Chapter 10
Connor
The shit in Vox’s contract is ancient. The terms suck, and it hasn’t been updated from its original terms when he was eleven. He’s an adult now, but where the original contract had his grandmother as his power of attorney, it’s now Grey himself. That can’t be ethical.
What startles me just as much, however, is how close Vox is to my face when he speaks, and I almost go flying onto the floor. It takes me a second to recover from his proximity and the fact that his hand is now resting on my thigh.
Clearing my throat, I try to find my voice.
“Um, this just seems awfully outdated,” I say. “And your exclusivity terms are honestly the worst I’ve ever seen.”
Vox takes a quick glance at the screen before looking back at me, his eyes dipping to my mouth, distracting me even further.
“Oh, I signed an addendum, just keeping the same terms. It’s easier, so we don’t have to redo the whole contract every few years,” Vox explains as if it’s normal to be solely supported by one sponsor.
“But you’re more talented and capable than you were even just last year. Not to mention, your notoriety has really increased. I think you’re giving away too much of your profits, and you’re missing out on some really great opportunities like product endorsements.”
He shrugs. “I guess, but I just want to board. Letting Patterson take care of it ensures I get paid and keeps all the drama to a minimum,” he says, closing his laptop, clearly done letting me pick apart his precious Grey.
“Just be careful. And ask questions. A lot of questions. I know he means a lot to you, and has done a lot for you, but you’ve done a lot for him as well,” I remind him, feeling a surge of protectiveness that wasn’t there previously.
“Yeah. I hear you. But speaking of questions, I’ve got one for you.”
“Okay, let’s hear it,” I say, assuming he’s going to ask something business-related. Silly me.
“You meant to send those pictures of me on the simulator to yourself for your yank bank, and then you deleted the evidence, didn’t you?”
It feels like the rug was pulled out from under me. I hadn’t realized the blunder until Grey texted back. When Vox covered for me, I’d hoped that would be the end of it. But I should’ve known better.
How the fuck do I handle this?
Like a coward.
“No, I meant to send them to Grey and myself, to include him in your training. Besides, as you said, they’re cool pictures, and he can pass them on to the marketing team.” It’s weak, but my delivery is decent.
Vox leans over until he’s an inch from my face.
“Liar.”
The thing about desire is that it’s nearly impossible to mask.
The sympathetic nervous system is hard to control and is such a fucking tattletale.
Sweat is beading on the nape of my neck, I’m positive my pupils are dilating even further in this dim light to drink in as much of Vox as I can, and my breathing is rapid and shallow.
“Maybe,” I confess, shaking my head and leaning back a little. “I should get going.” My words say I’m leaving, but my body stays rooted to the chair while Vox’s hand remains rooted to my thigh.
“Could I have beaten you?” Vox asks, his voice low and calm, beckoning me down a dangerous path.
“Not with that time,” I answer honestly. “But it would’ve been close.”
Holding me hostage with another question clearly burning in his eyes, Vox finally asks, “What have you been doing for the last five years?
The brutal answer comes immediately.
“Surviving…barely,” I tack on at the end.
He nods, but doesn’t press for more. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says instead, bringing a flush to my skin.
“Me too,” I admit, and then decide to risk a little more in an effort to find out everything I can about him.
Oh, I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“Can I ask you something now?” Vox’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.
I know he thinks I’m about to ask if I can kiss him, and the disappointment in his features is almost comical in its immediacy when I ask, “Any idea where your name came from?”
“That was a wasted opportunity, Lang,” he says with a shake of his head and a teasing grin.
For you and me both, I think to myself. As far as I know, Vox isn’t certain that I’m attracted to men, but I haven’t done a great job in the last hour of hiding the fact that I’m attracted to him.
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t do something insane, like give in and un-waste the opportunity.
Vox sighs and offers an answer. “My mom was a model for Roxy. Dad worked for Volcom. They were probably high when they named me. I’m just glad I wasn’t born as Roxycom or Voloxy.”
“When you put it like that, Vox is pretty decent,” I say, laughing again in an effort to dispel the pressure behind my sternum. “Do you remember either of them?”
“My dad, more so than my mom, but still not much. I guess my mom continued to travel for work after I was born. My grandma never talked about either of them. I was too little to really understand anyway, and my grandma was there for me in every way a parent should be, so I just kind of accepted that being raised by her was how things were for me. We didn’t have much, but we had each other, and I never felt the need to waste my time searching for people who made it clear they didn’t want to be in my life.
That was the start of my abandonment issues, and ever since, I’ve just been happier doing everything on my own.
At least that way, if I get disappointed, I have no one to blame but myself. ”
A silence descends between us until Vox snorts.
“Sorry, you probably weren’t expecting that emotional dump.”
“No need to apologize,” I tell him sincerely. The mood has taken another serious turn, and the air feels heavy with desire as we share parts of our lives with each other.
Needing to create some physical distance, I stand. “Mind if I grab a glass of water?”
“No, man. Help yourself. Let me just make sure I have clean glasses,” he says, climbing off his stool to follow me.
He has one foot planted and moves to take a step, but the floor is wet, and his other foot shoots out from under him. Trying to gain purchase from something other than the wrought-iron backing of the bar stool, he latches onto me, but I’m unprepared for his weight, and we both go down.
I hit the floor first, and Vox lands on top of me.
“Oomph,” he grunts, landing on my chest. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” He shifts his weight, and my exhale is audible. He wiggles again, and my dick swells at the contact.
Fuck my life.
I grab his hips to prevent him from moving around anymore, and he gives me the sexiest fucking grin I’ve ever seen.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not that sorry?” I ask.
“Because I’m not,” he says, grinding his hips into me.
“Ungh,” I moan, unable to stop myself.
Vox dips his head, running his lips along my jaw until he gets to my ear. I shudder when his breath tickles my skin as he talks.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not that sorry about it, either?”
“Because I’m not,” I breathe.
“So those pictures were meant for you,” he confirms with a seductive smile. “You’re…” he trails off, clearly unsure how to tactfully ask about my sexual identity.
“Gay?” I finish for him. “Yeah.”
“Oh, thank God,” Vox says right before his tongue hits that spot just below my ear, and I snap like a fucking twig.
One arm snakes around his back while the other dives into his hair, forcing his mouth to mine. I need to taste him. I need to devour…
“Ahhh,” I whimper as his tongue dips into my open mouth. He’s not gentle, and his teeth sink into my bottom lip. It’s everything I want.
We come together in an embrace so hot we’re about to put his gas logs to shame as his mouth demands I give him access to every corner of my own. He sucks on my top lip as I use my tongue to trace the underside of his bottom lip until his tongue comes back to tangle with mine.
It’s the hottest kiss of my life.
My erection is now digging into his stomach, and when his hand grazes me through my pants, I pull back.
“Fuck, Vox. I’m sorry. We…we can’t. “
“The fuck we can’t,” Vox says before pulling my mouth back to his.
I groan and grip his biceps, needing to push him away but desperate to pull him closer.
Maybe I could let go and give in if this were just about doing something forbidden, taking something I want under the cover of darkness, never to be talked about again.
But with that one swipe of his tongue, I already know I’m a fucking goner for him.
His determination, his drive, his skill on a board, his desire for companionship, his fear of disappointment. Fuck, I understand it all.
Once will never be enough, and I can’t have more. If Grey were to find out, I’d be packing my bags, and then what? I’d have to leave Vox altogether, and that thought sours in my stomach because he needs me.
I try to peel my lips away from his, but when I angle my head, he just takes it as a sign that I want his lips elsewhere, and he dives for the flesh on my neck. Sucking and biting, I know he’s going to leave a mark. Hell, I want him to leave a mark. I wear a neck gaiter around the team anyway.
He briefly nips that spot below my ear again. The one that’s always sent me into overdrive before returning to where he’s branding me.
I’m so hard it hurts, but I can’t roll him off me because there’s a wall to one side and the back of the couch on the other.
Without my permission, my hips push up into him, dragging my erection along his stomach until I hit…
“Oh, fuck, Connor. Do that again.”
His cock.
Which is also hard.
At this point, there’s no turning back. I’m over the halfway point toward an orgasm, and my body refuses to not see this through.
But a warning is probably necessary.
“Vox, if I do that again, there’s a good chance I’m gonna come.”
I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.
He plants his hands on the floor by my head and begins shamelessly dry humping me like it’s the competition he’s been trying his whole life to win.
“I’m fucking counting on it,” he says breathlessly.
Are we really going to come in our jeans like horny teenagers? My cum is going to freeze to my skin the second I step outside, but I don’t have time to worry about that because Vox rolls his hips as he pushes into me harder.
My zipper is biting into my dick, but instead of lessening my arousal, the twinge of pain makes it even more electrifying.
“Oh, God, Vox. I’m about to come.”
He rolls his hips again, driving into me as if he were actually fucking me, and that thought sends me over the edge.
Leaning up to bury my face in his neck, I breathe expletives of ecstasy against his skin as I coat my boxers in cum.
“My turn,” he says, straddling my thighs instead of staying stretched out along my body.
“But I want your taste on my tongue when I blow.” It takes me too long to realize he’s talking about the mess in my pants, but I catch on quickly when his hands hit the button on my jeans, and I move fast to stop him.
“Just a swipe. Please? Can I?” he begs, dismantling my resolve as he continues rocking his hips, seeking friction.
Slowly, I remove my hands and nod in a daze as he unbuttons my jeans, shoves his hands into my boxers, runs two fingers through the mess, and sticks them in his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, you taste so good. I’m…fuck…fuck…fuuuuuck.”
I grip Vox tightly to me as he shudders through his release, but as soon as he’s still, the panic sets in.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” I say I because I’m in the position of authority here. Therefore, this colossal fuckup rests squarely on my shoulders. This evening started with me trying to warn Vox that Grey was taking advantage of him, and here I am, doing the exact same thing. “Vox, I’m—”
“I swear to God, Connor. If you say you’re sorry, I’m going to knee you in the dick.”
Against my better judgment, I huff a laugh.
“Okay, I’m not exactly sorry that it happened, but it shouldn’t have. That was a gross abuse of power, and I hope you know it won’t happen again.”
“That’s the worst news I’ve heard all night,” he says, nuzzling my neck, his body a limp noodle on top of me.
“I just…I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Vox asks sleepily, propping himself up on an elbow to stare down at me.
“Can’t jeopardize this job, your career, your concentration. The time trials for the Winter Classic are in two days, Vox. You need a clear head.”
“What if having orgasms like that makes my head clear?” he argues as he slowly starts rubbing against me again.
“Is that…are you hard again?” I screech.
He smiles. “Getting there. What can I say? I’m good at a lot of things.”
Including driving me to the brink of insanity, I think to myself.
Grabbing his hips, I still his movements.
“Look, I shouldn’t have let it get this far,” I admit. “I don’t regret it, but it can’t happen again.” He gives me a devilish grin, like he just accepted a challenge. “I mean it, Vox,” I tell him sternly, gently rolling him to the side so I can slide out from underneath him.
“I hear you…” he says, but the way he trails off tells me there’s a but coming.
“But?” I prompt when he stays silent.
“But you should know, I’m used to getting what I want.”
The implication that he wants me is almost enough to make my lonely heart—and my very interested dick—cave.
“Of that, I have no doubt,” I tell him. “But not this time. We both stand to lose a lot if anyone were to find out about this. So please, please accept that tonight was a one-off.”
“Maybe for you, but I’ll be getting off again and again to thoughts of your moans, the way that hickey looks on your neck, the look of drunken bliss on your face when you come, knowing it was me that drew it out of you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Vox. Have mercy on me.”
“I spent a lot of years being mad at you. I think I just found the best way to even the score.”
I don’t like the sound of that one bit.