Change of Plans
V.L. Locey

I could tell just by watching him getting ready for dinner that he was stressing something. I know him well. He is my husband, after all. Maybe it was the way he kept looking at me and then glancing away, or the way he fiddled with the new gold cufflinks I had bought him, or it could have just been the weird way him and me were wired together. I know he scoffs at telepathic links and otherworldly things like people being soul mates or predestined to come together. And that’s okay. He can make caustic comments about things I like to entertain in my head. I know it’s his way of coping with the stuff he can’t explain or wise mouth away. That’s how Victor deals with emotional things or ideas that he can’t or won’t try to wrap his head around. His life runs easier if he keeps things on a straight line that includes me, sex, and hockey, with the occasional Netflix binge or pizza.

“Vic, you okay, babe?” I asked when he stalked behind me in the bedroom yet again, the fourth tie chosen in five minutes balled up in his hand.

“Why can’t we just follow my traditional Valentine’s Day agenda?” He stopped on a dime and looked at me, his hazel eyes showing how agitated he was. I could read those blue-green beauties like a playbook now.

“The one where you buy four boxes of chocolates and a bottle of Jack Daniels then proceed to get naked and shitfaced drunk while watching Christopher Titus ‘Love is Evol’ on a continual loop?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” He threw the dark blue tie to his dresser.

“As romantic as that sounds, you gave up drinking.” I turned back to the mirror and ran my fingers through my wet hair, trying to get the black mass to dry before we left. It was four degrees outside in Cayuga, New York. Frozen hair wasn’t new to me, being from Manitoba, but I wanted to try to style the shit a little, maybe.

“Dan, if you cancel this V-Day shit, I will suck your dick so well you won’t be able to walk for days.” Vic stepped up behind me. His hands slipped around my hips. He waggled a red eyebrow and toyed with my belt buckle. I rolled my eyes. “Come on. Every man on the planet wants a stellar BJ on V-Day. See, that rhymes. Totally should be a Hallmark card.”

“Vic, we got reservations in an hour. I made them, like, six months ago, to make sure we had the best seat in the place. We’re not staying home tonight.”

“Seriously, think about it Dan. We can even do a Dan movie. I’ll let you slide some chick flick in while I get you off. You know you wanted to see that movie with that chick and that dude the other night but I was totally into ‘Fast and Loud’ and wouldn’t let you watch it.”

“That’s every night. You’ll need to be more specific.”

Victor started working on my buckle. “The other night. I don’t know which one. You sat down beside me just as the gang at Gas Monkey Garage were going to crank out the reveal on a sweet little ’69 Mustang and shoved a DVD case in front of my face.”

“Oh, that night. Yeah, that wasn’t a chick flick, doofus. That was a comedy-mystery that had Randy Harrison in it.” He slid my belt out of the loops. He looked confused. “Randy Harrison. Vic, he played Justin in ‘Queer as Folk’?”

“Oh, Justin. No shit. I bet he grew up pretty. I still like Brian the best.” He tugged the front of my dress shirt out of my pants.

“You liking Brian is not a shocker to anyone who knows you. And he did grow up pretty. You’d have seen how pretty if you’d have looked at the case.” I grabbed his hand as it wiggled under my shirt. “Vic, we have reservations in an hour. You’re not going to sex me out of this night, okay?”

He snapped his hand out from under my shirt then huffed off. “Fine, we’ll just go sit in that stupid restaurant with all the other saps whose wives dragged them out.”

I had never known Poles had such short tempers. Or maybe it was just this one. There was something else under his bullshit, though, something that was pushing him to be a huge bag of dicks. Well, a huger bag of dicks than he was on a daily basis. There always was something behind his attitude. I padded over to where he stood, staring into the closet and gave his biceps a short cuff. He threw me a glare over his shoulder, his blue-green eyes sparking.

“Okay, for starter’s, I know I told you before, like, fifty times; I’m not your wife, I’m your husband.” He made a face of complete contempt. So, I pushed around him and got right into his long, handsome mug. “Second, I don’t ask much from you, Vic. We both been ignoring us for the Cougars, and I get that. We’re in season and hockey comes first. But tonight, I want us to be first.”

“Well, go be first alone. I can’t take you to that fancy place because I don’t have anything to give you.”

“Vic, really? All this is over the fact you didn’t get me anything? I mean, yeah, it kind of stings because the world knew Valentine’s Day was coming and you didn’t even get me a–”

“It’s not that I didn’t get you anything. Fuck, Dan, I bought you, like, five different gifts. And every time I had Lila check them out – because what does a dickhead like me know about romance and gifts – she told me they weren’t romantic enough. So, I took them back each time and looked for something else. There’s nothing out there good enough for you.” He threw his hands into the air, his rant picking up steam while I stood gawping up at him. “Then she said ‘Write down your words in a poem. Daniel will love that!’ and yeah, that went about as you thought it would. Fucking poems. Christ, like I can make poems that don’t start off with some guy being from Nantucket and his ginormous cock?”

“Vic, babe, I–”

“And now here I am, the brain-damaged moron with no gift to give you after you give me those great cuff links and this dinner. I cannot do this shit, Dan. You know I can’t. I don’t do emotions and shit.”

“What did you want to say?” He looked at me in total bewilderment. I peeled off my suit jacket and lobbed it on the bed. “In the poem that you tried to write for me. What did you want to say?”

“I don’t know.” He spun from me and began pacing our bedroom, his long legs propelling around the room with speed. I leaned back on the dresser and crossed my arms over my chest, watching him churn up what he wanted so badly to say. Victor was right in that emotional dialog was hard for him. His childhood had seen to that, but now that I had his band on my finger and he wore mine, we were working on it. It wouldn’t be quick. Somedays, I figured it would never happen at all. “I wanted to tell you that I love you. And, uh, that you make me smile when I wake up and see your stumpy little body curled around mine.”

“Yeah? Go on.” He ran his fingers through his flaming red hair as he worked to dredge up the feelings he keeps so deeply buried. “What else did you want to say to me in that poem?”

“That you make me laugh. And that the smell of you on me makes me hot and hard instantly. That when I look down and see your ring on my finger, I want to puke and grin and cry all at once. That you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I don’t think I could go on in this world if you weren’t by my side to help me along.”

I cleared my throat softly. “Vic, oh man, that was beautiful.” I went to him because I knew he needed lots of tactile now. He always did when he purged like that. “I really need to hold you.”

“Okay, good, yeah,” he murmured and drew me into his chest, his fingers instantly going into my hair. He fisted it and kissed my brow, his lips soft and needy, he pecked his way over my closed eyes to my mouth. And then, as it always does with Victor and me, the fire ignited instantly. With the just the touch of his tongue to the corner of my mouth I was hard and desperate to love him. The kiss was grinding teeth and frantic hands. I tugged at the light blue shirt he had pulled on but never buttoned. He held my head tightly, pulling slightly on my hair, his tongue sliding over mine then delving deeper to stroke my molars. I bared his chest then went to work on his zipper, freeing his cock. “Oh shit, Dan, man, the reservations…”

“Fuck them,” I huffed then shoved my much taller husband to our bed. “We’ll get something delivered. You need me inside you right now.”

He licked his lips while lifting his ass to wiggle out of his pants. I threw my shirt and tie to the side, unzipped and kicked off my trousers. Victor’s gaze roamed over me.

“I do love a man who goes commando.” He fisted his long cock and began stroking it. “You riding me? Please tell me you’re riding me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m riding you.” He reached over his head for the lube on the bed stand while I crawled over him, taking time to run my tongue over his legs. I tugged on the curly red hairs on his thighs with my teeth, glancing up to see him working his prick. “After I suck on your dick for a little bit. You down with that, Vic?”

“Am I down with you going down? Hell and yes, sweets.” I lapped a wet line along the inside of his pale thigh, making him groan and wiggle around trying to hurry me into taking his dick into my mouth. I wasn’t in no hurry. He continued to stoke himself – the light on the dresser glinting off the gold band on his third finger of his left hand – and watch me making my way closer to his prick. “Dan, you fucking sexy little son-of-a-bitch, get my cock into your mouth.”

“You’re pretty pushy for the man on the bottom.” I flicked the tip of my tongue over the head of his dick. He twitched and held his cock tight. I took him into my mouth, my lips sliding over smooth skin covering hard meat. Vic released his cock when my lips met his fingers. He pumped up as I went down and his moan of pleasure was long and raspy. I sucked him noisily, cupping his huge balls. He pushed my hair from my face as he called my name on a breathless whisper. I pulled off with a pop, spittle dribbling down to my chin. “Give me that lube.”

He blinked, like he was trying to clear the cloud of lust from his mind then handed me the lube, his body taut and firm. I climbed over him, my leg brushing against his cock when I threw it over his hips.

“You’re going to want to get on me fast, Dan.”

“Yeah, no, you don’t tell me how this is going, Vic.” I leaned down on him, pressing my chest against his and claiming his mouth ravenously. His fingers dug into my ribs as he tried to lift me up higher while I sucked on his tongue. When I needed air, I left his mouth and sat back, ass on his thighs and found the lube lying beside him. His eyes were smoky now, heavy lidded, and his lips slightly puffy from our kisses. He trembled when the lid to the lube snapped open. I squeezed a dollop into my palm then smeared it over the purplish head of his cock. “You liking that, Vic?”

“Shit, yes,” he replied then thrust up into my hand. I gave him a few strokes then shimmied over him, pushing up to a crouch like a catcher in baseball. “Shit, Dan, yes, I fucking love it when you do this.”

He grabbed his cock and held it for me. Eyes sliding shut, I lowered myself downward. The tip of his cock slid past my ass once and then twice. On the third try I felt him penetrate me and I paused, hands pressing into Vic’s chest, I pulled in as much air as I could then lowered myself down onto him. The stretch and burn in this position was intense. He kneaded the flesh on my thigh with his left hand, obviously yearning to rush things but there was no way I was just flopping down on a cock that big.

“Vic, damn it,” I said through clenched teeth when all of him was deep inside me. “Christ, no, don’t move yet. Ahh, okay, yeah, that’s okay.” He rolled his hips in a small circle. The sensations were amazing. I moved up a few inches then gently came back down.

“Fuuuuck.” Vic pulled down on my hips, seating himself so deeply inside me, it made my eyes water. He pushed up to his elbows then to his hands. I shoved him back to the bed before dropping from a crouch to a straddle, my knees gripping his sides. He latched into my ass cheeks with his hands, spreading me wide and then pushing the mounds as close as he could. Again, he tried to sit up and once more I pressed him back into the bedding. “Faster. Now.”

I threw myself into it, whipping my head back with each slamming motion up and back. Victor arched up, his ass leaving the mattress, his fingers digging so hard into my ass, it hurt. I didn’t tell him to stop. Would never tell him to stop. I loved every mark and bite he left on me when making love. They were reminders of our intimacy, of how strong and powerful he and me were as men and as partners. Each twinge I’d feel tomorrow would make me yearn for him again because that was how big me and Victor were and always had been. From the first time I had seen him up close, I knew I wanted the lanky, foul-mouthed bastard. And I got him. How lucky am I?

“Dan, I am so close. Sooo fucking close.” I sat back, pressing myself down onto him and then rotating my ass in a wide circle. Vic lost his mind just as I knew he would. I tossed my hair from my eyes and palmed my cock. My husband cried out my name then closed his eyes, his orgasm hitting him like a body check from the big man in Boston. All it took was one or two tugs on my dick and I blew apart as well. Victor shimmied around under me, rolling his pelvis to get deeper as I came on his stomach and chest.

Noises and grunts fell out of me, no words. The sight of my spunk speckling his chest, stomach and chin a moment later started another rolling tremor that lasted forever it seemed. Finally, when my body couldn’t take anymore, I fell over him, my nose resting under his ear, his hands massaging my ass tenderly.

“Sweet fucking Nellie Olsen,” Victor panted under me, his head rolling an inch or two so he could press a kiss to my sweaty hair. “And maybe Ma and Pa Olsen, too. Shit, Dan, you hot little Hobbit, you.”

I rose enough to be able to look down at him. He pushed a couple of strands of dark hair behind my ear, his expression tender. I know that some people think that the Venomous Pole can’t do tender, but he can, and he can do it so good. It’s just not something he does where anyone but me can see it. Makes him weak or so he thinks. “They teach you how to do that in the Shire?”

“They teach us how to do lots of things that got nothing to do with smoking pipes, poking around in a garden, or wearing ornamental waistcoats on dull days,” I murmured over his mouth, the kiss just an inch from happening.

“No wonder Sam and Frodo always looked so fucking spent,” he chuckled then lifted his shoulders from the bedding to seal his mouth over mine. We rolled to our sides and continued kissing and stroking each other for a long time. “You know we’re going to be late to that fancy eatery, right? No way we can make it to Corning in less than fifteen minutes.”

“How about we just stay here in bed and make call for one of them pizzas you like so good?” I said as I nipped at his collarbone. His fingers traced the Wolverine tattoo on my biceps.

“You sure you won’t be too disappointed because I never got you anything?”

“Nope, not for a second. Not ever, Vic. I never wanted nothing but to have you give me something from your heart. And man, did you ever. I’m real happy to eat pizza in bed with you for the rest of my life.”

He fell into silence. I ran my tongue over his arm just to taste the incredible mixture of sweat and Kalinski. “You still got that movie with Justin from QAF in it?”

“Yeah,” I lapped at the fold in his arm and then licked my way back to his mouth. It wasn’t always toxic. Right now, it was damn sweet, if you asked me. Too sweet. Like addictive sweet.

“Think we can just lay here a bit more so I can look at you a little longer?”

“Yeah, I think I’d be happy to lay here and look at you forever.”

The pizza was a little undercooked but the movie and the encore with Vic totally rocked.

Best. V-Day. Ever.

The End

For your chance to win The Point Shot Box Set leave a comment below! 

Out March 1 2017

Now, you can have the books that introduced Victor Kalinski to the world in one reasonably priced boxed set! With over 350 Goodreads reviews and ratings combined, the romance of Vic Kalinski and Dan Arou is one that once read, will never be forgotten. In this three-book set, you’ll get to experience all the passion, sarcasm, hockey action, and romance that reviewers have called “Beautifully Written”, “Surprisingly Heartfelt”, and “Hot! Hot! Hot!”

“The writing in this is snappy and awesome, the story moves at a great pace and oh it's HOT AS EVER-LOVING HELL. There's romance that never veers into a too-sappy place, it's FUNNY and full of great lines right and left, and so engaging that I couldn't stop reading it. The ending is satisfying, with our characters not becoming perfect people but becoming better together than they are apart, and that's just about as romantic as it gets.” Avon Gale – Author of the Scoring Chances series

Readers should be over 18 due to mature language and gay sexual situations. The set includes:

Two Man Advantage (Point Shot Trilogy #1)
Game Misconduct (Point Shot Trilogy #2)
Full Strength (Point Shot Trilogy #3)

About the Author

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.