42. The Real Hail Mary
42
THE REAL HAIL MARY
Nate
I can’t ask what he thinks of my bedroom because my mouth is full.
Hunter’s too.
His tongue rolls along my shaft, his lips stretched nice and tight. I suck him deep. We’re on opposite ends of the bed, wrapped around each other.
And damn, my guy is going to beat me to the sixty-nine finish line. I’m so close, my thighs are shaking.
I try to stave off the orgasm as I squeeze his ass and urge him to fuck my face.
I go for the real Hail Mary. I thrust a finger inside him, and instantly, he drops my dick from his mouth.
“Holy fuck, you devil,” he shouts as he comes down my throat, panting and gasping for air.
I feel pretty clever, and then I’m supercharged when he’s back on my dick, finishing me off in his mouth.
My vision blurs as I fly off the world, it seems.
Then, when we settle, he switches positions, joining me at the top of the bed, his head on the pillow next to mine.
When Hunter looks at me with a woozy smile, I know this is my new normal.
“So, your bedroom is great,” he says.
“Because you’re in it.” I give him a quick, firm kiss then pop up and smack his ass. “We need to talk,” I say, “and I mean that in the best of ways.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I figured that out from the context and tone.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the kitchen, digging into dragon noodles from the Vietnamese place I love, courtesy of Ding and Dine’s food delivery. Hunter’s on a barstool, and I stand next to him at the counter. It’s so good to see him again. “So, I had this plan for tonight,” I begin.
Hunter gives me that cheeky grin I adore. “Did it involve a sixty-nine and incredible food, and then a nonstop fuck fiesta?”
I bump my shoulder into his. “Well, handsome, I didn’t know you were in town. I was going to call you and tell you what I’ve realized in the last two weeks.”
He sets down his chopsticks, his eyes curious. “And what’s that?”
I slough off the teasing and look at him with honesty and hope. “I’ve missed you. So much.” I give a what can you do shrug. “The every-second-of-every-day kind of missing.”
He smiles softly. “It was the same for me, Nate.”
I put my chopsticks down too, close the distance between us, and nudge his legs apart so I can slide closer and tell him everything I realized after I went to the winery with my sister.
“When I met you, I was in a down place. I was still hurting, and all I wanted was sex. And I’m totally aware this is not how you start a big confession.”
He curls a hand around my bicep, urging me on. “I have no idea how you start a big confession, and I think you should keep going.”
“After I saw you again at the stadium in October, I couldn’t get you out of my head. That day we spent in Vegas, then that night…Hunter, I was happy. I was so happy. I was infatuated with life and you and me and us.” My gaze drifts to my ring. “I’ve never stopped wearing it.”
“Me either,” he says, breathless.
I glance at his hand, then reach for it and thread my fingers with his, tracing his band with my thumb.
“The week in London showed me what a relationship can be like when you’re both fully in it. When you argue and work through problems. When you fuck and you kiss and you play. When you speak from the heart. So, I planned to call you tonight and tell you all that, but now I can tell you in person that I think I’ve solved the problem of the ocean.”
“You moved an ocean?”
“I wish,” I say, then take a deep breath and put my heart on the line. “I want to start over and try to make it work long-distance. I know that sounds impossible. I live in San Francisco, and you live in London. We both have jobs we love that aren’t going anywhere. But I’m falling for you, Hunter Colburn.”
“Oh, thank god you said that,” he blurts. “I’ve been falling for you forever, it feels like.”
His unrestrained excitement and relief are one of the reasons I adore him. He’s so upbeat and so real. I need him.
“So I came up with a game plan,” I say.
“Give it to me,” he says, wiggling his fingers.
“You travel to the West Coast a lot, and I figure I can fly to LA to see you as long as it’s not a game weekend. Or wherever you are. And then there’s the off-season,” I say, nerves and butterflies racing through me. This is the big ask. “It’s long. Six months long, Hunter,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “And I like London a lot. I like it with you.”
Hunter blinks, then breathes out hard, his lips parting in…wonder. “You want to spend the off-season in London with me?”
He sounds…flummoxed. Shocked even.
“Yes, I do. Is that scaring you?” I ask.
“No. It’s thrilling me.”
“Good. That’s so damn good. And we can be…boyfriends instead of…” But I don’t say husbands.
I’ve loved every second of being his husband, I don’t want to sully the word and make it sound like a mistake.
Hunter’s quiet for a beat, his eyes thoughtful. Then, he says, “Let’s start over, Nate. This sounds like a great game plan.”
Smiling and feeling all kinds of fizzy, I kiss him, then say with a sigh, “Maybe we can go to a dog park sometime.”
“Is that code for a new sex move? I’m down for it.”
That’s my guy. He’s down for anything. Which is one of the reasons I’m wild for him.