.

Then he popped up onto his knees and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my pants and boxer briefs. I lifted my hips, and he tugged, my dick springing free as he dragged the fabric past my thighs, down my calves, and over my feet.

He clambered off the bed, balled everything up, and tossed the bundle aside. Then he wrapped his hands around my shins, his fingers digging into the bands of muscle along my calves, and began working out the residual knots in my legs from the long (for me) minutes I’d spent on the ice.

“That feels great, Cal, but that’s not really what I need right now.”

“Maybe it’s what I need though,” he murmured, effectively shutting down any complaints I might have as he brushed his palms slowly upward into my quads, his thumbs pressing into the tight muscles there and working in firm, deep circles.

I’d visited our trainers after the game—had been rubbed down and checked over like a prize fucking pig—but their hands had nothing on his.

Cally kept kneading, stripping away the last of the tension I was holding and replacing it with a thrumming heat that pooled in my groin and radiated outward. I hadn’t thought it was possible for me to be any more turned on than I already was, but now I was close to combusting just lying here and letting him take care of me.

I draped my arm over my face, and let out a small laugh.

“Something funny, M?”