PROLOGUE #3
His hand moves to the waistband of my shorts and yanks them down.
Palming a scoopful of my ass, he squeezes it and sucks in a breath as he stares at my mouth.
Grunting, as though he’s battling with the urge to connect our mouths again, he buries his face in my neck and grinds up against my cock. I guess my confession was a bad idea.
Just live in the moment, Remy. Savor it.
I catch the soft stream of light filtering in from the living room, pooling on the floor as I hang on to him.
It reflects off his muscles, highlighting his mesmerizing shape.
It’s the first time the door has ever been left open.
It makes it feel like we’re lovers—real lovers.
Like two guys who live together and just barreled into bed after having been curled up on the couch, watching a movie.
It’s what I imagine being boyfriends would feel like and inspires my determination to not be the passive one this time.
If it’s just sex to him, I want him to know what he’s going to miss.
You’re supposed to fight for the things you want, right?
Pushing to get him off me, his weight makes the feat difficult. I give up and slide out from underneath him instead.
“What?” he asks, turning onto his side, confused.
It’s the perfect angle to give me the leverage I need to move a man of his size.
Pushing at his shoulders, I cover his lower half with my body as he falls onto his back.
I probably look like Jamie when he’s raiding our cabinet on one of his snack binges with the way I attack his zipper.
I want to blow his mind. I want him to stay or regret not staying.
If I can’t have either of those scenarios, then I want him to at least remember me.
There’s one problem with my plan, however.
I’ve never sucked his cock unless he’s fed it to me, so I’m not entirely sure he’ll be receptive to my boldness.
I love his commanding presence. It makes my knees weak with every word, every unspoken message, and each firm nudge to drop to my knees or flip over on all fours.
Yet, I want him like this just once. Tonight, I don’t want to abide by the unspoken rules we’ve created.
I hear a soft chuckle as I finally yank his zipper down.
Amused Chris is better than annoyed Chris, so I don’t stop.
His hips rise, making my heart flip. I grab the denim and the band of his underwear, yanking them down over the thick globes of his ass.
The silky, warm flesh brushes against my knuckles.
It’s so soft, unlike the rugged image of him from a distance.
His cock springs free, looking as strong and solid as the rest of him. It fills me with pride knowing I did that to him. I stop when I get his pants down to the tops of his thighs, unable to wait any longer.
“You want that, huh?” he taunts, gripping his base, just as I lower my mouth and take his tip in. “Oh, fuck,” he hisses. He arches his hips up, his muscles going rigid beneath me.
I made the Dean’s list and don’t give a damn right now. This—laving my tongue around Chris’ head and hearing his sounds of approval—is an achievement I’ll take to my deathbed.
His fingers graze my scalp, weaving through my unruly mess of brown hair and turning my flesh taut. His familiar salty essence has my tastebuds salivating, so I use it to my advantage, lathering him up as I take more of him in.
I don’t realize I’m moaning until I hear his voice. “You like sucking a football star? Seeing me on TV and knowing you had your mouth on this cock?”
I can’t say I blame him for being hyped up over his achievement, but it’s the corniest bedroom talk I’ve ever heard, and so not what I was thinking. Yet, it draws an embarrassing groan from me as my cock knocks against his thigh. What is wrong with me?
Jamie’s right. I do have a problem. He’d better not come home early. Problem or not, I will cut him if he interrupts us because I don’t want to stop. Either I do have a famous football player kink, or Chris can just say nothing wrong in my eyes.
The hand in my hair moves to the back of my head and is joined by another one. My pulse skitters, hopeful and curious. I know how to give him the perfect blowjob because he’s taught me exactly what he likes.
‘Just like that.’
‘Lick it.’
‘Yeah. Now, suck on the tip.’
His self-assured commands always leave me throbbing in wait.
It’s a delicious agony I’ve become addicted to.
Glancing up, I do what he likes, proving that I know him.
That I don’t need direction. That I’m a perfectly good ‘special friend’ who shouldn’t be thrown away.
Except his hands follow my head as I take him deep, and then I feel pressure, urging me further.
The look that crosses his face is sex drunk.
“Can you swallow it all?” he whispers, hopeful and maybe even a bit desperate.
Oh, hell. I’ve given him ideas. Just thinking about it has me closing my eyes and suppressing a moan. Exhaling through my nostrils, I relax my jaw.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” he gasps.
His fingers swirl through my hair, and then something touches my upper lip. Opening my eyes, I see not just his nest of dark curls in front of me, but one of his fingers. The tip traces my slobber-coated mouth. I can’t imagine how I must appear right now, cheeks burning.
“Look at this mouth all stretched around me,” he murmurs reverently, turning my self-consciousness into an accolade.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. I’m already about to gag, but I want this first to be with him.
Closing my eyes, I swallow. His tip bumps the back of my throat.
I hear him gasp again just as I gag and pull back, eyes watering.
Stifling a cough around him, I make a few shallower slides, hoping it will distract him from the chuffing sounds I’m making.
“Shit,” he whispers. “Did you like me in your throat?”
How does someone even answer that? Instead, I drop back to his tip, sucking on it the way I know he likes.
He lets out a contented sigh and shifts his legs, kicking off his jeans.
I reach down and help. When I lower my shorts the rest of the way, he bends a leg, hooking one of his feet into them.
Tugging them down, he kicks and sends them sailing somewhere behind me.
I feel his insole glide up my bare calf and his strong fingers knead my shoulder, loosening knots I didn’t know I had there. I’m pliant and spun up all at once.
God, I want him. Right now. Want to feel him pushing into me. Reaching underneath me, I give myself a stroke, unable to hold back.
“Don’t.”
I couldn’t have heard him correctly, but when I look up, he repeats his warning. “Don’t touch it.” Slipping his leg between mine, he pushes his thigh against my cock. “Touch me if you need to.”
And then he cups my face, holding me at his tip.
I stare, disbelieving, but move as he guides my head up and down over his glans.
We’ve never been face-to-face for this long during sex.
Granted, his gaze is fixed on my mouth on his cock and not my eyes, but it’s so sensual.
I shudder and have to close my eyes, getting lost in the feel of his glans passing over my lips.
The soft hair on his leg, the warmth—it’s too much to resist. I start rocking against him, grinding myself shamelessly on his thigh.
“Look at you. Did you wait for me?” he pants, his guiding hands becoming more unsteady.
The answer is that it shouldn’t even be a question. There is no one else but him. I didn’t wait—I pined, but that’s too embarrassing to admit.
“Did you?” he asks again in a tone that brooks no debate, his thumb tracing my lower lip as his thigh presses tighter against me.
A mewling sound escapes my throat, spilling all my secrets. He pulls me off his tip with a grunt, breathing hard, and gives himself a squeeze, teeth bared. For a second, I think he’s angry, but then I realize it’s something entirely different in his eyes.
Oh, fuck. He’s going to pound the shit out of me tonight.
Rolling, he swipes up the bottle of lube I leave by my pillow each time he comes over. It’s another grain of salt in the wound.
See, I want to tell him. The familiarity between us has reached this level of convenience. No one else will adore you the way I do.
Rising to his knees, he watches me wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as he slicks himself up with the liquid.
My breath catches when he shuffles forward.
I slide my hands up his chest in anticipation of another precious kiss to stow in my memory bank.
He circles an arm around me, pulling me close, but his mouth moves to the side of my neck, sucking on the skin there.
His fingers slide between my cheeks, lubricating a path and then circling my ring.
I tense, wondering if he can tell that I prepped, even though his gesture is thoughtful.
Slipping a finger inside, he groans against my jugular.
I grunt and close my eyes, gripping onto him and savoring the vibrations of that noise.
Did he dream of doing this with his teammates? Was I just a convenience to save him from outing himself in the world of his precious game?
The jealous thoughts are too ugly to give credence. I need to hold fast to Jamie’s sage advice earlier. I’m young. I deserve a night of recklessness that I may never get again.
“I’m ready.”
Pushing against him, I have half a mind to flop down onto my back.
Would he look at me like I’m being strange by wanting to do it while facing each other for a change?
I don’t have the heart to try, and I honestly don’t care at the moment, as long as he’s in me.
As long as he’s mine again one last time.
Dropping to all fours, I feel the mattress dip as he moves around behind me. His calloused hands glide across the small of my back, making me shiver before one latches onto my hip.