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“I know how to tame my beast,” I whispered.
He was lucky. I couldn’t stop again because I was far too close to my own orgasm. My breath caught in my throat, and my balls tightened.
“Close…” grunted Hoss.
“Aww…damn yeah.” After three more thrusts, Hoss’s body jerked in an involuntary spasm, and his cock launched a string of white hot cum onto his chest and abs.
“Fuck,” I growled. I couldn’t hold it, and my entire body shook when I came.
"Damn, Pete..." Hoss gasped as his body shuddered with the aftershocks.
"God,” I panted, still deep inside him. “So…so…incredible."
I pulled out and collapsed onto the bed beside the man I loved with my entire heart, body, and mind.
“Are you gonna miss this?” I asked.
“What? You’re not fucking leaving me…”
I laughed loudly. “I meant your damn apartment.”
“Oh,” Hoss rolled over on his side to face me. “Sorry about the panic there, but I won’t miss this apartment. Yours is already more like home.”
“Ours, you mean,” I grinned.
Chapter25
Hoss
The first day of practice for the new season at the Cold Pines Cougars Arena felt like Christmas morning. The gifts we opened were the new team members, a few of them rookies.
"Morning," I announced, walking in with two steaming cups of black coffee, one in each hand. It was our ritual—the last one in grabs the coffee. Double shot of espresso for each of us, no sugar, no nonsense. Just like our joint coaching style.
Pete looked up from his laptop, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the coffee. "You're a lifesaver."
"Only returning the favor," I replied, setting his cup next to his laptop before claiming my own.
The first sip hit the spot, and it felt like the day had officially begun. Pete moved away from the computer and spun his chair to face me. "So, the first practice of the season. Feeling pumped?"
"So, the first practice of the new season," Pete began, swiveling his chair to face me. "But before we dive in, what do you think of the rookies based on the scouting reports? Fischer, Collins, and Martin."
“Sounds a bit like a law firm.”
Pete gently rolled his eyes. “Okay, yeah, I guess it does, but let’s get serious here.”
I leaned back, mulling it over. "Well, Fischer's stats scream speed. His time around the rink is crazy fast, but the report notes he could use work defensively."
Pete nodded. "Yeah, I caught that. The kid's got jets on his skates, but his defense is Swiss cheese—full of holes."
"Then there’s Collins. Size and strength off the charts," I added, flipping open the folder in front of me. "Guy could probably body-check a freight train and live to tell the tale. Unfortunately, the scouting report mentions some concerns about his puck control. He might have some trouble with thieving defensemen.”
"Good to have brawn, but we need grace, too. Kinda like a ballet-dancing bear, huh?"
I chuckled at the image. "Exactly. Now, what's your take on Martin? He sounds like a sniper. He focuses intensely on his shots, but the report mentions he’s a bit of a lone wolf on the ice. He could use some instruction on teamwork.”
Pete touched his fingertips together. “I suppose I was a skeptic about Eddie at first, and he proved me wrong. Any of these guys could be our next sensation.”
“Okay,” I said. You take Fischer; I'll take Collins, and let’s both tackle the Martin mystery. We can boost the respect for teamwork with all three of them.”
