CHAPTER THREE #2
There was no way in hell it was a good idea to get his pants down around this guy. The possibility of this going sideways was way too fucking high.
Only, he’d come this far already, right? And he needed this.
He could still feel that buzz under his skin and he knew he wouldn’t sleep until he got off. He wouldn’t play well in practice tomorrow and it might drag out for a few days of shitty play and bad sleep and … he was doing this for hockey, honestly.
So, he followed Vintage Jersey Guy down the hall and through a door that led to a narrow back stairwell.
As Crawford twisted his shoulders sideways to get up the stairs that led to the guy’s apartment, he had his doubts that what the guy said about having plenty of money was true. If this narrow hallway was any indication, he probably lived in a shithole studio.
But when Luke followed the guy inside, he blinked. Huh. The place wasn’t half-bad.
Oh, it was on the small side, no question about that. But there was a clean and tidy living room, a small dining area, and kitchen visible, along with a hallway that Luke assumed led to a bedroom and bathroom.
“You want a beer?”
Luke looked over toward the kitchen and scowled at the sight of the stupid jersey. “No.”
The reminder of who Vintage Jersey Guy was soured Luke’s mood, so rather than check out the apartment, he tossed his jacket on the leather couch, dropped onto the cushion next to it, then reached for his belt buckle.
Time to get down to business.
The guy snorted and for a second, Luke wondered if he’d said the last part aloud.
“Hey. What’s your name, anyway, man?” Luke asked. “I mean, I can keep calling you Vintage Jersey Guy in my head, I guess, but …”
“Sebastian Breckon,” he said, glaring down at Luke.
“Huh.” Luke looked him up and down. He didn’t know what a guy named Sebastian was supposed to look like, but he wasn’t sure this was it with his dark curly hair, olive skin tone, dark eyes, and square jaw covered in stubble.
Well, at least he didn’t have an ugly face. Shame about the personality.
“Okay. I’m Luke. You can call me Crawford.”
With a huff of laughter, the guy—Sebastian, apparently—dropped to his knees on the carpet at Luke’s feet.
“Can you at least take the fucking jersey off?” Luke asked. “It’s really killing the mood here.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he pulled it off, tossing it on the coffee table nearby. After that, he leaned in, not hesitating to get Luke’s belt open, his fly undone, or his dick out.
And he wasted no time getting his cock in his mouth either.
One moment, Luke was thinking that the apartment air was a little chilly, and the next, the top of his dick was smothered in wet heat.
Luke reached for Sebastian’s head without thinking, burying his hand in thick, soft hair that wrapped around his fingers, his eyes closing as a shudder rolled through his body.
He wasn’t hard yet, but the deep, wet suction made the blood rush to his cock, leaving his head spinning.
It wouldn’t take long at this rate.
Fuck, the guy—Sebastian—hadn’t been kidding about how much he liked to suck dick either. He was really going at it already, gripping the base and working his mouth over Luke in a steady rhythm.
“C’mon,” Luke said, spreading his thighs a little wider so he could thrust up into Sebastian’s mouth. He took it like a champ too, adjusting his angle and taking Luke deeper. “You can do better than that. It’s like you’re not even trying.”
He refused to give the guy the satisfaction of praising him. Sebastian liked to chirp? Fine, Luke could chirp his dick-sucking skills.
Even if he privately had to admit that they were fucking stellar.
And Sebastian clearly took the insult personally because he redoubled his efforts, tightening his lips and tongue and sucking harder, just like Luke had hoped.
“You good with me fucking your throat?” Luke asked a few minutes later, panting a little already because seriously, goddamn. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had sucked him off that well.
He got a thumbs-up in response.
Luke would have laughed but Sebastian was already taking him deeper, forcing Luke’s cock past the constricting tightness of his throat.
Luke shuddered at the satisfying gurgle that followed. “C’mon, you can take me deeper than that. I can tell you’re a slut for it,” he taunted.
He got an annoyed-sounding grunt in response, but the suction didn’t let up and the speed increased.
The sloppy wet sounds of his mouth on Luke’s dick only made him harder, and he could feel the ache in his balls where they were still crammed into his trousers, full and heavy and ready to pop.
He suddenly wished he’d taken them off, given the guy room to really work.
“You gonna swallow when I come?” he asked, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s hair, his thighs trembling from holding back. “Or are you too much of a coward?”
Sebastian didn’t really let him control the pace, but it still felt good to guide him.
He got another thumbs-up in response to his question.
Luke did laugh at that one.
Fuck, this guy might be an asshole, but he could suck dick like no one’s business.
Luke caught a glimpse of the stupid-ass jersey out of the corner of his eye and growled. “Fuck! I am going to enjoy it the next time you’re at a game,” he said with relish. “I’m gonna think about you down on your knees like this, gagging on my dick.”
He thrust up, fucking Sebastian’s mouth harder.
“You think you’re so goddamn funny with your fucking chirps,” he said a little breathlessly. “But I’ll know exactly what you are. A horny cocksucker who’s just begging to get on his knees for me.”
Sebastian dug his knuckles into the side of Luke’s thigh—where he’d blocked a shot earlier, which probably wasn’t accidental—but he didn’t stop sucking.
Just kept going.
Faster and harder and …
Luke threw his head back and moaned. “Gettin’ close so you better pull off or I’m gonna fill you up,” he promised. “Make you gag on my cum.”
Sebastian didn’t move an inch.
Luke came with a rush of pleasure that spread out from his groin to his fingertips and toes and left him shaking when it was over. He collapsed against the couch, spent. Shiiiit. That had been exactly what he needed. Better than he’d hoped even.
Sebastian pulled off with a filthy-sounding wet pop.
“Well, that was worth the drive at least,” Luke drawled.
“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” Sebastian said, rising to his feet. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His lips were full to begin with but now they were almost obscenely red and swollen. Luke felt a throb of satisfaction that he’d left a mark, even if it was temporary.
Luke snorted, doing up his fly. “Not the only asshole here, bud.”
Sebastian gave him an unimpressed look as he rose to his feet, his cock tenting the front of his jeans. “You’re not going to bolt without reciprocating, are you?”
“No,” Luke said, because the dude could fuck off with that bullshit. When Luke made a promise, he followed through. “You got lube?”
“I have lotion.” He gestured to the nearby bottle.
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” Luke held out a hand. “Give it here.”
“Wow, you sure are a charmer,” Sebastian said drily, walking away.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Luke called after him, still fastening his belt.
“To get some fucking lube, where do you think?” His voice faded as he disappeared down the hall.
“You couldn’t have been prepared?” Luke asked when he finally reappeared.
“I barely made it home from the game before you got here, you jackass. You were lucky I had time to do anything.”
“You had time to light candles but not get lube? Priorities, man.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to argue but Luke said, “C’mon. Let’s get on with this. It’s late and I want to get to bed. Unlike you, I have to drive home after this.”
“Jesus you’re a piece of work,” Sebastian muttered.
Luke held out his hand again and Sebastian slapped the bottle against his palm.
“How do you want to do this?” Luke asked.
Sebastian planted a hand against Luke’s chest and pushed him back down onto the couch. Surprised, Luke fell heavily onto it.
Fuck. He wasn’t generally that easy to move. Not at six foot five and two-hundred-twenty-nine pounds.
Then again, he hadn’t seen it coming or had time to brace himself. It had been the element of surprise was all.
Sebastian took a seat next to Luke, close enough their thighs pressed together.
Luke eyed him warily. “Hope you don’t expect me to kiss you during this.”
Sebastian snorted and reached for his fly. “No. I imagine getting kissed by you isn’t all that pleasant.”
“Good.”
When Sebastian shoved his jeans and underwear down to his knees, Luke had to admit, Sebastian had a nice dick. It was a good size, and he kept everything trimmed below so it wasn’t too wild looking down there.
Luke shifted to get a better angle, resting his arm on the back of the couch. Sebastian’s gaze followed, like maybe he liked the look of Luke’s biceps or his tattoos.
Luke couldn’t blame him. He thought he looked pretty damn good.
Luke slicked his palm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s shaft.
Sebastian let out a quiet hiss. “Of course you didn’t warm it up,” he muttered.
“Who the fuck needs warm lube?” Luke asked. “Fucking wimps.”
“There he is again. The charmer.”
Luke stroked a little harder, twisting at the top and watching Sebastian’s reaction. Taking note of the little hitch in his breathing when he swirled his thumb across the tip.
“Must do somethin’ for you,” Luke pointed out. “You keep coming to games.”
“I like hockey, okay?” Sebastian said. “It’s not that complicated.”
Annoyingly, he didn’t even sound affected by what Luke was doing. Luke gripped a little harder, speeding up his strokes.
“There are a lot of other fucking seats in the arena, bud,” Luke said, unimpressed. “You don’t have to sit near the penalty box every damn time to chirp me.”
“It’s my favorite spot!” he protested.