ONE
Damon
Selene’s asswas still pressed against my leg when I woke up. She hadn’t bothered with underwear in the devil’s hours in the middle of the night when our strength had finally failed.
Neither had I.
The thin cover lay in folds over my waist and down my legs, a tent pitched just nicely over my crotch, the pole itching for action. The light that pierced through the window curtains was bright and hot, promising a terrible August day ahead.
I didn’t need to check the time to know I had none. Still, the warm body under my left arm fitting so nicely against the length of my torso was too inviting not to linger for a moment longer.
Then a hand moved from the right side, crawling up the bare side of my rib cage, and the intense eyes of Selene’s boyfriend, Harry, bored into my soul. “Morning,” he said.
“Morning yourself.” My voice was groggy and deep from sleep andProsecco. “Selene’s still asleep.”
Harry glanced at her with a devilishly handsome smile. His eyelashes batted twice as his hand moved over my abs and to Selene’s hip. “Rise and shine, baby girl,” he whispered.
The soft yet commanding quality of his voice made my dick just a little harder, turning the likelihood of me joining the team meeting on time severely low.
Selene’s shoulders pulled back, hair falling down to bare her neck. My lips tingled with the desire to kiss that soft skin and feel the pulse underneath. The places where Harry’s hand had touched me burned with want.
They had scouted the Thinker last night, and I’d seen the unholy wish list in the way they’d smiled, the way Harry’s thin, black eyebrow rose, the way Selene’s slender figure curved a little as her gaze undressed me.
I’d sent them drinks. They’d waited for the team to fall away, guys leaving the tables one after another, until I was the last man there.
Selene rolled off my numb arm as Harry sat up. He uncovered his body and let me enjoy one last look before he pulled his underwear on. My attention turned away from his big cock and flat, tight stomach to Selene’s wider hips.
“Coffee?” Harry asked.
“Please,” Selene said.
I thought about it. A glance out the window reminded me that I owed it to the team to be no later than I already was. “None for me. Gotta dash,” I said. “I’ll have a spare toothbrush if you’ve got one.”
“Top drawer on the left side,” Harry said. He put on his pants, torso still bare, waist narrow, and shoulders broad. He was all bones and taut skin, pronounced joints, and quiet endurance. He might not be a muscled jock like me, but his stamina was mind-blowing. As was Selene’s. They’d almost lost me last night, late into the game.
I walked over to the bathroom shamelessly naked because my underwear was nowhere to be found.
My dick gave up on hope, so it wasn’t like I was waving a sword around. I brushed my teeth and splashed the sleep out of my face, then examined the dark circles around my eyes. Worth it. Was a good night, for sure. What else was a guy supposed to do?
I walked out and found my sweatpants. Felt odd wearing them commando, but it wasn’t my first rodeo. Honestly, I was the patron saint of accidentally gifting my underwear to people. I’d kept the supply steady for the last two years, leaving little cotton trophies in rooms around Detroit like a freaking Easter Bunny of the kinkiest kind.
The T-shirt hugged my shoulders and covered my abs while the sounds of breakfast came from the living room. When I stepped out, I found that the French balcony was open and a small table set up with two chairs on either side. A pitcher of cold orange juice sat in the middle, two glasses, two plates, two croissants just heated up in the oven, butter, boiled eggs, cups of coffee, and the scent of toast rising from the kitchen.
Selene sat on one of the chairs, sunlight bathing her gold, piercing the silken, see-through nightgown. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Damon?” she asked.
“We’d love to have you,” Harry said from the kitchen. He’d put on a clean T-shirt that fit his physique perfectly, his hair a little shaggy in an adorable way.
They’d had me plenty, to be perfectly honest with you, and I needed to go. I didn’t belong here. These people had their shit together. There was no pile of clothes on the back of the reading chair. There was no dust on the bookshelves. There were no crumbs on the tiled kitchen floor. Their balcony had a gorgeous view of the lake and the manicured park along its edge.
This place was for a finer class of people, not the brutes like me. I’d spent yesterday afternoon smashing my teammatesinto the boards during practice, drinking beer and bonding, then downing glasses of a fine, bubbly wine in their nice home.
Harry and Selene were both doctoral students at Northwood. Both were researchers, though Harry was a physicist, and Selene specialized in some deeply specific form of methodological research in the age of the internet. I understood less than half the things they said. My language was more physical than that, and the power couple seemed to find that refreshing.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling like I was so far out of my comfort zone just now that I’d have to take a bus to return to it. “I promised the team I’d be in for a meeting.”
This was the kind of behavior that had automatically disqualified me from taking over the captaincy after Phoenix had graduated and departed to join the Blackhawks. I didn’t blame the coach, though. I’d never had my eye on the prize. Never would. I was happy to be a loyal follower and a devastating force on the ice. But there was still some ego left beneath the rotting layers of my soul that it stung not to even cross anyone’s mind for the position.
I stretched and picked up my duffel from the floor where I’d tossed it last night. It was the only imperfection in this home. A sweaty old duffel with dirty clothes and smelly shoes. Eh. I was leaving, anyway.