Chapter 8
EIGHT
RONAN
Ihauled myself out of bed and picked up my phone, resting in a charger on my nightstand.
Fuck, it was after two already. Evan would arrive in less than two hours.
I dragged my fingers through my long bangs, working out some snarls.
Drew had been here most of the night, but we’d made good progress on the songs we wanted to use for the next album.
Ambling toward my dresser, I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and slid them up.
My gaze shifted to my underwear drawer. Hell, should I be devious today and wear something sexy?
Would Evan approve or think it was odd? He had friends in the queer community, but it was doubtful he’d ever considered that men could wear lace and pull it off.
I rubbed my chin. I’d think about it while I took Bean out. He’d slept most of the night away in the studio while we worked. At least he should be well-rested.
Strolling into Bean’s bedroom, I took a quick peek into the main room, at the beer cans and empty pizza container resting on the table. Hell, I’d been too tired to clean up last night after our recording session. I had so much to do.
Bending over, I opened Bean’s cage. “Hey, buddy. Daddy has to hurry and prepare for his hot hockey player to visit.”
Bean stretched, pushing his front legs out while lifting his ass and then with a snort, trotted toward the doggy door in the main room.
I followed him and watched him jump into the backyard.
Fucking hell, I’d forgotten to lock it. Anyone could have snuck in here last night.
I had to be more careful. I needed to clean up, shower, and decide if Evan would like me in lace.
With a smirk, I grabbed a beer can from the coffee table and began cleaning up.
I’d opted for a pair of black lace briefs.
It’d introduce him to some of the sexier items in my stash, but not be excessive.
I cut vegetables for a salad at the kitchen island.
With Evan wanting pasta before, I’d decided lasagna was a good fit, but I’d used ground turkey to keep it healthier, and we’d have a salad with it.
Last night, I should have questioned him about dinner, but he ruined my train of thought when he asked for a rain check.
Had he thought I wouldn’t want to see him?
I glanced at Bean, watching me while he sat next to my feet. “Who’s a good boy?” With a slow grin, I snuck a treat from his jar and faced him. “We get to see our hockey player today.” I held the treat up.
Bean rose and wagged his tail, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.
“Sit, Bean.” I waited while he plopped his ass on the tile, and then I gave him the treat. “Good boy.” I patted his head.
My doorbell rang.
“Shit.” I flicked my gaze to the clock on the oven. It was four already? Rubbing my palms on my jeans, I jogged to the door, my pulse dashing through my body. Swinging the door open, I held my breath.
Evan stood on the entry, holding a bouquet of fragrant white lilies in a clear vase and wearing a snug white shirt, the buttons open at the top, with jeans. “Hi, Ronan.” He pushed the flowers toward me. “These are, uh, for you. I thought they’d look good in your place.”
Oh my God, he bought me flowers? No one had ever done that before. “Oh, thanks.” Warmth swept through my insides. I took the flowers and sniffed them—the sweet scent filled my senses. “They smell amazing.”
“Yeah, they’re star lilies.” He stepped toward me. “My mom always had them in the house. When the flowers open, you’re supposed to pluck the orange pollen things off or they’ll shed orange everywhere.” He sucked his lower lip between his teeth.
“Oh, okay.” I’d never had flowers like this in my house, only roses when I’d bought them on a whim. As my gaze found his, I stared for a moment. He looked different, more confident. Should I give him a quick hello kiss? Grabbing his shoulder, I leaned in toward his cheek.
He turned his head, his lips meeting mine, and then hooked an arm around my waist, deepening the kiss.
As we parted, he let out a soft laugh and dipped his head. “I…I was wondering how I should greet you today.”
“I’d never turn down flowers and a kiss.” I ticked my brows at him. “Come on in. I was working on dinner and making a salad.” I swiveled, strutting toward my kitchen while he shut the door.
“I’m making lasagna. I hope that’s okay?” I’d prepped the meal earlier and put it in the refrigerator, but we could order in if he didn’t like it. Setting the flowers in the center of my dining table, I said, “I made it with ground turkey.”
“Perfect.” He came up behind me, planting his hands on my hips and nibbling the base of my neck. “Fuck, you look amazing.”
He already wanted sex? “Yeah?” I tilted my head to the side, exposing the rest of my neck, and rocked my ass against his hips and his already plumping cock. My dick hardened toward my navel, snug in the lace.
As his breath grew ragged against my skin, he skimmed his hands across my form-fitting t-shirt.
“I can’t explain why, but when I see you…
fuck.” He pressed his dick against my ass.
“Turn around.” He left me for a moment and breathed in deeply, as if collecting himself, his gaze roaming downward, toward my solid cock, tucked inside my jeans.
“I want you to touch me this time.” He slid his teeth along his lower lip.
“You do?” I brushed my fingers along the bulge in his jeans. Hell, maybe it was better to have sex first. Then, it wouldn’t consume us the entire time he was here. “Should I get lube this time too?” He’d mentioned it last time.
“I…” He combed his fingers through his hair, scanning the floor. “Sure.” The corner of his lips curled.
I’d prepared this time and stashed lube in a few choice places. I strode to the kitchen drawer next to the sink and snatched a lube bottle from it.
“You keep lube in the kitchen?” He lifted his brows.
“Not all the time. Only for special occasions.” Like when certain hockey players are visiting who might start something at a moment’s notice.
As his smirk turned wicked, he rushed to me, grabbing my cheeks and claiming me in a hungry kiss. With a deep moan, he shifted a hand to my ass and pulled our hips together, grinding against me.
Hell, he enjoyed getting it on in the kitchen. I returned his kiss, slipping my tongue between his lips, rutting against him. As tension knotted in my gut, my balls ached.
He broke the kisses and, while panting, said, “Touch me, Ronan. I want your hands on me this time.” He swallowed hard and unfastened his jeans, freeing his thick cock, wet at the tip.
Oh, holy hell, what a sight. I opened my jeans and slipped them down to my thighs. Would he like the lace?
His eyes widened. “Is that? Are you wearing women’s panties?” Sinking his teeth into his lower lip, he rubbed the length of my firm cock and whimpered.
My dick twitched against his palm as a shock of pleasure jolted through me. “Fuck,” I rasped. He liked it? “They’re lace briefs made for men.”
“That’s hot.” He lowered his jeans to the floor, kicked them off, and dropped to his knees. “I’ve never sucked a guy, but…” He licked the lace over my dick, the wet heat of his tongue shivering across my skin.
“Oh, fuck.” I threaded my fingers through his hair. Hell, I’d been ready for something completely different. But this worked. “Are you ready for this?”
He buried his face in my balls, breathing me in, and then growled. “I don’t know what I’m ready for. Hell, this kind of a mind fuck.” He pushed my jeans all the way down, and when I stepped out of them, he rose. “Want you.” Grabbing my ass, he lifted me onto the counter.
I wrapped my legs around his ass, hooked my ankles, and pressed his hot cock against mine. The only thing between us was my thin briefs. With his height and long legs, we fitted snugly together. Gasping softly, I said, “Lift your shirt, or take it off—”
“It’s coming off.” He pulled his shirt from behind his head and tossed it onto the floor.
“You too.” His fingers shivered across my skin as they lifted my shirt from around my waist and over my head.
“Holy fuck, look at you.” His gaze trailed down my body while his fingers traced one of my pierced nipples.
As sensation rocketed from my nipple to my dick, a ragged groan escaped my throat and my cock pulsed against his, spilling precum into the lace.
His breath puffed against my cheek. “That’s fucking hot. Does it help, uh, are the piercings to make sex—”
“Yes, I like my nipples played with.” I was blowing his mind. Good. Pouring lube on my fingers, I reached between us and slicked his swollen dick, placing lazy strokes on it. “But be careful. It can make me come fast.” His cock twitched in my hand and a bead of precum formed at the tip.
“Jesus.” He rocked his hips while his gaze rose to meet mine, and he rubbed his fingers around my crown. “You’re so fucking hot. I’ve met no one like you.”
Leaning in, I bit his lower lip and scraped it with my teeth. “I seem to remember when I touched your nipple the last time, you got off on it too.” I tightened my grip on him with my legs and flicked his nipple.
“Oh, fuck.” With a shudder, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and a hand around the back of my head, then pressed his mouth against mine, his tongue gliding in and fluttering.
What his tongue could do to me…Slanting my mouth over his, I penetrated him with searing kisses, pulling our hips closer until his hot, slick cock thrust against mine.
I inched closer to the edge, the slippery friction between us teasing me with release. Just a little more. As our kisses became needful and messy, he nibbled my jaw, and his body trembled.
“Fuck, close.” His thrusts grew faster, harder, and he flicked a nipple piercing. “Want to see you come in the lace.”