🔥 Championship Night 🔥

An Exclusive Bonus Scene from Overtime Heat

Thank You for Reading! 💙

You made it to the bonus content—which means you’ve experienced Liam and Reese’s journey from enemies to forever. Thank you for giving their story a chance. This exclusive scene is our gift to dedicated readers like you.

It’s set the night they win the Stanley Cup Finals, after the cameras have stopped rolling and the locker room has cleared out. The champagne is still flowing, the Cup sits gleaming in the corner, and Liam is finally ready to show Reese exactly what victory feels like when you have nothing left to hide…

Championship Night

Two hours after winning the Stanley Cup…

The locker room was finally empty.

Liam had waited—through the trophy presentation, the champagne showers, the interviews that seemed to last forever. Through the team photos and the family moments and every single obligation that came with being captain on the biggest night of his career.

But now? Now the cameras were gone. The reporters had filed their stories. The team had scattered to various celebrations across the city.

And Reese was still here.

He was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, still in his under-armor, champagne drying in his hair. The Stanley Cup sat three feet away, gleaming under the fluorescent lights like it couldn’t quite believe it was real either.

“Everyone’s gone,” Liam said, clicking the lock on the door.

Reese looked up. His eyes were dark, hungry—the same look he’d been giving Liam all night, every time their gazes met across the chaos. The look that said I’m done waiting.

“Finally.” Reese stood, crossing the distance between them in three strides. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

“I have some idea.” Liam caught him by the waist, pulling him close. “Considering I’ve been having the same problem.”

“We just won the Stanley Cup.”

“We did.”

“And you kissed me on the ice. In front of everyone.”

“I did.” Liam’s hands slid lower, gripping Reese’s ass through the thin fabric. “Any regrets?”

“Just one.” Reese’s mouth found his neck, biting down just hard enough to make Liam’s breath catch. “That I had to wait this long to get you alone.”

They crashed into the lockers, kissing like they’d die if they stopped.

Liam had kissed Reese hundreds of times by now—soft morning kisses, desperate middle-of-the-night kisses, the kind of kisses that started gentle and ended with them both wrecked. But this was different. This was victory and relief and finally all wrapped together, flavored with champagne and adrenaline and the knowledge that the whole world knew now.

They knew, and Liam didn’t care. For the first time in his life, he didn’t care who saw, who knew, who judged.

All he cared about was the man in his arms.

“Need you,” Reese gasped between kisses. “Liam—need you now—”

“Patience.” Liam spun them, pressing Reese against the cold metal of the lockers. “We just won the Cup. I’m going to savor this.”

“Savor it faster.”

Liam laughed—actually laughed, the sound echoing off the tile. “God, I love you.”

Reese’s expression softened, just for a moment. “I love you too. Now please—”

“Please what?” Liam dropped to his knees, looking up at Reese with a smile that was pure sin. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Reese’s head fell back against the locker, a groan escaping him. “I want your mouth on me. I want you to make me come so hard I forget my own name. And then—” His voice dropped, rough with need. “Then I want you to fuck me right here, in front of that trophy, so I remember this night forever.”

Heat pooled low in Liam’s stomach. “That can be arranged.”

He pulled down Reese’s compression shorts in one smooth motion, taking him into his mouth without preamble. Reese’s hips jerked, a curse falling from his lips as Liam swallowed him deep.

“Fuck—Liam—”

Liam hummed in response, the vibration making Reese shudder. He’d learned exactly how Reese liked this over the past months—learned what made him moan, what made him beg, what made him fall apart completely. He used every bit of that knowledge now, working him with lips and tongue and just the right amount of pressure.

“So good,” Reese breathed, his fingers threading through Liam’s hair. “You’re so good at this, baby. So fucking perfect—”

The praise went straight to Liam’s cock. He’d spent his whole life chasing approval from the wrong people. But when Reese called him perfect? When Reese looked at him like he hung the moon? It felt like finally coming home.

He pulled off with an obscene pop, looking up at Reese with wet lips and dark eyes. “Turn around.”

Reese’s breath caught. “What?”

“Turn. Around.” Liam’s voice dropped into what Reese called his captain voice—the one that expected obedience and usually got it. “Hands on the locker.”

Reese complied instantly, pressing his palms flat against the cold metal. The position put his ass on perfect display, and Liam took a moment just to appreciate the view.

“Look at you,” he murmured, running his hands up the backs of Reese’s thighs. “So fucking beautiful. All mine.”

“All yours,” Reese agreed, his voice shaking. “Always yours.”

Liam leaned in and put his mouth to work.

The sounds Reese made were filthy.

Gasps and moans and broken versions of Liam’s name, echoing off the tile as Liam took him apart with his tongue. He was relentless, alternating between teasing licks and deep, probing strokes, holding Reese’s hips still when he tried to push back for more.

“Please,” Reese whimpered. “Liam, please, I need—”

“Need what?”

“Your fingers. Your cock. Something.”

Liam pulled back, pressing a kiss to the base of Reese’s spine. “Demanding.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Liam stood, reaching for his bag—and the supplies he’d stashed there hours ago, hoping for exactly this opportunity. “I really do.”

The first finger slid in easily, Reese’s body opening for him like it was made to. The second finger made Reese curse. The third made him beg.

“Enough,” Reese gasped. “I’m ready. I’ve been ready for hours. Please, Liam—”

“I know you have.” Liam pressed kisses along his shoulder, fingers still working inside him. “Watched you all night, across the ice. Saw the way you looked at me every time we scored. Knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“What was I thinking?”

“That you wanted me to bend you over something and fuck you until you screamed.”

Reese’s whole body shuddered. “Yes. God, yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Then let me give it to you.”

Liam withdrew his fingers, slicked himself up, and pushed inside in one long, smooth stroke.

They both groaned—the sound loud in the empty room, echoing off the walls, surrounding them. Liam gave them both a moment to adjust, forehead pressed to Reese’s shoulder, breathing hard.

“Okay?” he managed.

“More than okay.” Reese pushed back against him, demanding. “Now move.”

Liam moved.

He started slow—long, deep strokes that made them both shudder—but Reese wasn’t having it.

“Harder,” he demanded. “I’m not going to break.”

“I know you’re not.” Liam’s grip tightened on his hips. “But I like taking my time with you. Like watching you fall apart.”

“I’ll fall apart faster if you fuck me like you mean it.”

The words snapped something in Liam’s control. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, punching a cry from Reese’s throat.

“Like that?” he growled against Reese’s ear.

“Yes—fuck—just like that—”

He set a brutal pace, driving into Reese with everything he had. The locker room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, of desperate moans and broken pleas. Reese was loud—he was always loud, completely shameless in his pleasure—and Liam loved every second of it.

“You feel so good,” he panted, angling his hips to hit that spot that made Reese see stars. “So tight for me. So perfect.”

“Yours,” Reese gasped. “All yours—only yours—”

“Mine.” The word came out possessive, primal. Liam bit down on Reese’s shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. “Say it again.”

“Yours. I’m yours, Liam. Nobody else’s. Never anyone else’s.”

The declaration pushed Liam closer to the edge. He reached around, wrapping his hand around Reese’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.

“Come for me,” he commanded. “Right now. Let go.”

Reese obeyed.

He came with a shout, painting Liam’s hand and the locker in front of him, his whole body convulsing with the force of it. The clench of his muscles pulled Liam over the edge too, pleasure crashing through him in waves as he buried himself deep and let go.

For a long moment, they just stood there—trembling, panting, holding each other up.

Then Reese started to laugh.

“What?” Liam asked, still catching his breath.

“We just had sex in front of the Stanley Cup.”

Liam glanced over at the trophy, still gleaming innocently in its spot. “We did.”

“That’s got to be some kind of record.”

“Probably not, actually. That trophy has seen some things.”

Reese turned in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” Liam cupped his face, kissing him back just as gently. “I love you too.”

“Best night of my life.”

“The Cup?”

“You.” Reese’s smile was soft, real, the kind he only ever showed Liam. “Always you.”

Liam pulled him close, holding him tight, the Stanley Cup glittering behind them.

Some trophies, he was learning, mattered more than others.

And the one in his arms was worth more than all the rest combined.

~ The End ~

Coming Next in the Boston Corsairs Series

Book 2: Between the Pipes
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Single Dad • Grumpy/Sunshine • Forced Proximity