Delayed Desires: A High-Stakes Release

Chapter 1: Turbulence in the Lounge

The airport lounge buzzed with the restless energy of stranded travelers, but Assistant Captain Liam Carver had eyes only for one man—Jaxon Reed, the star center of their hockey team, pacing like a caged animal near the bar. Jaxon’s broad shoulders were hunched, his jaw tight, and his muttering was a low, frantic hum about letting the team down in their last brutal matchup. Liam’s gut twisted. He couldn’t stand seeing their leader unravel like this.

'Hey, Reed, you’re wearing a hole in the carpet,' Liam called out, striding over with a casual swagger that belied his concern. 'Come with me. We’re fixing this before you implode.'

Jaxon’s stormy blue eyes flicked up, narrowing. 'Fixing what, Carver? I’m fine. Just... processing.'

'Processing, my ass. You look like you’re about to punch a wall or cry into a beer. Neither’s a good look on you.' Liam smirked, clapping a hand on Jaxon’s shoulder and steering him toward a quiet adjoining room they’d scoped out earlier for privacy. 'I’ve got a better idea.'

Inside, the dim lighting cast shadows over a plush ottoman in the center of the space. Liam gestured to it with a nod. 'Sit. Now.'

Jaxon hesitated, his brow furrowing. 'What’s this about? I don’t need a damn pep talk.'

'Oh, it’s not a talk,' Liam said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr as he waved over Mara Kline, their veteran left-winger, who’d been watching from the doorway with a knowing grin. 'It’s a... breathing exercise. Custom for high-stakes moments. Trust me, big guy.'

Mara sauntered in, her presence commanding even in the cramped room. 'Listen to Carver, Reed. I’ve seen this work wonders. Back in ’18, I had a center who couldn’t shoot straight until we got him... relaxed. Now, pants off. Let’s do this.' Her tone was sharp, no-nonsense, but her eyes glinted with mischief.

Jaxon’s face flushed crimson. 'You’re shitting me. I’m not—'

'You are,' Mara cut in, crossing her arms. 'Jockstrap stays on if it makes you feel better, but we’re not letting you spiral. Strip, Captain. We’ve got your back.'

With a grumble and a glare that could’ve melted ice, Jaxon complied, shucking his pants and settling onto the ottoman, his muscular thighs tense under the thin fabric of his jock. Liam knelt in front of him, his hands steady and deliberate, while Mara perched beside Jaxon, launching into a distracting tale of a goal celebration gone hilariously wrong—complete with a teammate’s skate getting stuck in a net.

'Focus on her voice, Reed,' Liam murmured, his fingers tracing a path along Jaxon’s inner thigh, teasing but purposeful. 'And let me handle the rest. You’re wound tighter than a drum, and I’m not having our star player crack before the next game.'

Jaxon’s breath hitched, his body jerking slightly at the contact. 'This is insane, Carver. What the hell are you—'

'Shh,' Mara interjected, her hand resting lightly on Jaxon’s shoulder, her voice a soothing contrast to her earlier bite. 'Let him work. You’ve carried us through worse. Now let us carry you.'

Liam’s touch grew bolder, slipping beneath the edge of the jockstrap, his fingers finding their mark with precision. Jaxon’s gasp was sharp, his hands gripping the ottoman’s edges as a shudder ran through him. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of sweat. Liam’s gaze locked with Jaxon’s, a silent promise of control and care, as his movements coaxed a response that had Jaxon’s chest heaving, his skin flushing hot.

'That’s it,' Liam growled softly, his own pulse quickening at the sight of Jaxon unraveling under his touch. 'Let go. We’ve got you.'

Jaxon’s eyes squeezed shut, a low moan escaping as his body tensed, teetering on the edge. The moment was electric, charged with raw need and unspoken trust, building toward an explosive release that promised to shatter every wall he’d built around himself.