Chapter Twenty-Four
In a sick turn of events, the bus for our away game broke down and we had to take a much smaller one.
Which means I’m stuck beside Rafael. As team captain, it only seemed fitting, but I’m not sure breathing the same air as this man is safe when he’s the one my thoughts turn to when I fuck myself at night.
I need to get laid.
Rafael’s outer thigh is smooshed against mine, pulling my thoughts back to him. My breath gets caught in my throat as he turns to face me, and I watch with rapt attention as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Sorry, tight space,” he says, but it’s the wrong thing to say when I feel like a horny teenager.
My brows climb, and I clench my knees together, swallowing thickly, giving him a small nod. My mouth feels dry. “Nothing you can do about it,” I say.
We cleared the air about my episode, but it doesn’t mean things aren’t still awkward.
They absolutely are, and for a multitude of reasons.
The first being that I’m sort of mortified over my behaviour, and I’m still trying to figure out how to pay off the debt I accrued while in my most recent manic state.
It’s not like this hasn’t happened to me before. It has, it’s just never been because I was dumb enough not to take my meds.
Sometimes when I need a medication change or my dose needs to be adjusted, I’ll spend an exorbitant amount of money on shit I don’t need.
It’s impulsive and reckless, but I can’t help it.
One time, I even took out a loan. It’s an unfortunate reality of bipolar disorder for many people, and I really try not to beat myself up about it, but it’s hard.
Especially when there are witnesses to the mania.
Witnesses I really wish hadn’t seen me like that, because now every time I see him, I’m reminded of my mistakes, and my hands start to feel clammy with embarrassment.
The other major reason things are so painfully awkward is directly related to the number of orgasms I’ve had with this man's face, and body , in mind.
Yep, mostly his body. One specific part of it especially, though his deep voice is really what brings me over the edge.
I feel his eyes like lasers settle into the side of my face, and when I refuse to meet his gaze, he settles a hand on my knee, giving it a tight squeeze before releasing his hold.
“Everything okay?” he asks, the baritone of his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, not offering any more information as the air gets sucked out of the space between us, suffocating me.
He clears his throat but says nothing else the rest of the ride.
By the time we get back home, it’s late, but after an hour-long bus ride next to Rafael, I have some steam to blow off.
Leo and Noah are waiting on the porch when we pull into the driveway. I stifle a groan as I approach them. I’d texted Leo, but it seems he anticipated a need I didn’t have and invited Noah along.
“Hello, ladies, how was the game tonight?” Noah asks.
Letty waves him off, passing him to unlock the door, her high cheekbones highlighted by the dim golden light hanging in the centre of the porch.
“Enough small talk, Noah. It’s late, we’re tired, and we all know what you’re here for.
Just do me a favour and try to keep it down, yeah?
” Letty asks, her words curt and condescending.
“Yes, ma’am,” Leo says, saluting her with a wide smile.
I head up the stairs, knowing they’ll follow me. Cutting to the chase, I strip down and wait for them to do the same. “Getting straight to it, then,” Leo says, chuckling deeply.
“Noah, on the bed. Head at the end,” I instruct, wanting to get this over with so I can enjoy the orgasm-induced bliss in my dreams.
“As you wish,” the Brit says, stroking himself when he’s positioned at the end of the bed.
Leo sheaths himself with a condom, tossing one to Noah as I climb over Noah’s face, positioning my centre over his mouth.
He swipes a finger through my slickness, and I keen, arching into him.
“Already so wet, love,” he muses.
“Mhmm,” I respond, lowering myself further onto his face, hoping to suffocate him so he doesn’t speak for the rest of the night. He’s an alright bloke, but he gets on my last nerve with all the talking he does and his insufferable mentions of relationships.
“Shut up and eat, mate,” Leo says, smacking my ass harshly. Glad I’m not the only one who thinks he needs to keep his mouth shut.
A grunt leaves my lips, the sting in my backside subsiding quickly as Noah wraps his lips around my clit. Leo positions the head of his cock at my entrance, edging forward.
“Hold on, mate. Aren’t your bollocks going to be smacking me in the mug?” Noah whines, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Well, mate, we’re about to find out,” Leo says with a deep chuckle.
I plant my hands on the sides of Noah’s hips, hovering my mouth over him, and ignoring his grumbles of disapproval. I really bloody hope Leo’s balls are unshaven. This wanker gets more annoying by the day.
When Leo fills me up, it isn’t either of these men I’m thinking about.