The Winner Takes All (Complete Collection)

28. Saint Dick

28

SAINT DICK

Beck

Time slogs on. I’ve never wanted an event to end so badly, but I also do my best to have fun. I hang out in the kitchen, chatting with Luke from the Leopards, who gives me a fist bump for my coming out interview, then to Hazel.

“I heard you’re a writer. Which book of yours should I try?”

She smiles, patting my shoulder. “You do know I write romance?”

I frown. “Um, yes. Why would that deter me?”

“Well, a lot of guys look down on the genre,” she explains diplomatically.

“I’m omnivorous when it comes to a lot of things, books included,” I say with a smile. “Now, tell me which book of yours to try.”

“Try Plays Well With Others. If you like it, I have a signing event next week with a few other authors,” she says.

I take my phone from my pocket and make a show of buying her book on my e-reader and downloading it in front of her.

She hugs me. “If you hate it, don’t tell me, but I already love you for buying it.”

I smile. “I won’t hate it. I’m sure I’ll like it.”

Hazel beckons me to step closer, then cups my ear. “Whenever you leave, I’ll make sure the party wraps up, and then you can come back in thirty.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Does she know everything about Jason and me?

She senses my unsaid question. “Don’t worry. I figured it out. But that’s kind of what I do. I got your back,” she says like I’m her friend now too.

Briefly, I picture being friends with his friends.

And, as I catch sight of Jason in the living room, toasting to Carter, I can see him being friends with my friends.

I like the images.

Eventually, Carter’s ready to take off, and I leave with him.

When I’m home, I take a shower, washing the paint from my chest. But I have a bigger goal than hygiene—jacking off. I don’t want to fire too soon with Jason, so I get one out of my system now, picturing tonight. Takes all of two minutes.

When I’m out of the shower, I pat on the aftershave Jason likes, then pull on fresh boxer briefs, jeans, and a T-shirt he’ll strip off in seconds.

Good. I want to be naked with him all night long. My phone buzzes from the bureau. A text flashes.

Hazel cleared everyone out. When you’re a block away, call me, and I’ll open the garage. Here’s the code to get into my house.

I grab some clothes for tomorrow, stuff them into a canvas bag, and then get the hell on my way. I’m bouncing with hormones and excitement as I drive and ring him when I’m near his house.

“And,” he says, as I hear a rumble in the background once he’s pressed a button, “you’re in.”

The garage opens, and I feel like a rock star as I pull in next to his car and cut the engine. The garage door closes, sealing me in for the night.

I get out of the car, punch in the code, and walk inside. His house is eerily quiet, especially since we were on the phone less than two minutes ago.

Weird.

I slide off my shoes, leaving them at the door, then pad up the stairs to the foyer, canvas bag in hand. I peer around the first floor. Black and orange streamers line the couch, empty glasses litter the coffee table, and plates with half-eaten chips and dip decorate the kitchen counter.

A gentle thud breaks the silence as Taco lands there, beelining for a plate of nachos. He sniffs the cheese.

I scoop him up. “Not a good idea, buddy,” I say, and the critter purrs in my arms.

I’m tempted to call Jason’s name, then hear the patter of falling water from upstairs.

He’s in the shower.

It’s a gift from Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the patron saint of two dudes fucking.

Saint Richard, I believe.

Gently, I set the cat down on the floor and then take the stairs two at a time. But before I reach the top, the faucet squeaks. The shower’s off.

Dammit.

Seconds later, there are footfalls from the main bedroom, and I turn down the hall toward the sound, stopping in the doorway and dropping my bag on the floor.

I stare shamelessly as Jason strides from the bathroom into his bedroom. A towel is slung low around his waist, and he’s drying his hair with another. Droplets slide down his broad chest.

Thank you, Saint Dick.

“Had to get the gel out of my hair,” Jason says, then tosses that towel on the bed.

“Glad it’s gone now,” I say, mesmerized, as I cross the room and rope my hands into his wet hair.

I kiss him hard and ruthlessly, setting the tone.

He’s on my wavelength, his hands merciless as he grabs at me, riling me up with his explorations. Soon, I don’t know who’s touching who. My life narrows to hands, heat, and breath. To us.

I break the kiss, look into his eyes, and say what he already knows. But I’m learning how much I love telling him my dirty wishes. “I want us to fuck. A lot. I want to do everything with you, Jason.”

He grabs my jaw. Holds me rough, the way I like it. “You telling me what you want turns me on so fucking much.”

I reach for his towel and whip it off, so his dick pops free, proud, standing at attention.

Quickly, but hardly fast enough, he strips off my shirt, and I shed my jeans and boxers. We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and muscles and need.

When Jason bites my neck, my dick twitches against his. When he licks my Adam’s apple, my whole body shakes. And when he rumbles out a throaty mmmm against my skin, my brain overheats right along with my body.

Breaking free of his grip, I meet his eyes. “I jerked off in the shower,” I tell him, thrilling at the naughty confession.

His eyes darken. He’s picturing me naked under the water. “Want to watch you do that.”

“Same,” I say.

“Here’s a preview,” he says, then sits back on his knees and grips his cock. Sliding his thumb over the head, he teases out a drop of arousal.

Groaning, I stick out my tongue.

He brushes his thumb over my lower lip, and I dart my tongue over it. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Bet you do too,” he says like he has a secret. “Get on your hands and knees.”

I blink. “Already?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Baby, I’m not going to fuck you yet. I won’t even be touching your dick.”

Oh God.

Oh hell.

I connect the dots, wild excitement tripping through me. In a flurry, I get on all fours. He moves behind me and palms my ass. I crane my neck, needing to watch.

“Mmm. Want you,” he moans, then he drops his face, kisses the top of my crack, and makes me shudder every-fucking-where.

My body feels heavy and woozy. When he flicks his tongue down my ass, my brain goes haywire. It sparks and crackles.

A warm brush of his tongue there . Right there.

My elbows wobble. My dick aches.

I had no idea anything could feel this good. I murmur something, I don’t know what. I’m grasping for words. I don’t know anything anymore except this decadent pleasure zooming through my body.

Noises surround us. Grunts and groans fall from my lips. But he’s loud too. With every stroke of his tongue, he moans. With every hot kiss, he murmurs.

He eats me like he’s obsessed with my pleasure, and I’m obsessed, too, with these wild, new sensations torpedoing through me.

He spreads me apart, teasing me with the tip of his finger while he licks. “You taste fucking incredible,” Jason murmurs, and he sounds like he’s high.

My entire body jumps with pleasure. “Want to do this to you,” I mutter.

He freezes, then kisses my ass cheek. “Yeah? You sure?”

So fucking sure. “Yes. Can I?”

Another kiss. “Next time. If you do this to me, I will come so fucking hard, and right now, I want to shoot inside you,” he says.

I’m cooked. We have to screw, stat. “Get me ready,” I demand, stroking my cock furiously, not even caring that I might come soon.

Laughing, Jason licks a long, slow line down my ass before he pulls away. “On your back and stop playing with that beautiful cock till I’m inside you.”

In a heated daze, I flip over, watching him stride to the bathroom, admiring every inch of his body. His muscular thighs, his thick cock, his strong chest.

I hear the sink, then the sound of brushing and spitting, and a few seconds later, Jason comes back to the bed, grabbing the lube from the nightstand. “You still good?”

“So good.” Telling Jason what I want in bed is freeing. I love speaking my mind to him. It’s the antithesis of worry. “But next time, you need to finish me that way.”

He grins, shaking his head in amazement. “You are the most fearless man, Beck,” he says, settling between my legs.

I’m so aroused, but I want to make tonight good for him too, and he likes it when I taunt him. I give him a show, parking my hands behind my head, lifting my hips. “C’mon. What’s taking you so long?”

“Such a greedy lover,” he says as he pours some lube onto his hand. Then, with a quickness I don’t see coming, he drops his face between my legs and hoovers my dick into his mouth.

Sparks skitter across my flesh as he hauls my cock down his throat and pushes a finger inside me.

My brain relocates to my dick. Hell, my heart too, beating in my cock. Everything aches intensely between my thighs. My entire world is there, right there, and Jason McKay is lighting up my body.

He sucks me deep, thrusts another finger into me, then crooks it just so.

“Ohfuckfuckfuck,” I shout.

My vision turns neon, billboards flashing brightly in my mind. I can barely withstand the pleasure whipping through me. But I manage this much: “Now. Fuck me now,” I demand.

My dick falls from his mouth. His lips are obscenely wet. He reaches for a condom on the nightstand, swiping his hand across the towel he left there.

On his knees, he opens the wrapper carefully, then rolls the protection down his shaft. I want to be a part of every moment, so I push up on my elbows. “Let me lube you up.”

“Do it,” he says, handing me the bottle.

I coat my palm, then slick up his dick. He spears my fist for a few long strokes, then bats my hand away so he can dip his face to mine and plant the most devastating kiss on my mouth.

“How do you want me?” Jason asks when he breaks the kiss.

“Don’t make love to me. Fuck me,” I tell him, then spread my legs, and lift my knees.

With one hand, he pushes the back of my right thigh up toward my chest. I’m so vulnerable right now, and I don’t care about anything but how I feel.

Ready.

He locks his gaze on mine. “You trust me, Cafferty?”

How can he even ask? “You know I do, McKay,” I say plainly, baring my soul.

“Then I’m gonna fuck you hard like you want.” He growls, and I’m so damn relieved that he’s not treating me like I’m precious. I don’t want him to go gentle with me.

He notches the head of his cock against me and pushes in.

I grit my teeth. And wow. Holy fuck. This hurts.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he rasps.

“Not a chance in hell,” I mutter, then grab my left thigh and open myself more.

His entire body shudders above me. It’s beautiful and sexy. “Beck,” he moans, then sinks into me.

All. The. Way.

The pressure is intense. The stretch is uncomfortable. But the sensation is almost good. The man I’ve fantasized about for two years sinks deep into my body, and I’m this close to pleasure. I’m even closer when he kisses me, a bruising kiss that overwhelms me. Then, with his lips barely on mine, he starts to move.

I haul in a breath, shivering. He swivels his hips, eases out, pausing, and then plunging back in.

There is no pain. Only pleasure.

“ You ,” he moans.

He can’t finish the sentence. I don’t think I can speak either. I can only grunt and groan as he fucks me in long, slow strokes. My skin buzzes with excitement. My bones rattle with lust as we find a rough and dirty rhythm. He doesn’t treat me like I’m a virgin. He pounds me like a man who wants to bury his cock in his lover.

“Harder,” I urge.

“Yeah?”

“I can take it. I want it.” I’m a fucking pro athlete. I can handle whatever he can bring. I reach around, grab his ass, and jerk him deep.

My body lights up with each jolt. It hurts in the best of ways. I’m being fucked within an inch of my life, and it’s everything I imagined.

With each punishing thrust, Jason gives me the sex I’ve been craving. Deep, hard, passionate sex with him.

Desperate to come, I slide a hand between us, gripping my length.

“Let me do it,” he says, then rises to his knees and takes over for my hand, jerking and fucking me and setting my nerve endings on fire.

I can’t take it. The wicked heat twists inside me and then bursts. I cry out, shooting all over my stomach and his hand. It feels like I’ll never stop coming. With one long guttural groan, he drives deep, stills, and shudders.

Then he collapses onto me, his slick chest against mine, his face buried in my neck, his lips tenderly kissing my skin. “That was sooo...”

“Incredible,” I say.

“You are just . . .”

“So are you,” I whisper.

My body feels used in the best of ways. I am spent, and I am happy. Especially since I’m not going to wake up at five in the morning.

Fifteen minutes later, I’ve taken my third shower of the day because sex is both awesome and messy. At least this one isn’t solo. Jason and I get out, dry off, and slide under fresh sheets.

In the dark, he reaches for me. “How was it?”

I know he wants an honest answer, but I love to have fun with him. “Not too bad,” I say drily.

He bites my shoulder.

“We can do it again if you want to try to improve your technique,” I add.

“I can’t wait to critique your technique,” he says, laughing, then kisses my neck. “Mmm. Make me breakfast in the morning, ’kay?”

I huff. “That’s why you wanted me to spend the night?”

“Maybe,” he says. A minute later, he’s asleep, and I’m exactly where I want to be.

Curled up with this man, sleepy and sated. The cat joins us, and I say goodnight to Taco too, because he’s definitely not a CockBlocker tonight.