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This was real. Garrett’s perfect lips. His stubbled chin. His hands on my back over my shirt. I’d had fantasies that weren’t this sexy.

Then he slid a hand down over my ass and pulled me flush against him, letting me feel every inch of his hard-on through our clothes. The friction against my own erection made my head spin even faster than it had earlier; holy hell, I wanted this man. Like now.

I drew back and met his eyes. He looked about as dazed as I felt… and about as aroused, too.

He licked his lips. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess we’re on the same page.”

Laughing, I nodded. “Yeah. I think so,” I panted. “I swear I really was just inviting you over for a drink, but…”

He grinned. “I really was just coming over for a drink. I won’t complain about this, though.”

“Neither will I.” I ran my hands up his back. “Might be a good time to, uh…” I licked my lips. “Do you have a preference? Top or bottom? Or… are you even into that at all?”

Garrett’s eyes gleamed with renewed hunger. “I’m into it. And it’s been too long since I’ve bottomed.”

Oh, fuck.

I had to catch my breath. “Does that mean you haven’t wanted to? Or that you want to now?”

“I haven’t been with a top in a while.” He moved in for another kiss, and just before our lips met, he growled, “Assuming I’m with someone now who likes to top, I definitely want to.”

Jesus. My knees turned to liquid and my spine wasn’t much better.

“Ooh, yeah,” I said. “I definitely like to top.”

His low groan was the hottest thing ever.

Then he nudged me up against the counter, and pain shot down my leg.

I broke the kiss with a sharp gasp. “Shit!”

“What? What?” Garrett stepped back like I’d shoved him, hands upraised and eyes huge. “You okay?”

The pain was starting to recede, but I barely noticed over the resurgence of embarrassment. Rubbing my hip gingerly, I muttered, “Old injury.”

His eyes flicked to my hip, then back to mine. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.” I stepped closer, reaching for him with my other hand. “You’re fine. I was, uh… Well, there’s a reason I’ve been laying around with a bunch of icepacks.”

Renewed alarm straightened his spine.

“It’s all right.” I shook my head as the heat in my face ebbed a little. “Occupational hazard.”

That seemed to relax him a bit, and he wrapped his arms around me again. “Right. I guess hockey is a bit tough on the body, isn’t it?”

Laughing, I nodded. “A bit, yeah. I’m good, just sore.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” But he didn’t pull me back in. Instead, an unspoken thought darkened his expression and loosened his embrace.

I wanted to slide my hands up his chest, but I hesitated. It was my turn to ask, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh…” He swallowed hard, shoulders sinking a little. “Just… remembered you’re a hockey player.”

“Right? Is that okay?”

“It is.” He watched himself running his hand down my arm, his expression tough to read. “But you’re a hockey player… and so is my son.”

“So is—oh.”