Page 18 of Callous Shot

“Yeah. Okay. See ya later, Mais.”

I opened the door and stopped dead. Unfortunately, my movement had been so sudden that Ryker ran straight into my back, sending me stumbling forwards.

Straight into the person who’d appeared from the room opposite Maisie’s and stopped me in my tracks.

Lincoln bellend Bellingham.

And now I had my body pressed up against his again, and it was all too-warm skin and hard muscles, and why the fuck hadn’t I put my T-shirt on before I left the room?

“Get the fuck away from me,” he growled, shoving me backwards into Ryker, and then Ryker was pushing me out of the way and getting up in his face. Shit.

“King. Remember where we are,” I hissed. Ryker stepped back, but not before he delivered a vicious jab straight to Lincoln’s left flank. Lincoln doubled over with a stuttered gasp, the breath punched out of him, and I swung on my best mate. “What the hell? What was that for?”

Ryker’s nostrils flared, and I knew I had about five seconds to de-escalate this situation. Lincoln Bellingham was my responsibility.

“Arson—” he began, but I was already prepared, making use of my elbow and nudging him away from Lincoln.

“King. Don’t. Remember where we are.”

“I’m giving you two minutes,” Ryker ground out, obviously coming to the same conclusion I had. He stalked down the hallway and disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone with the person I hated most in the world. A person who was grimacing in pain or shock or whatever. Oh, and he was wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs. And nothing else.

“That wasn’t a good idea,” I managed to say, staring at the wall in a futile attempt to avoid eye contact. “You don’t want to get on Ryker’s bad side, trust me.”

Hazel eyes seared my face, and my gaze connected with Lincoln’s against my will. It was way too early in the morning to withstand the intensity of all that burning hatred. My eyes dropped to where he was clutching his side, and I watched, fascinated, as my own hand lifted his away, the pads of my fingers brushing over his overheated skin.

He stilled at my touch. “What the hell are you doing?”

Good fucking question. I guessed today was the day I discovered my hand had a mind of its own. Reminding it that my brain was actually in charge, I deliberately moved away. Far enough that I wouldn’t accidentally touch Lincoln without making a concerted effort. I shrugged casually…or I tried to, anyway. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m making sure King didn’t leave any visible marks.”

“You don’t concern yourself with that whenever we fight. What’s the difference?”

“That’s because they’re my marks. King doesn’t need to be involved in our shit, and he wouldn’t be if you hadn’t overreacted.” I thought quickly. Ryker was my number one priority, and I didn’t want him to have any more stress on top of the shit he was already dealing with, which meant I needed to make sure that there was no bruising. And I only had two minutes, and Maisie had an ensuite…

I spun around to knock on Maisie’s door. She was already standing there, her brows raised as her amused gaze flicked between me and Lincoln.

I shot her a bright grin that I really wasn’t feeling. “Can I borrow your bathroom?”

“Go ahead.” She stepped aside, and before Lincoln could protest, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and dragged him inside, making a quick detour to Maisie’s mini fridge to grab some ice. He seemed startled when we ended up shut in the tiny bathroom together, and I was too, but like I said, I was doing this for Ryker. The asshole probably wouldn’t even appreciate it.

He leaned back against the sink as I carefully wrapped a handful of ice cubes in a washcloth. “What are you doing, Hoyton?” There was confusion in his voice, but his tone was softer than it ever had been around me. Probably the shock. That made two of us.

“I told you.” I pressed the ice-filled washcloth to his side, and he hissed through his teeth as the freezing material touched his skin. “I’m doing this for King. I don’t trust you not to throw him under the bus.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. You know I’m a hockey player? I get worse injuries every day. We both do.”

“Injuries?” My gaze catalogued the expanse of smooth, tanned skin stretching over his taut, shifting muscles. Yeah, there was some bruising, probably from the game, but nothing to be concerned about. “I don’t see any.” What I did see, and I was very much not interested in seeing, was the bulge in his underwear. I could’ve sworn it was getting bigger. Shit. Don’t look there. I quickly looked up, my gaze catching on the side of his throat. Something inside me flickered to life. Something dark and hot and possessive. Something I had no control over. “What’s that mark on your neck?”

His breath hitched. “Surely you recognise a hickey.”

“Did Kimberly give you that?” I gritted out. The thing inside me flared, familiar Lincoln-related anger stoking it, and I leaned in, pressing my thumb into the mark, making his skin blanch beneath the pressure. His pulse pounded wildly against my fingers.

“She’s good with her mouth. You should know.”

“I had her first,” I snarled, rage overtaking me, “and no one is as good with their mouth as me.” With that, I closed the final inch of distance between us and placed my mouth right over the hickey. A shocked gasp tore from his throat, but I ignored it, biting down, and then sucking, hard, erasing every trace of Kimberly with my own mark. Now, the next time he looked in a mirror, he’d remember me.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and suddenly, his hands were on my sides, and he was spinning us, and then his mouth was at my throat, his thick stubble scraping over my skin. I couldn’t even think. I could barely even remember how to breathe as he went at me like a fucking vampire, leaving me panting and disorientated with all the blood in my body rushing into my ridiculously hard dick.

“Stop,” I rasped, and it broke the spell. Lincoln tore himself away from me, pupils blown wide, his gaze wild and shocked, with his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed. My gaze swept down before I was aware of what I was doing, and my heart jolted. Oh, shit. He was hard too. This had gone from bad to worse to the worst thing imaginable. I needed to get out of here.