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“Why? He was very kind to me. Patient. It ended when he went off to McGill, but I was grateful for the experience.”
Nico didn’t say anything, and Bennett regretted adding so many details to this story. The name of his billet family was on his Wikipedia page, so anyone could find out who they were and the city in which they lived. Nico could probably get Jayden’s current address and phone number with a snap of his well-connected fingers.
Bennett propped his chin on Nico’s shoulder so he could see his face. “Do not try to find him.”
“I would never,” Nico said, and it didn’t sound convincing at all.
“Nico, I’m serious. He’s a good guy.” At least, he was when Bennett last had any awareness of Jayden.
Nico sneered. “A good guy. Dai, what does this even mean?”
“I suppose it means he doesn’t torture or murder people.”
In a flash, Nico rolled them so their positions were reversed, with Bennett flat on his back, the other man looming above. “Do you wish I was good, bello?” Nico bent to kiss Bennett’s throat. “Do you wish I was like this boy in the shower, asking nicely if I can suck your dick? Respectful and kind. Per favore e grazie.”
Bennett’s body flushed with heat and he arched his neck as Nico’s soft kisses continued. “You’re an asshole,” he said with a sigh.
“I am a criminal, mean and cruel to my core. And this is what you think about when I fuck you.”
While there was some truth to that, Nico wasn’t all bad. Bennett had certainly seen a different side to the man, a softer side. A sweeter side. And that side was impossible to resist. But that was an issue to unpack with a therapist, not here. Instead, he said, “What you do is dangerous and risky.”
“You have just described your own sport, no?”
Bennett’s lips parted in surprise but he quickly closed them. Easing back, he stared up into Nico’s calm gaze. “We don’t murder people.”
“That is the only distinction.”
“Hardly. We aren’t doing anything illegal. I won’t go to prison because I scored a shorthanded goal. Aren’t you worried about being sent to prison?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Only stupid criminals get caught and I am not stupid.”
“That sounds like hubris.”
Nico’s hand rose to cradle Bennett’s jaw and the emotion staring down at him resembled something close to affection. Bennett’s chest squeezed in response. Nico’s lips twitched. “This is a big word for a professional athlete.”
“I’m more than a pretty face,” Bennett forced out lightly, hoping to distract from whatever was happening in the neighborhood of his heart.
“Yes, you are also a hot fucking body.” Nico went back to kissing Bennett’s chest, gentle presses of his lips that caused goose bumps to erupt all over his skin. Then, without warning, Nico rolled away. “Shower, Verreault. You can’t leave here smelling like my come.”
They were showering together.
In his penthouse suite.
After fucking again.
Deciding to ignore his conscience, Nico turned on the water to let it get hot, then placed two fluffy towels on the counter. He couldn’t overthink this. Cleaning up after sex made sense seeing as how Verreault needed to leave and no one could suspect what happened between them.
And if Nico was stalling a bit, then that was his own business.
Admit you need this. That you think about it.
A ridiculous demand on Bennett’s part and Nico would do no such thing. Even if it were true, to say it would be signing his death warrant. No one could know how much Nico craved this, how he replayed each encounter with Verreault in his mind a hundred times. How he was now watching hockey games—hockey games!—on television just for a glimpse of the Reign’s captain.
It was pathetic. And dangerous.
A naked Verreault strode into the huge bathroom, the mirrors showcasing every angle of his athletic body, and Nico felt his blood heat. Cristo santo, what was it about this man that Nico found so irresistible? He made Nico feel feral, like un lupo—a wolf.
“Like what you see?” Bennett asked as he came right up to Nico, boldly unafraid.
