5. Griffin
CHAPTER 5
GRIFFIN
If I thought becoming Riley’s confidant was going to make me want him less, I was dead wrong.
Whereas I was trying to stop being such a horn dog around the beefy D-man, what I didn’t take into account was that listening to him get all soft about his secret ex-boyfriend would make me want to grab his face and kiss him.
To take all of that heartache from him and put myself in the danger zone.
Because Riley is still deep in the closet, and anyone seen with me is opened up to ridicule.
So I keep things light. Jovial. Making him smile before he can get lost in his memories. We talk as we go over plays, as we do domestic shit like laundry and dishes. There’s not a lot of silence between the two of us, but conversation doesn’t feel forced either.
It’s like we both have too much to say and—until now—no way to let it all out.
“Let’s talk bedroom.” I turn to face him on the couch where he’s actually folding laundry and wink.
He quirks a brow, and I swat my shirt out of his hand and whack him on the shoulder with it.
“I have learned very, very intimate things about yours and Matty’s relationship. What you haven’t told me though …” I lean in close and grin. “Is what position you play? In bed?”
Teasing Riley about sex is one of my favorite things. He never fails to get pink and flustered, and he does this thing with his hands when he’s trying to work out what to say like he needs them to be in motion.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say quietly. Maybe this is the line for him. Talking feelings is one thing but being open about the sex … that’s something else entirely.
He sends me a fleeting smile and wrings his hands out one more time before bringing them clasped to his lips.
“No, it’s fine.” The blond hair at the top falls into his eyes as he shakes his head, and it’s involuntary of me to brush it aside. “I fucked him, but he was such a bossy little thing. Lithe but strong. I didn’t mind being ordered around; in fact, I liked that he could tell me what he wanted because … I never knew what I did.”
“What kinds of things did he like?”
Somehow, Riley’s face gets even redder, and I prop an elbow on the back cushion of the couch and watch him.
“He, um … wow, this is weird.” He chuckles nervously and scrubs a hand over his eyes. “He liked having his body worshiped, I guess? He liked things slow, lots of attention on him. Not that he didn’t give it back—don’t get me wrong. If there’s a record for the world's longest blowjob and longest time holding out, I’m sure we’ve got it.”
Oh. Oh, that’s kind of hot. But I shouldn’t tell him that. He’s being vulnerable right now.
“Matty was the definition of a man you make love to. It worked out because I loved him so fucking much. I wanted to give him everything that I had.”
“But you weren’t ready to be out.”
His smile is sad as he nods slowly. “I wasn’t ready then, and I’m not ready now. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s holding me back. But every time I think about telling anyone … when I think about putting words to these feelings … my throat closes. I panic. Matty never cared. He had his own secrets, ones I’d never tell for him, not even to you, Griff. We understood each other. We loved each other.”
He drops his head to his fists. “But when Matty was ready to move on and be open … I wasn’t. I never wanted to hold him back, so when he asked me to talk to the GM about trading me to Boston so I could move with him, I told him no. That I wanted him to be happy and free, and that I knew he couldn’t have that with me.”
I hate watching Riley’s heart break. I hate seeing him relive what must be one of the most painful memories of his life.
“And I was right,” he whispers, finally looking at me and killing me inside because his eyes are wet. “Matty looked happier than I’ve ever seen him.”
I don’t know where Riley stands on hugging for comfort, so I offer a hand on his back and one on his thigh with gentle pressure.
“Don’t do that to yourself.”
“What? Be honest?”
“Beat yourself up.” I stand up abruptly and hold out a hand to him. “His happiness isn’t a failure on your part. If you’re half as attentive as a boyfriend as you are as a friend, you’re pretty incredible. So you aren’t ready to be out? Make the most of what you can behind closed doors.”
He gives me a confused smile but takes my hand and follows me across the room. “Are you about to tell me the upside to all of this is sex? Which I’m not having because random hookups kind of jeopardize the whole ‘in the closet’ thing.”
“It’s more about taking your mind off the sad things. Letting you imagine what moving on might be like.”
“That sounds more depressing.”
“Trust me, Riley.” I back myself into the wall outside the bathroom, pulling him with me and guiding his hand to the wall beside my head. “Pretend like you’re going to kiss me.”
Wide eyes show an edge of panic, and I put my hands flat on his chest. “You don’t have to actually do it. Just go through the motions with me.”
Slowly, he raises a hand to the side of my neck, gentle fingers carding through the hair there, and his thumb traces my jaw until it fits nicely beneath and tilts my chin up. His mouth comes so close to mine I wonder if he’ll actually do it, but he stops a breath away that leaves every muscle aching to chase him.
“Good. Don’t think about what Matty liked. Think about what you like. What you want to try. Move your hands wherever. I’ll stay right here.”
It doesn’t take much encouragement for him to lose a hand in my hair, twisting and tugging until the pressure hits just right, and an involuntary moan slips past my lips.
He freezes for half a second, and then he’s pulling on me with more force, dropping his free hand to my chest and forcing me tighter against the wall. There’s a pause, he steps back a fraction, and with his hand in my hair, I follow.
Then, he slams me into the wall as he lowers his lips in mock kisses along my neck. The groan that leaves me is one of unmistakable arousal and not pain.
“I’m not delicate, Easton,” I whisper into his ear as he digs his nose into my throat. “If you need to be rough, I can take it.”
The next thing I know, he’s yanking my legs around his hips and rutting his hard cock into the crease of my thigh.
Fuck.
He smacks a hand on the wall, the other circled around my waist to keep me secure.
“Bold move, big guy,” I say on a breathy exhale, and he looks up at me with half a sheepish smile.
“Sorry. I just …”
I grip the collar of his shirt and shake my head. “I’ve been teasing you for months. Want to give it back to me?”
I’m sure there’s a line between pretending and the real thing, but I wouldn’t know it if I saw it because Riley’s hands, weight, and cock on me are too good for me to see straight.
“I want to pick you up and throw you on the mattress.”
A grin spreads across my face. “Yeah? Do it.”
Both hands grip me under my ass as he takes us away from the wall and across the hall to my bedroom. Not his. That might feel too real. But I can’t muster a complaint when he kicks the door open and quite literally tosses me onto the bed with enough force to make my head spin.
I like it.
“Feel better?”
He cocks his head and crosses his arms, examining me with a smirk that makes my own dick twitch in my sweats. It gets even more excited when I give him a thorough once over and see him stroking a thumb over the outline of his erection.
“Why do you insist on tempting me?”
Because I have no sense of self preservation?
I prop up on my elbows and ignore the heat telling me to pounce him.
“Because you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself.” His nostrils flare, but I continue. “Try and tell me it doesn’t feel good to have your hands on me. Tell me you don’t want to know what it feels like to be with someone who can take whatever you need to dish out.”
Riley looks at a loss for words, so I push up onto my knees and grip the band of my sweats to shove them down.
“I’m going to touch myself,” I say slowly, stripping my shirt off and trailing my fingertips down my chest. “If you want to watch, stay. If you want to touch … the offer is on the table. If I’m fucking this up, turn around, and I promise I won’t bring it up again.”
I’m out of my damn mind. But I want him, and he wants me, and I need to find a way to keep him from looking like a kicked puppy whenever we aren’t in practice. I want to see him smile, and I want to see that lust-filled look he’s got in his eyes right now.
He watches me as my fingers dip to my waistband. He watches as they slip beneath and toy with my cock, as I squeeze my balls in my fist and tug until a moan slips free.
Our eyes lock as he turns, but not away—no—he pivots just enough to shut the door, and then he’s gasping soft and needy as I free myself from my briefs.
Riley’s stare sends little bolts of electricity through my nervous system, feeding the ache between my legs that isn’t remotely eased by the firm grasp I have on my shaft.
“Oh god,” I groan on a slow upstroke, dragging the foreskin down to smear the buildup of precum. A few pumps and the awareness of Riley’s attention has me so turned on I could combust any second.
A rough, warm hand touches my cheek, and I lean into the feel of fingers tracing my jaw, walking down my neck, and groping my chest as something thunks the floor in front of me.
I open my eyes and have to squeeze the base of my dick hard to keep from losing this load too early.
Riley Easton is on his knees between my legs, gaze bouncing between my face and my cock like he can’t decide where he wants his mouth more.
“Gonna touch me, Easton?”
That tantalizing pink tongue peeks out to swipe across his lip, and his large hands land on my thighs.
“Thinking about it, Foster.”
My breath hitches as I give myself another slow stroke. “Think faster.”
He grins and forces my legs wider apart. “Is this what you thought about the day I caught you in the shower? Me on my knees?”
A whine dug straight from the depths of my need sneaks out, and I slam my eyes shut to ignore the hot breath that dips toward my cock. “Something like that.”
“Yeah?” Those thick fingers wrap around my shaft, replacing my own, and I’m putty at the first delicate flick of his tongue.
As much as I want to get lost in his mouth, I still have a few shreds of sensibility left in me.
It kills me to press on his shoulder, to watch him pull off and stare at me all lust drunk.
“I’m on PrEP,” I blurt out and cringe at how awkward it sounds. “I always use condoms when I hook up, and I had a screening when I first got here.”
He nods minutely and strokes a hand leisurely along my shaft. “Right. I didn’t think about …”
I shake my head. “Why would a closeted man who just got out of a two year relationship think about his teammate’s STI status?”
A puff of laughter hits my dick, and that shouldn’t turn me on more.
“Can I continue?”
Now that I’m done being reasonable and responsible? “Absolutely.”
Riley is slow and teasing with his kitten licks, keeping up the steady friction of his hand on my dick and experimenting with how he flattens his tongue over the frenulum. Our eyes meet, and I want to take that white-blond hair in my fist and force him down my dick, but I grip the bed sheet to keep myself still.
“What,” I rasp as he outlines the head of my dick with his saliva, “you had a boyfriend but never sucked dick?”
Goading him turns out to be a good gamble, because he grins up at me and gives the tip one lazy suck, slipping his tongue just inside the hood and making me shudder.
“Not one as big as yours.” He pulls the skin back just enough to fit his tongue in again and closes his lips around the head.
I take back my faux complaint, because he’s as talented with his mouth as he is with his skates—and he’s a marvel to watch on the ice.
I’m also not that big, but I have no plans of pointing that out while he’s licking my length and fucking my dick with the tip of his tongue.
It still feels like he’s playing with me, but all I have to do is catch him palming over his erection with the hand not busy pumping and twisting me for my balls to hit a ten on the ‘ready to blow’ scale.
“Riley,” I moan as my hips pitch forward, as he takes my dick halfway into the hotness of his mouth, and I lose all ability to speak. To think.
I shoot my hand out to tug his hair and warn him, but his eyes flick up to mine, and I swear this motherfucker smiles as he increases the suction and fondles my balls in his hand.
The only thing hotter than shooting down his throat is thinking about him returning the favor and filling my ass.
I let go, dick pulsing between Riley’s lips and aftershocks rocking my body like a thunderstorm.
Oh my fucking god.
I have to fall back onto my elbows to keep from collapsing entirely. When I can open my eyes without the world spinning, I see Riley gazing at me with a small smile while he wipes a streak of cum from the corner of his lips.
Hot.
“Holy fuck, you swallowed.”
He raises a brow, and I shake my head.
“No, I mean—shit, Riley, that’s hot as fuck. Do you want me to…?”
I gesture to the hard outline in his own sweats, and he audibly gulps. “Um, I haven’t … uh … been tested in a while.” He furrows his brow. “Matty and I used condoms for some things but not others.”
“I can give you a handjob if you want.”
The blood that rushes into his cheeks makes me wish I could lean over and kiss him. Maybe I can; we haven’t talked about it yet, and I don’t want to assume while whatever this is is so fragile.
“I don’t think this is in the ‘rebound friend’ job description.” His voice is strained, and I push a hand through the top of his hair to be comforting.
“We can mix it up. How about ‘Rebound Friends with Benefits’?”
He looks at me, and fuck I might die if I can’t kiss him soon.
“You’re okay with that?”
“On one condition.”
I lick my lips and urge him forward. At first he doesn’t get it, but a few more tugs and he scrambles onto the mattress, hovering over me as I hook an arm around his shoulders.
“Fucking kiss me,” I growl, and Riley’s smartass smile is more than willing to oblige.
His mouth is salty and sweet at the same time, languid tongue grazing mine as I gasp and groan. He dominates every breath I take, beard rubbing the sides of my mouth raw, and I don’t even give a shit.
When his hard-on brushes my thigh, I remember my mission and reach down to shove his sweats and underwear aside. He’s thick and heavy in my hand, and I can’t see because our mouths are too busy playing tonsil hockey, but I feel how he stretches my fingers and hear how each stroke draws delicious grunts and moans from his lips to mine.
It doesn’t take long. Maybe he’s been as on edge as me these last few months, or maybe blowing me turned him on so much his stamina is shot.
Or shit, maybe it’s just been a damn year since he’s had another man’s hand around his cock.
Whatever it is, he tears his mouth away to bury it in my throat, to bite down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder and empty his seed all over my stomach and chest.
He shudders as we both struggle to catch our breath, but he comes back up for a few small, breathless pecks before finally sighing with relief.
His bruising fingertips leave my hips and travel up my ribs, pause to squeeze my shoulders, then sink into my hair as he drops his face back to the crook of my neck.
I chuckle at his clear exhaustion from what was maybe two minutes of getting jerked off.
Is there any denying the physical chemistry after that?
“Griff?”
“Hm?” I find myself smoothing my hands down the curve of his back, but by the way he relaxes against me, I don’t think he minds.
“I still need that friend.”
I smile and bury my nose in his hair. “We can be friends who bone. Besides, I never stick anywhere for long. Neither of us will have time to get attached.”
A puff of laughter hits my collarbone, and then gray eyes are looking up at me as he digs his chin into my pec.
“I think I’m already a little attached to you.” His little lopsided grin has us both cracking up again, and once we start to feel the sticky after effects of his orgasm, we reluctantly separate.
Riley sits up and gives me space to push out from under him, and we’re both at a loss for words. It’s not awkward, though. It’s slightly serene.
“We have a busy as hell season if we want to put the Hornets back on the map,” I say. “We can be roommates—teammates—with benefits for as long as it works for us. No pressure.”
“No pressure,” Riley repeats, gazing down at the sheets. “Even if I have to keep you a secret?”
I move to stand beside where he’s still sitting on the mattress, linking my fingers behind his neck and urging him to look up. My mouth closes over his without warning, without preamble. His lips soften and respond under mine, giving into the rush of want that floods between us.
“You’ll be my secret, too,” I mumble as I break away. “My cherry picker.”
Riley snorts and drags me back down until my knees hit the mattress on either side of him. “That’s mildly insulting.”
I grin into the kiss he initiates.
“You’ll catch up.”