12. Riley
CHAPTER 12
RILEY
The Hornets pull a win out of their ass that has Rory Mullins dragging us all down the street to some club for victory celebrations. Griff and I tried to weasel our way out of it, but our tiny winger has a stubborn streak a mile long.
That’s how we end up at a table, half a dozen shots in as the buzz starts to settle.
“Canada can suck my balls!” Rory shouts as he throws back another shot.
Hawks and Mashburn are on either side of him sharing a look that means it’ll be a team effort getting our friend out of here. But it’s hard not to indulge when he’s all grins and hyper energy.
“Hate to break it to you, little man, but the PHL is all men, so buck up for some beard burn down there,” Griff says nonchalantly with a smile as he sips the same beer he’s had since we arrived.
After last night, I imagine he’s not in a hurry to get drunk again. Not to mention the heated looks he throws my way when the others aren’t looking.
Rory shrugs and throws his arms around his teammates. “Bring it on. I ain’t afraid of a dick.”
The beer comes out Griffin’s nose as he chokes and sputters on his drink. “Too far, buddy. Too far.”
I pat his back as Rory shrugs and reaches for another shot. One that Mashburn intercepts, causing the smaller man to pout.
“Maaaash,” he whines as Mashburn ruffles his blond hair. “Let me be sloppy!”
“I think you already are, short stack.”
Rory glares and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair until the front legs come off the ground. He mumbles something under his breath that makes Mashburn give him a quizzical look, and then the taller, broader man puts a hand on the back of Rory’s seat and forces it upright.
That hand comes to rest on the back of Rory’s neck, and he pouts like a chastised child.
The two of them were already thick as thieves when I joined the team, and they’ve only grown more inseparable.
“Speaking of dicks,” Griff cuts in, leaning his elbows on the table. “I could really use one right now.”
My pulse ratchets up at the look he throws my way, but I trust Griff not to out us so carelessly, so I swallow down the anxiety that weighs on my heart like the weight of the words I still can’t bring myself to reciprocate.
Rory doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s too bad your boyfriend isn’t here.”
“Too bad indeed.” He smirks as his hand finds my thigh under the table.
Our boundaries have always dictated that we keep all touches strictly friendly in shared spaces with the team, and though we’ve both pushed it in the past, we’ve never outright broken it.
This feels dangerously close to it.
“Locke likes to be possessive, you know.” I frown, but Griff’s grin only widens. “Leaving marks. Playing rough. Sometimes I come home a little beaten up, and he’ll leave some bruises of his own.”
Hawks whistles and shakes his head. “Don’t involve us in your foreplay. You want to rile him up? Go to the bathroom and phone fuck in there.”
Our captain’s gaze lands on me, and there’s something in it I can’t place. He clears his throat, and it passes, the table coming alive with laughter.
“But it’s so fun to mess with you guys. How about a little gay chicken to end the night?”
I freeze, and I swear I feel everyone’s eyes on me for a brief second.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, throwing his hands up. “I’m not gonna ask you to go suck someone off or anything. Light fun. Unless anyone here has a problem with it?”
Rory grins, Mashburn shakes his head, and Hawks just sighs. Griff turns to me, and that’s when I realize that I’m involved with this game, too.
Because the team doesn’t know I’m gay.
“I’m in if they’re in,” I say even though I’d rather just take Griff back to the room and fuck some sense into his pretty head.
Our winger hoots and jumps out of his seat. “Whatcha got for us, Thirteen?”
Griff and I lock eyes again as he scoots his chair back and motions for Rory to come around. He looks down at Mashburn like he’s waiting on permission, and when the big guy rolls his eyes and waves him off, Rory bounds over like an excited puppy.
“Sit on my lap. Not going to bite. Promise.”
Rory cackles and easily settles himself so he’s straddling Griff, and the only reason I’m not losing my mind is because the two of them don’t have an ounce of sexual chemistry between them. They’re both laughter and smiles with Rory’s hands on Griff’s shoulders and Griff’s hands on Rory’s waist.
“Alright, shortie.” Griff tips his head to the side and tugs his collar down. “Gimme your best shot at a hickey.”
Someone growls, and I’m only seventy-five percent certain it wasn’t me. Hawks laughs and reaches over to pat Mashburn on the back, so I’m making my bet the sound came from him.
“Down tiger. I’m sure he’ll give you one next.” His tone is playful, but Rory perks up immediately and swings his head to them.
“Yes, please! Ooh, everyone gets a hickey!”
I don’t know why he’s so excited, but he doesn’t waste time dipping his head to Griff’s neck and getting to work. Griff mostly laughs through it, but then his eyes land on mine and for a moment I see the arousal meant only for me.
He’s teasing me.
Rory hops off Griff’s lap with a pop and bounds over to me next. “Clockwise,” he chirps with a grin. “You in, Riley?”
Panic wades at the edge of my mind, but Rory’s light weight resting on my legs brings my focus back in. “It’s okay if you’re not,” he says softly, with a gentle look of understanding.
Rory is safe. My team is safe.
“Go ahead.”
He grins wide and immediately gets to sucking a bruise over my collarbone. It’s quick, dirty, and he’s onto the next before I even register that it’s happened.
Hawks handles the little bundle of energy awkwardly, but ultimately accepts his fate. It’s when he gets to Mashburn that the silent oaf grabs him by the hips and yanks him into his lap. Rory squeaks but laughs as he gives his best friend the same treatment he gave us.
Only he spends more time on him. Makes more noises. And the three of us not currently involved share a fleeting look.
When he’s done, Rory leans back and drapes himself across the table, knocking empty glasses aside but not off the surface entirely.
“All done. What’s my prize?”
He blinks up at us like a doe in headlights if that doe were curious and mischievous.
Griff props an elbow on the table and flicks Rory’s nose. “I don’t suppose ‘fuck your best friend’ is a good joke here?”
Rory is quiet for a moment, but then he flips himself onto his stomach, nearly knocking Mashburn in the face with his knees.
“Hold up. You all know I’m bi, right?”
Crickets would sound like thunder between us all right now.
“Um, no, little man,” Griff says. “We didn’t know.”
Hawks raises his hand. “I suspected.”
“Anyone else want to announce anything while we’re here?”
Mashburn pushes to his feet and picks Rory up by his middle, slinging him over his shoulder. “This one needs to go to bed and sleep off his ridiculous behavior.”
Rory giggles, and I get the feeling the alcohol is really hitting him. “Do you think if I slap his butt I’ll get in trouble?”
Mashburn lifts a hand goodbye as he grumbles, “I wouldn’t, princess.”
Rory pouts but waves as he’s carried out of the bar, leaving us with an odd, tight energy.
“Either those two are fucking or they’re painfully oblivious,” Griff says with a grimace. “I vote for the latter.”
“They have an interesting friendship. That’s for sure.” I reach for my crutches and push out of my chair. “I’m thinking I should get back, too. The drinks are settling in, and I’m gonna be ready to pass out soon.”
“Sleepy drunk is better than a horny drunk,” Hawks says with a shrug. “Need me to hail you a ride?”
“Already ordered,” Griffin pipes in. “You want to ride with us?”
I like that our captain doesn’t even blink at the insinuation we’d be leaving together.
“Nah. I’ll clean up and settle the tab. You guys go.”
As soon as we hit the cool night air, Griff puts a hand on my chest and eases me back against the brick wall of the building. His hand travels up to the splotch below my throat, and he rests his fingers over it.
“I think it’s only fair that I get to give you one, too,” he says, leaning in so his mouth brushes the bristles of hair covering my chin. “Since we’re playing a game and all.”
That smile is anything but playful, but I don’t stop him as he drags his lips down the opposite side of my neck, finding a spot that mirrors the bruise and putting pressure.
Purposeful fingers dig into my hips, tongue tracing the outline of what his mouth is about to do. I lose my hand in the dark brown strands of his hair and let my head fall back on the brick.
He sucks a rough, wet bruise on my neck and scrapes his teeth over it when he’s done. Instead of moving away, he stays and breathes slowly against my skin.
“I need you,” he whispers, throwing my own desperation back at me.
I’m still holding my crutches under my armpits, but manage to wrap him in a loose, stilted hug.
“You can have me, baby. I’m here.”
A puff of laughter hits my collarbone, and then dark eyes are peering up at me. “Are you?”
I pinch my lips to keep in the sarcastic retort and barely hold back a shiver when Griffin’s hand slips under my t-shirt to slide across bare skin.
“What if I wanted to kiss you? Dry hump you against this wall and not give a fuck to whoever might see us?”
“Griff…”
His eyes drop, and his fingers press into my side to a painful degree. “You’re only mine in the bedroom. You’re too scared to let me have you out here.”
Before I can reply, he’s pulling away. He throws on a smile and hooks his thumb toward the road. “I think that’s our ride.”
Then, he turns and walks away. Leaves me reeling with a puncture wound in my heart.
For a split second, I see Matty walking out the door. Those big, bright eyes brimming with sadness and tears as he kisses my cheek and bids a final goodbye.
I don’t want that for Griff and I.
So when I swallow the knot sitting at the top of my throat and hobble after him, it’s a split second, reckless decision to reach for him.
To turn him and press him to the side of the car before he can open the door. To abandon one crutch and grip the back of his head. To kiss him like my skin isn’t on fire at all of the eyes around us.
Right now we aren’t Hornets players. We’re just two men out for a drink with their friends, who happen to be horribly in love with each other.
The moment the hotel room door closes behind us, Griff presses me into it and cages my body with strong hands gripping onto my hair and hip. His lips close over mine in a heated search for contact, body blanketing mine like any closer and we might not be able to tell where one ends and the other begins.
The clattering of the crutches on the floor startles me back, but Griff reaches down and grips the thigh of my injured leg to knead it with steady fingers.
“I’ve got you. I told you from day one not to underestimate me.” A grin lights up his face as he presses me harder to the door and slides both hands under my thighs.
I’m perfectly capable of walking short distances on my own—even if I’m not necessarily supposed to—but the red-hot arousal that roars to life when he bears the brunt of my weight and pulls me from the wall is enough to make me okay with playing the damsel just this once.
It’s my turn to attack his mouth, and if I snicker when he stumbles and earn myself a rough squeeze before he drops me on the bed, then it’s only fair.
“Answer me this, Easton.” Griffin leans a knee on the bed between my legs and reaches down to pull his shirt over his head. “Do you want to be with me?”
My eyes trail the ridges of muscle along his abdomen but bounce to meet his as I shift focus. “Of course I do.”
He kicks his shoes off and shoves his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his favorite navy blue jock that cradles his cock and balls just right. We’ve been touching and kissing each other for the last twenty minutes, and there’s a fuzzy line between Horny Riley and Emotionally Attentive Riley.
“I need you to give me something,” he says, moving to plant his knees on either side of my hips, resting his weight on my pelvis and his hands on my chest. “You have everything, Riley. Every piece of me. All of the control in where this relationship goes. We’ve been at a standstill for years .”
His voice cracks as he slips his hands under my shirt and shucks it off. He raises up to pick at the band of my sweats, but he doesn’t remove them.
“I don’t need all of you. I don’t need more than you’re willing to give. But I need you to be willing to give me something.”
“What do you need?”
The velvet touch of his fingertips dragging down my chest and plucking at the hair there makes my stomach swirl.
“I need you to be a part of my life I can share. Not with the world. But with my parents. My sister. My friends. I need us to move beyond a secret fling that’s outlasted its expiration. This isn’t a fling. This isn’t hooking up. I’m in love with you, Riley Easton, and I need to know you’re in this with me.”
He’s not asking me this time. He’s telling me.
“Give me something, Riley. Tell me I’m not in this alone.”
You aren’t. I’m here. I’m always here.
Every time I try to open my mouth, though, it’s like I’m trapped by my own mind.
I prop myself up with one hand and grip onto the back of Griff’s neck with the other, and he willingly goes down until our foreheads touch.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” I say through breathless lungs, through my raging heartbeat. “More than Matty. More than hockey. This connection with you is everything.”
Yet, I still can’t push out those three little words.
He’s right, though. He deserves more than my promise. More than flowery language. I need to give him proof. Something tangible.
“Christmas,” I whisper, and his eyebrows crease. “Come home with me for Christmas.”
His eyes widen, and he pushes me flat on the bed with his face hovering over mine. “Like meet your parents? And your brother?”
Two years together and other than seeing them at the occasional game or after dinner celebration, we’ve never met each other’s families. I’ve heard about Griff’s dad, but he doesn’t come to games or call often. I’ve met his sister once or twice when she comes down for the holidays, but that’s it.
“Would they know who I am?”
Would they know what I mean to you?
“They’ve suspected. In the past. But I’ve never outright told them.”
He isn’t saying anything, and I close my eyes because I don’t want to see the inevitable hurt on his face.
“It doesn’t have to be a secret, but I’m not sure I can say the words.”
“What if I say them for you?”
My eyes fly open, and I’m met with Griff’s soft smile. “Hi, I’m Griffin. I’m Riley’s boyfriend.”
My chest swells at hearing those words from his mouth, at the joy reflecting in his eyes from saying them.
“I don’t need everything,” he says, the tip of his nose touching my cheek. “Just something.”
He kisses me then. A gentle press of his lips to mine, and then he’s sitting up fully on my lap and reaching behind him.
“I think it’s time to remind you what a bendy fucker I am.”
He coats my dick in one of his travel packets of lube, and I slide between his cheeks to his greedy hole.
The hole that gives for me as I slip inside, a slow, agonizing stretch that has Griff’s mouth open in a silent groan and his eyes rolled back in his head.
Fully seated, he rides me like the world is ending. Like life is on fire, and the only way to put out the flames is to milk me for all that I’m worth.
“I fucking love you,” he says, sharp and harsh as he slams down on my dick. “Don’t you forget it.”
How could I?
How could I forget a single thing about this hot-heated, beautiful man giving himself over to me?
I hold his hips, his thighs, under his ribs, wherever I can reach to feel a fraction more of his passion.
He’s undoing me. Unraveling my very existence the harder he fucks himself on me.
Griffin needs control, and tonight, I readily give it to him.
He comes, and he comes, and he comes, but through all the tears and overstimulation, he stays seated on my dick.
He rests when I get close and only goes again once I’ve settled back down.
It’s only when we both reach our limit does he let me fill him. Release into his throbbing hole as one last orgasm tears through him.
We come together, physically and spiritually, and I hold him after as if we aren’t both covered in his cum.
If I whisper a quiet “I love you too” into his sweaty hair as the snoring starts, it’s just me and the four white walls that bear witness.