Chapter Four #3
Shane shoved him and Rozanov stumbled back, pants around his knees. He laughed as he tumbled backward onto the bed.
Now that there was some distance between them, Shane could take in the full splendor of Rozanov’s mostly naked body.
Rozanov seemed to enjoy the attention, and stretched his muscular arms up over his head, grinning and arching his long torso.
He had dark brown hair on his chest and trailing down from his belly button to his bobbing erection, which was still slick with Shane’s spit.
Rozanov sat up and pulled his pants all the way off, along with his shoes and socks. Shane’s eyes fell on the way his stomach muscles flexed as he curled forward, and on his thick, muscular thighs.
Once again, Shane felt very young. Very boyish. He realized that he was still mostly dressed, and he wasn’t sure if he should change that or not.
Rozanov made the decision for him. “This is a bit...not fair.” He moved a hand through the air, back and forth between them.
“You want me to...”
“Da. Yes. Let me see you.”
“You’ve already seen me. In the shower.”
“I want a better look.”
Shane removed his clothes quickly. Being naked in the presence of other guys was not foreign to him, but there was nothing familiar about this scenario. He stood in his underwear for a moment, then tried not to blush as he removed them.
Shane stood with his arms out. Well?
Rozanov grinned and waved a hand over his own chest. “So smooth.”
“Look...”
“Like a swimmer.”
“I don’t...it’s natural, all right?”
“Yes. Come here.” Rozanov patted the bed next to him.
Shane blew out a breath and moved onto the bed. He lay flat on his back next to Rozanov, unsure of what to do next.
“What do you want?” Rozanov asked.
“I don’t know.”
“No?” Rozanov asked, and he leaned over him and kissed him. “Nothing?”
“I...”
“What about...” Rozanov pressed a palm against Shane’s erection and curled gentle fingers around it. “Okay?”
Shane nodded. It was shockingly okay for Ilya Rozanov—a guy, a hockey player, his rival—to have his hand wrapped around Shane’s dick.
“Relax,” Rozanov said, and kissed him again. His hand stroked Shane carefully, without lube, and Shane was spellbound. Rozanov’s soft, accented words and his gentle hands and his confident kisses were all working together to ensnare him.
Dizzy with sensation and lust, Shane lightly pushed on Rozanov’s shoulder until he was flat on his back.
Then, before he could talk himself out of it, Shane slid down his body and took his cock into his mouth again.
He wasn’t any surer of his abilities, but he knew what he wanted.
He wanted to get Rozanov off. He wanted to take him apart.
He let his jaw slacken and took Rozanov as deep as he could.
He was nervous about biting him by accident, so he kept his mouth open wider than was probably necessary and used a lot of tongue.
It was sloppy and very wet, but he could hear the encouraging sounds Rozanov was making.
When Shane turned his eyes up, he could see Rozanov had propped himself up on his elbows and was watching him give his first blow job with great interest.
Shane wrapped a hand around the base of Rozanov’s cock and stroked up to meet his mouth. When Rozanov arched and moaned, Shane repeated it, stroking him hard and fast.
“Hollander...fuck.” Rozanov switched to Russian, and Shane didn’t know what he was saying, but he figured he should probably get out of the way because he wasn’t sure he was ready to take a load in his mouth.
He pulled off just in time. Rozanov put his own hand on his dick to replace Shane’s mouth and stroked himself roughly until his release fell all over his own stomach.
Shane stared, dumbfounded. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
Rozanov flopped back on the bed, breathing hard. “Not bad, Hollander,” he said.
Shane was still staring at the mess on Rozanov’s stomach. His own cock was like iron. He thought about stroking himself until he came on Rozanov. He thought about Rozanov putting his mouth on him...
“Okay. Well. Good night,” Rozanov said, and moved to get up.
Shane’s mouth dropped open, and he was about to be furious when he noticed the playful, crooked grin.
“Fuck you,” Shane said.
“Did you need something?” Rozanov asked innocently.
Shane glared at him. Rozanov chuckled and grabbed some tissues from the nightstand so he could wipe his stomach off a bit.
“Lie down,” Rozanov instructed.
Shane did. Rozanov crawled on top of him and kissed him.
“You think I’m an asshole,” Rozanov said.
“You are an asshole.”
“I would not leave you like that.”
“No?”
He kissed him again. “No.”
As they kissed, Rozanov reached a hand down and gripped Shane’s cock. Shane gasped into his mouth.
“Let me show you,” Rozanov murmured, “how to do this.”
He kissed his way down Shane’s body, which felt so good that Shane forgot to be insulted. When he reached Shane’s cock, Rozanov greeted it with a long, slow lick with the entire surface of his tongue, like it was a fucking ice-cream cone or something.
“Jesus.” Shane shuddered.
Rozanov licked and sucked the head, tonguing the slit and pushing Shane dangerously close to the edge already.
He gripped the hotel bed comforter and tried to hold on.
Rozanov was shockingly good at this. How many fucking times had he met up with his coach’s son?
Shane felt like he should be paying attention—maybe taking notes—but his brain had left the room.
Shane reached down to run his fingers through the golden-brown curls of Rozanov’s hair.
He dragged his fingers down over the stubble on his cheek, the sharp line of his jaw.
Shane had enjoyed watching some truly hot girls sucking him off in the past, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced before.
Watching this big, beautiful man, who knew exactly what to do with his tongue and lips and—god, his teeth—work him like there would be a medal awarded for performance. ..
“Ah, god. Rozanov! I’m gonna...”
He expected Rozanov to get the hell out of the way, but instead he sucked him harder and Shane emptied himself into his mouth.
A stream of nonsense fell out of Shane’s mouth. “Holy shit. I’m sorry. Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Fuck. Wow. God.”
Rozanov pulled off, not at all hurried, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He laughed at Shane’s babbling. “Sorry? Why sorry?”
Shane choked out a hysterical laugh. “I don’t know! I just... I wasn’t expecting you to...”
Rozanov shrugged as if Shane was thanking him for bringing in the mail. “I don’t mind it.”
Shane felt stupid that he hadn’t even tried to...properly finish the job on Rozanov. This guy was determined to one-up him at every turn.
Rozanov sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Shane. He rolled his neck and idly rubbed his jaw. Shane sat up and swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed. He gripped the mattress with both hands and looked at the floor. He felt panic surge up in him again.
He heard Rozanov blow out a breath, which made Shane laugh for some reason. The absurdity of the situation was hitting him.
“You’re laughing.”
“Yeah, well...this whole thing is a little nuts.”
“I want a cigarette,” Rozanov said.
“You’re not allowed to smoke in the hotel.”
“I know. Stupid country.” Rozanov sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Bears told me to quit. I am trying not to smoke.”
“Oh. That’s good. Smoking is bad for you.”
“Is it?” Shane could hear Rozanov’s eyes rolling.
“So, um...” Shane said, still keeping his back to Rozanov. “This won’t leave this room, okay?”
“You think I will tell people?”
Shane sincerely doubted it. “No.”
“No.”
He felt the bed shift as Rozanov stood up.
Shane had the stupid urge to ask him to stay.
He imagined falling asleep in his arms and what the fuck?
This thing they’d just done was, above all things, a huge mistake.
As far as hookups went, Shane really could not have chosen a less appropriate person.
And even forgetting that, there was no reason to pretend this was anything more than a quick, no-strings fuck.
And why would Shane even want to pretend that?
He didn’t. He wanted Rozanov out of his hotel room. He wanted to forget that this ever happened. He did not want to reach for him. To pull him back on the bed. To do everything they just did two or three more times.
When Rozanov was fully dressed, he gave Shane one of his playful, crooked smiles. Shane had managed to put his underwear back on, but other than that, was still naked.
“My flight is early tomorrow,” Rozanov said. There was maybe a note of apology in it. Or maybe Shane was imagining things.
“All right.”
Rozanov nodded. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” Shane said awkwardly. “I’ll see you on the ice, I guess.”
“Yes.”
Shane wanted to kiss him one more time, because he was sure he would never get the chance again. But Rozanov was already opening the door.
“Goodbye, Hollander.”
“Bye,” Shane said to the closed door.