Provoking the Punter

Chapter 12

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Garrett groaned against Chester’s lips. He hesitated for only a second before sliding his hands beneath Chester’s black T-shirt, because he needed to feel more of him. A few seconds later, he was tugging at the T-shirt, because he wanted everything.

Chester rocked back onto his knees and stripped off the offending T-shirt and tossed it on the floor. “You got condoms?”

Garrett blinked, and it took him too long to process the question. “Bathroom.”

Chester leaned over him again. “Why are they in there?”

Garrett’s hands swept over Chester’s back, over his sides to his hips… to his ass. He wanted to feel the hard length of Chester’s cock against him again. Chester got the hint, or maybe he wanted the same thing.

It felt like he was eighteen again, making out and doing everything to get off, except crossing that final line. He had, of course. It had been his boyfriend who had made the first move, volunteering to go first.

But this time felt different. He didn’t need more.

It was almost too easy to find someone to fuck, and much harder to find someone to kiss and touch.

And he hadn’t had this in far too long.

“I wasn’t planning on this.” He took another kiss, liking the way the ball of the lip ring pressed against his lip. What would it feel like on his cock? “We don’t need them.”

Both of Chester’s eyebrows lifted.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I don’t… I just want this.” God, it was so much harder when he had to say what he wanted when there was more than one option.

That he was allowing himself more than one option.

Chester smiled, but his body did that thing, that hip roll, where it was almost like he was fucking him. “I was hoping they’d be less clothing.”

“Yeah, less clothing would be good.”

Chester pulled away again, but this time Garrett kept a hold of his hips, keeping him close. He flicked open the button on Chesters’s jeans and dragged down the zipper.

Garrett lifted his gaze to find Chester watching him. His brown eyes gleaming golden and the metal in his eyebrow and lip glinting in the soft light. Garrett smoothed his hands up Chester’s abs, over his pecs, to the two piercings beneath his collarbones. “I knew you’d have more.”

Chester laughed and leaned in, stealing a kiss. “You haven’t found them all yet, honey.”

He’d done a thorough inspection of Chester’s cock and there were no piercings there. “I thought your dick would be pierced.”

Chester tugged Garrett’s T-shirt off and kissed him hard before his arms were even untangled. “Do you have any idea how long that takes to heal? I didn’t want to skip sex for that long, plus I’m not a masochist.”

“Are you suggesting I am?”

“You’re a gay NFL player… you tell me.” Chester slid back and stood, pushing down his jeans and briefs in one move.

“There’s a difference between choosing the hard path and being a masochist.”

Chester tugged on Garrett’s tracksuit pants. “Yeah, the masochist enjoys the pain. I don’t think you do.”

Garrett lifted his hips, and Chester grinned as he ripped the track pants off the rest of the way and tossed them on the floor.

“Fuck, you look good.” Chester swooped in and kissed him, knocking him back onto the bed.

Garrett didn’t resist. It had been a bloody long time since he’d been one hundred percent naked with another man. “You feel good.”

“You like this?” He did that hip roll again, and it was far too easy for Garrett to imagine his legs wrapping around Chester’s hips.

He hadn’t let himself think of that, mostly because he couldn’t imagine a stranger fucking him. He’d only ever bottomed with his boyfriend and there had been a level of trust there. To be honest, he hadn’t found it that good. He had no doubt, however, that Chester would make it good.

“Yeah… watching you… feeling…” the last word disintegrated into a groan as their cocks slid against each other.

Chester brushed a kiss over his lips. “It’s your turn now, honey.” Chester had been calling him honey from the moment they were alone. He didn’t know if he called everyone honey, or only the man he was fucking. Garrett didn’t care. Then Chester rolled off him and lay on the bed as though expecting him to follow.

He had also managed to move further up the bed, so only his feet hung off the edge. Garrett turned, and he licked a line from Chester’s bellybutton to one nipple. He needed to taste him. To feel every part of him.

Why had he gone this long without this?

He racked his teeth over the nub and sucked, half expecting Chester to hurry him up, but he didn’t. He waited, watching as Garrett paid some attention to his other nipple, before slowly making his way up to his collarbones and the dip between them, nipping and licking and kissing along the underside of his jaw, and his ear lobe. He breathed him in… The scent of beer and sweat and deodorant.

“You sure you don’t want to fetch the condoms?” Chester’s fingernails raked over Garrett’s scalp, down the back of his neck and across his shoulders.

“Yeah.” Garrett kissed him as though he had forever to explore his lips. “Or is that what you want?”

Was he doing this wrong?

He didn’t remember placing his knee between Chester’s thighs, but maybe Chester had left the gap and he’d filled it.

“I’m good, or I will be when you lower your hips.” His fingers skated over Garrett’s hip and wrapped around his cock, giving it a stroke, sliding his thumb over the head and slicking the pre-cum down the shaft.

“Don’t keep doing that.” Already his balls felt tight, and the knot in his belly was there, ready to be released.

“Or you’ll come? That is the idea.” Chester’s smile was wicked as he did it again.

Garrett closed his eyes for a second. Yes, it was and while he knew he couldn’t do everything in one night that he wanted to, in case he never had another chance, he didn’t want to rush either.

Chester released him. His hands cupped Garrett’s ass, and Garrett let himself be dragged closer. “I want to watch you move.”

Garrett snorted and shook his head. He didn’t have moves. “Like I’m fucking you?”

“Yeah… and next time, I might let you.” Chester’s leg hooked over his hip, and somehow his hand was between them, wrapping around them, so when Garrett moved, he was fucking Chester’s fist and rubbing against the hot length of his cock.

If he looked, he’d come. So instead, he kissed him, making the most of each touch. The way Chester’s gaze was on him, and the way Chester moved with him.

“Oh, fuck.” He couldn’t hold back if his life depended on it. His hips jerked as he came, spilling over Chester’s cock and hand.

Chester rolled onto his side, taking Garrett with him. His leg still hooked over Garrett’s hip and his hand around their cocks. Chester glanced down, watching as his cock slid against Garrett’s cum-slicked dick.

Garrett added his hand, mesmerized by each movement and each gasp.

Chester’s breath hitched, and he tipped his head back as he came with a silent gasp. Cum splashed onto Garrett’s belly. That was hot. Chester looked so hot, so unraveled. So delicious. He leaned in, took another kiss, and Chester moaned.

They were both sticky and sweaty, but he didn’t want to move because when he did, it would be over. Everything would crash back into him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the moment and Chester.

It was Chester who moved first, flexing his fingers, so Garrett had to release their now soft dicks. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I need to be there by eight, and then it’s straight to the airport because it’s an away game.”

“Are you playing?”

“No, but I need to be there.”

Chester opened one eye and peered at his watch. “You’re not going to get much sleep.”

“Are you going to keep me up?”

Chester’s lips curved. “That is extremely tempting, but no. I’m going to go home. Because I don’t think either of us is ready for sleepovers.”

That was true.

And the moment broke apart.

“Would you like a shower?”

Chester glanced at the mess on his belly. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get it going.”

Chester didn’t answer. He just unhooked his leg, freeing Garrett. Even though he didn’t want to be free, he wanted to be trapped beneath Chester, wrapped in his arms… hiding from the world.

The pressure returned as though trying to crush him. He got up and padded to the bathroom, turning on the shower while pushing away reality. It could wait until morning.

“Ugh. Gross.” Chester dropped his clothes on the bathroom floor. “No wonder you wanted my clothes off. You could have said something, and I’d have showered before.”

“I’m used to sweaty and gross guys, and you smelt good compared to some of them. If you don’t want to put your T-shirt back on, take one of mine.”

Chester considered him for a moment. “Like you’re my boyfriend or something?”

That wasn’t his intent, but then he noticed the glint in Chester’s eyes and realized he was being teased.

“You don’t date closeted guys and I don’t date, so clearly not.” Garrett tossed him a grin and stepped into the shower.

Chester groaned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“With your dimples and stuff…” Chester followed Garrett into the shower. “Because then I can’t resist you.”

Garrett pulled him close and kissed him. “That’s useful to know.”

“It means I can tell when you’re really smiling, and when you’re doing your fake media smile. You slip up sometimes and give them a proper smile.”

“You’ve been watching my interviews? Should I be concerned you’re a stalker?” This wasn’t weird, and neither of them was rushing to leave.

“I think you are the one stalking me.”

Garrett grinned and Chester licked one of the dimples before reaching around him to grab the body wash.

“I will take one of your shirts. Thank you.” His hands swept over Garrett, washing him, not himself.

And Garrett followed suit, letting his soapy hands drift over Chester’s body. “Just not one of the new ones. It’s too soon for me to be losing team jerseys.”

“If I’m taking a guy’s shirt, why the hell would I want a new one?”

“Because taking an old one means it will smell like me.” And they weren’t dating. Were they?

“Like I said, I’m not taking a new one. You can choose, or I can steal.” He gave Garrett a wink before maneuvering under the water.

He was out and drying off before Garrett.

By the time Garrett had wrapped a town around his waist, Chester already had his jeans on. He hoped Chester was dressing fast because he really wanted to stay, not because he wanted to run away.

Then why take the shirt and keep flirting?

He opened the wardrobe and pulled out, not his oldest T-shirt because that should be thrown out, but one of his old Copperhead’s shirts. The fabric was soft, and the team logo was faded.

“Are you trying to get me killed? I can’t walk around Austin in a Copperhead shirt.”

“I thought you were only wearing it to go home?” Because we aren’t dating.

“You’re right, it’s going to be far too big on me, anyway.” He slipped it on, and it was too big, but he liked the way Chester looked in his shirt.

For a heartbeat, they stared at each other as if knowing some line had been crossed, even though it was just a T-shirt. Chester stepped closer and put his hand on Garrett’s cheek. “I had a lovely evening. Please speak to Caitlin. She’s one of the good ones.”

And with those few words reality punched him in the face.

He must’ve winced because Chester wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight for a couple of seconds. “I mean it. Give them the heads up just in case… You don’t need to announce it to the world.”

There was a catch in Chester’s voice, as though he thought that was exactly what Garrett should do.

“I shouldn’t need to. It shouldn’t matter.”

Chester drew back and looked him in the eye. “Pick your battles, honey. You can’t fight them all without killing yourself.” He pressed a kiss to Garrett’s cheek. “You have my number if you need… if you want to talk.”

Then he walked out, the door clicking shut.

It was only then Garrett noticed Chester had left the room key behind.

Garrett stood there for a few seconds, considering going after him. Chester had done the right thing in leaving, and he didn’t want to ruin what had been a good night by forcing him to take it. He closed the wardrobe door and stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t turned a year older on his birthday. He’d become a different person. One who was holding his breath and bracing for a collision that may not come.

He didn’t want to spend the rest of his career, if he even had one, living in fear.