Chapter 16
Lars
I can’t get our apartment unlocked fast enough after the team flew back tonight following our win. Thankfully, we do not have to spend another night in a hotel, unable to touch each other. The instant the door clicks shut, I slam Dylon up against it and fuse our mouths together.
He moans and I swallow it down, tasting his lust and grinding him against the door.
“I need you in my bed,” I say into his mouth. My desire has become a raging storm, building a frenzied obsession I cannot contain.
“I’m there.” He pushes me back, and his long legs rush down the hall, buttons flying everywhere as he strips off his shirt.
I’m steps behind and tackle him onto the bed so my bare chest covers his naked back, but we’re still wearing our pants. There are things I have to tell him before he gets naked and I get lost in his body. Confessions from my past so he understands my fears.
His breath hitches when we roll onto our sides to kiss. I have never been kissed the way Dylon owns my lips. He’s aggressive but sweet, as if he wants to pour all of his feelings into it. I could kiss him all night. The long wait for this seems trivial and well worth it.
His fingers play with my light chest hair and tickle my abs. He’s clearly unbothered by my body from the waist up, and my apprehension he will change his mind wanes .
Easing back, I lock eyes with him. “We should talk for a minute.”
“You are the worst.” His head falls back on the comforter. “Our team has cock-blocked us for days. Days! No more talking. I’m fine.”
“This is more about me than you. There is no turning back for me—especially after this.” This gets his attention, and his hazel eyes fill with concern.
“You won’t lose me.” He cups my cheek. “We won’t let that happen.”
“It’s happened before,” I admit, ducking my head, then steeling myself to say this to his face. “We were friends, but I was closer to his older brother. He played fotboll , or soccer as you call it here, in the Premier league so even though he was a couple of years younger, he seemed older. Boe was pure sunshine and an incredible mix of innocence and worldly. He lit up a room and could talk to anyone. We saw each other during the summer in Sweden. The three of us would get together but rarely go out in public because we would attract attention. Then it was just me and Boe because his brother’s boyfriend would get jealous,” I say, and Dylon rubs comforting circles everywhere his hands can reach. I do not mention Von by name, unwilling to divulge his pain along with mine.
“One drunken night, we had sex and decided we would see each other whenever possible. We made promises that were impossible to keep. We played professional sports on different continents, and neither of us was out. His brother went through hell with the European gossip sites when he came out. We were idealistic and very foolish.” This story has been locked inside me for years. I have not told anyone this.
“I guess you’re not friends anymore.” Dylon’s palm rests over my pounding heart.
“I lost his friendship and him.” I keep the terrible details to myself. “Remember your rookie year when I left hours after our last game?” He nods. “He was my family emergency. Boe suffered an injury and refused to tell his family the extent of the problems. He said he trusted me, but looking back, I allowed him to make bad decisions and carry a burden of responsibility.”
Dylon places a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you for helping me understand. Do I remind you of him? Younger, outgoing, super-hot,” he says, fluttering his lashes at me on the last words .
“I do not recall telling you he was hot.” I run my fingers through his hair, trying to smooth the indent from his hat. “You are very much alike in some ways but different where it matters.
“He told me his injury was getting better but he lied. He turned to pain medication to cope with the physical and mental pain. You are an open book.” The squawk in his throat is the only sign he does not like what I have said, and I pause so he can decide if he needs to talk.
“I’ve thought about drinking, and on my worst days, I’ve run through scenarios of where I could get more painkillers.” Shame washes over his face.
“But you didn’t.” It is not a question because I know it is true. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. Cravings are part of recovery, and I am here if you need to work through something and your sponsor isn’t available. I am in this with you.” His shoulders relax, and I pull him in for a quick kiss. “Do not be too hard on yourself. You put on a happy act sometimes, but it wears on you. Please do not hide who you are from me. He did and that is a deal breaker for me.” It would be impossible to survive that type of betrayal from Dylon.
Dylon lets out an incredulous laugh and sweeps his hair back. “You want me to be grumpy?”
“You don’t have to act upbeat and crack jokes when you’re upset. I want the real you and am honored you let down your guard around me. We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I ask for your honesty even if you think it will hurt my feelings.” The hypothetical is easy to promise, but at least he will know what I need from him.
“I can do that.” He hesitates. “Are you over that guy? Boe?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly. “We didn’t have a real relationship. You are too important to me to repeat the same mistakes.” I thought my relationship with Boe was serious, but my feelings for Dylon are deeper than an ocean and as inevitable as gravity.
“But you’re already doing it. Falling for an addict. Once an addict, always an addict.” He pulls away, but my arm hooks around his waist.
“You are more than that. Being an addict is a small fraction of the sum of who you are. You’re committed to your program and your sobriety. We cannot predict the future, but I am certain of you,” I say, and Dylon makes a face. He will not listen if I explain all his good qualities—loyalty, compassion, seeing the best in other people, the ability to connect with others and make them laugh. The list goes on and on. Instead, I tell him the most pressing thing on my mind.
“I want to date you, Dylon Felix. We have the day off tomorrow, and I planned a date day if you agree.” The breath whooshes out of me as he pounces on my chest.
“You are a closet romantic, Lars Drakenberg. I absolutely will go on a date with you. What are we doing?” His arms bracket my head, caging me in, but I won’t tell.
“It’s a surprise. Now shut up and kiss me.” I mimic his voice and am rewarded with an indignant yelp, but then his lips are on mine. We kiss and kiss and kiss, and I could identify his lips blindfolded in a sea of other men.
“Listen, not to complain, buuuut let’s get naked.” His dimple winks at me as his grin overtakes his face.
“Cheeky bastard.” My hand skims his bare chest as I reach for his pants but cup him over the material instead of unbuckling him.
“You’re teasing me.” He scowls but can’t hold the frown.
“No. I am pleasing you,” I insist, massaging him until he’s fully hard. “I want to undress you.”
“You’re killing me, Smalls.”
“Smalls?” I withdraw my hand. Nothing about me is small.
“Yeah, you probably didn’t see that movie as a kid.” He places my hand back on his clothed cock. “Carry on. Tease me until I come in my pants like a loser.”
“Would my touch really do that to you?” I hate he called himself a loser, but the thought that he cannot hold back stirs something possessive in me.
“You have no idea.” Dylon drops his arms out wide and spreads his legs in a starfish pose. “Do whatever you want. I’m yours.”
To oblige, I bite his nipple the way he likes and lick down his stomach as I wrestle with his belt. In my hurry, everything is taking too long. He’s so hard I’m afraid the zipper will catch, so I shove my hands down his pants to protect his precious equipment.
When he’s completely naked, I stand. “You look breathtaking.” Dylon’s muscles flex, and his back arches slightly. He’s laid bare and the most beautiful sight. It’s hard to decide where to look. His eyes gleaming with longing, or his red nipple with my teeth marks, or the tattoo I’ve finally touched and tasted. My gaze travels to the well-defined V leading to groomed hair framing his long cock, straining against his abs with a drop of precum on its head. The veins leading from his flared head to his sac beg me to trace them with my tongue. My head swims with gratitude and carnal fantasies of what we can do together.
“You have too many clothes.” He removes my clothes and hisses, “Fuck,” when our dicks slide together. “Why does that feel so amazing?” The sensation is more than the friction of his hot cock, it’s seeing him hard and as desperate for me as I am for him.
“It is you. Your body is made for pleasure.” I am on fire for him. Our body heat could melt all the snow in Swedish Lapland, sending avalanches of ice into the sea.
He plants his feet for more leverage and whimpers when I lift up to retrieve the lube. “Will you fuck me?”
Looking at him under me becomes too much, and I close my eyes for a reprieve. “Is that something you want?”
“I mean, isn’t it part of the whole being into guys thing?”
“ K?raste , no. Some men decide they are exclusive tops or bottoms. I am vers. Maybe for your first time, you can fuck me, and we can work up to switching. But not tonight. We cannot have anal sex before our first date.”
“That’s a load of bullcra—” He cuts off when I circle both our cocks with my lubed hand. “Fucking hell. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“Do you feel the way your head skims along my cock, caressing me? The way your balls drag along mine, trying to plant your seed directly in me.” We kiss while I jack us together, breathing in all of his sounds and making them mine.
“I need to watch you come. I’ve been dreaming of what your face looks like since hearing you orgasm in your room.” Deliberately bracing my arm to separate our torsos, we watch my hand on our cocks.
“Mmmhmm.” I have reduced him to sounds, and my head swells with pride .
“That’s it. Take what you need. Fuck my fist.” I murmur Swedish words of endearment that are too precious to say in English.
“Come for me. Let me taste you,” I grunt, and my arm shakes with the effort to hold myself up while his hand glides alongside mine.
He keens, calling my name, and spurts into my hand. His hazel eyes collide with mine, and they’re filled with green meadows, a thousand stars, and deep adoration. His mouth opens in a silent scream as elation overtakes him, and those stars multiply and twinkle in his blissful eyes. I’ll never find anything as beautiful as him. I come so hard my legs shake, and I collapse on top of him.
“That was…that was…fuck. Please tell me we can do that again. In like twenty minutes. Get some damn electrolytes and let’s goooooooo.” He says it like a South American announcer at a pro fotboll match when the team scores.
“ K?raste , there are so many more things we can do, but tonight we will do that again. Sleep here?”
“I live here,” he responds dryly.
“In my bed, you pain in the ass.” I grin, bringing my hand to my mouth and licking. My eyes roll back with his salty, musky taste. One more lick and I could get addicted.
“You’ll have to physically kick me out.” He grabs my wrist and tastes our cum. “So this is what all the fuss is about,” he teases, and I pull my hand away. “Gimme that. You’ve had this so many more times than me, so you should share.”
If he only knew that my experience is severely limited, but I will give him whatever he wants. “Next time you can suck it out of me.”
“Fuck yeah!” His tongue darts out and laps up the cum between my fingers. “Let’s see who can recover first.”