Chapter 2 #4
Foxy? This guy and Eloise would probably hit it off well. If she could speak, I bet her slang would be the same. Foxy. Groovy man.
“Archimedes Kee, but my friends call me Arch.”
“Cool beans. So, Arch, are you pledging? If so, let me warn you about—”
The door flew open with such force that it slammed into the wall behind it. I leaped to my feet, eyes wide, to find one of Phil’s sloshed teammates—Bigsby or Biggie or something like that—gawking at me with hooded eyes and a red beard coated with beer foam.
“Kes, I found your girlfriend!” the massive mountain of redhead bellowed and then belched.
Phil appeared behind him, blue eyes snapping, and gave his teammate a shove from behind that sent the big man to his face on the rich carpet. I gasped. Kevin disappeared with a snap of otherworld energy, and Phil reached down to yank his friend up from the floor.
“Dude,” Biggie or Bigsby or whatever slurred as he was wrenched to his feet. The drunken footballer was all noodle-legged and missing most of his clothing. Why the man was wearing Union Jack boxers I had no clue, but that wasn’t really important. “I did you a good man.”
Phil pulled him up until they were nose to nose. “Archie is my boyfriend. He is a man. I am a man. We’re boyfriends. The next time I hear you say something like that, I’ll pound you into tapioca pudding.”
I hurried over and placed my hand on Phil’s thick biceps. His angry sight darted to me. “It’s okay. He’s drunk. Shit slips out. It’s okay.”
Phil tore his sight from mine to glower at Bigsy/Biggles/Bugle, whatever.
“Sorry, really, just…” Biggie then passed out and slumped to the floor. Phil released the hold he had on his arms then stood over him, panting, his chest pumping as he worked through his anger. I stood there by the fire, stunned. I’d never seen Phil Kestrel so irate.
“That guy is an asshole,” Phil finally said, his blue gaze flickering to me. “Sorry you had to experience that kind of stupid. I shouldn’t have made you come here.”
“No, hey, it was fine,” I fibbed as I stepped over Biggie/Bibsy/Berkley snoring away to slip into Phil’s arms.
“No, it wasn’t. You’re hiding in the library by yourself. This was stupid. I was stupid. I just wanted to show you off to the team, and all they did was make offensive and disrespectful comments about you the whole time.”
Oh hey, the whole time? What other cutting jabs had I missed, and did I really want to know? Nope, I did not.
He buried his nose in my hair and cinched me close, so close my face was smushed into his wide chest and my glasses bit into the bridge of my nose. “Let’s go home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Okay,” I mumbled into his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered. I hugged him a little closer. “I’m sorry for making you come. I won’t ever do that again.” He pulled back just enough to be able to kiss me so gently and with such passion that I nearly did a Biggie and passed out onto the floor.
“I love you too,” I confided after the kiss.
We snuck out the back door, raced to his truck, and drove home for our own celebration—naked and with lots of lube.
By the time we stumbled into my bedroom, we had already torn off our clothes.
With a growly, soft sound, Phil picked me up and dumped me in the middle of my big, rumpled bed.
Sapphire eyes hot with need and something primal, he dug under the bed for the goodie box.
We’d never used condoms, so all he had to find was the lube.
Prick standing tall and proud, Phil crawled between my splayed legs, then slathered my cock with so much slick it ran down over my balls.
The tickle made me wiggle, but that did nothing to stop him from saddling up.
Hands on his hips, my eyes locked with his, he sat down on my dick with an ease that came from doing this almost daily.
Even after a few months, we were always hungry for each other.
My eyes closed as he engulfed me, his tight ass clenching as I rolled my hips up.
“I love riding you,” he purred, taking my hands from his hips to place them on his ruddy nipples.
I knew what he wanted. With his cock dribbling on my belly and his powerful thighs lifting him and then dropping him back down, I took both his nipples between my fingers and pinched.
Phil howled. Thank all the gods that Grandpa and Monique weren’t home.
My boyfriend was a very vocal bottom. I dug my heels into the bed, thrust up, and got another yelp from him.
His ass was so hot, so slippery, so tight that I quickly felt myself edging closer to orgasm.
Headboard slapping the wall, I continued to roll his nipples as he fucked himself wildly.
“Jerk yourself,” I panted, my glasses now hanging off one ear. He was a little blurry but still the most gorgeous man in this whole county. “Come with me.”
“Oh shit, I love to hear you talk to me like that,” he growled and pressed one large hand to my sweaty chest, and the other he wrapped around his engorged cock.
I wet my lips at the sight of him stroking away like a madman, the purple head of his prick leaking steadily.
I began to pump up harder, thrusting into that sweet sheath while he pumped his dick.
Cum flew from him as he cried out loud enough to wake the dead.
I gave his nipples a hard twist. More spunk pulsed out of him, splattering my chin and chest. With a loud grunt, I bucked upward, driving home.
My balls tightened, and white light, hot as a comet, ran from the base of my spine to my brain.
Everything short-circuited but my cock. That worked really well.
It filled Phil’s tight ass and then some, seed leaking out when he rose up to free himself from my dick, then sitting down with a huff, impaling himself one final time.
His name tumbled from me. He fell forward, strong arms locked, hands on either side of my head, and caught his name with an inhale and a deep tonguing of my mouth.
Shudders ran through us as we tasted and nipped, licking deep then nibbling on fat lower lips until our heart rates dwindled down to normal.
“I wish we could just stay in this bed forever,” I whispered as I carded my fingers through his thick gold hair.
“Mm, me too, but we’d get skinny and die.
” He stole a kiss before easing off with a slight wince.
“Saddle sores,” he teased as he rolled to the side to locate a tub of baby wipes we kept close at hand.
He handed one back to me, then stood to clean himself a bit.
After I dabbed at my chest, I swiped my soft cock before handing the wipe back to him to drop into the trash can.
With a sigh, he slid under the covers. I quickly joined him. The cold air that leaked around our ancient windows made it hard to keep the bedrooms warm in this old place, especially with the door shut. Some mornings I swear I woke up and could see my breath.
“I’m sorry about that party,” he confided softly as I wiggled into his side. I really needed to take off my glasses, but I lacked the energy or knowhow to do so.
“Stop. It’s fine.” I kissed his chest, right over where his heart now gently but strongly thumped. “I met a very cool ghost.” His eyes flared at that news. “And I had a talk with Roxie about the next stream.”
His head rolled on the pillow in my direction. I didn’t hide my feelings well, for as soon as he plucked my glasses off my ear, he wrinkled his nose. “I’m not going to like this idea, am I?”
No, probably not. Hell, I didn’t even like the idea.
The things people did to earn a damn buck…