Chapter Thirteen
Rip
We didn’t speak, and Adrian didn’t get off at his floor.
Instead, he followed me to my room, and I locked the door behind us.
He remained close—I could hear his quick breaths.
My heart pounded when I turned and he stood there, hesitant yet with his chin up and his eyes steady on mine.
That nervous, shy kid had faded, and taking his place was a man.
I rested my hands on his shoulders. God, he was sweet, and I couldn’t forget how he’d stood by me tonight with my father. I couldn’t imagine Denis even caring.
“We had a plan. Pretend to be lovers to help you get your footing and give you some name recognition to help your career. Taking it any further would complicate things.” It physically hurt to leave him, but I walked away, kicked off my loafers, and sat on the couch.
Still avoiding him, I propped my head in my hands.
“It’s been a long day, and I think we should both take a step back until our heads are clear. ”
He should only know how I fell asleep every night. Wondering what he’d feel like next to me. Wishing he were under me.
He followed me to where I sat. “It’s already complicated, and I know exactly what I’m doing. You do realize Carver made your relationship public? People now know he’s your father.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Big deal. I’m not such a mega superstar that anyone will care. I’m just another fucking hockey player.”
Adrian sat beside me. “You’re so much more than that. A great friend. You help so many charities. And by coming out while playing professional sports, you’ve touched countless lives. You are a very big deal.”
I barely heard his words. “Why did he have to come? Why can’t he leave me alone?” When I was six and crying because I didn’t have a father, I’d needed him. Thirty years later, I was fine on my own.
“I’m not telling you what to do, but maybe it would be good to talk to him or listen to what he has to say so you can get it out of your system.”
Adrian’s words brought me up short.
“Talk to him? And listen to his lies?” Frustrated, I ran my hands through my hair. “What purpose will that serve?”
“Closure. He obviously wants to talk to you.”
My smile was grim. “More likely he wants to borrow money. Talk is cheap, but his debts probably aren’t.”
“So? Let him say what he wants, and you can walk away. But I know if I had any questions, I’d want the answers before sending him away forever.”
It was as if our roles were reversed and Adrian was the wise, older friend giving advice to the younger, insecure me. This was the first time I’d opened myself up, made myself vulnerable. And I was fucking scared to death.
“I-I can’t do this right now. We’re in the middle of a run for the Cup. I can’t afford a distraction from that goal.”
“Tell Carver exactly that—you’ll be willing to talk to him once the season is over and you win the Cup.”
My lips twitched. “You’ve got it all worked out, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes. “But it’s what I think is best for you. And that’s all I care about.” He ducked his head. “I mean, you said it…we’re friends, aren’t we? And friends help each other.”
“You’ve helped me. Maybe you’re right. It would be like an exorcism. Should…should I text him and say what you just told me? That I’ll talk to him after the end of the season?”
Again, I leaned on Adrian, and as was becoming more common, he helped me. “I think that would be best. You get to play the rest of the season without him popping up and distracting you, and he knows you’re agreeing to meet with him.”
Emotionally drained, I didn’t think and reached out to hug him. “Thank you. I appreciate your help so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Adrian said, his face in my neck, his voice muffled.
My lips touched his hair, and he trembled. “About what you said in the elevator…”
“I meant it, and I understand that we can have sex and remain simply friends. Nothing more.”
God, it was so easy to slide from temple to cheek, his skin rough with late-night stubble.
Our mouths met, and I cupped his cheeks, holding him steady as I took him in a kiss that left no doubt where we were heading.
I should say no. I was older. More experienced.
His brother’s best friend, and I’d said nothing would happen between us.
But none of that mattered when Adrian returned my kiss with the thrust of his tongue.
I sucked on it, and he slanted his lips over mine, twisting his fingers in my hair to lock me in place while he took control.
His dominance left me breathless and shocked to the core.
This wasn’t shy, sweet Adrian. He was taking me with him on a discovery of the type of passion I’d never explored.
“Yeah, that works.”
Greedy with a hunger that exploded through me like a fire waiting to be unleashed, I sucked his tongue, licking and biting.
I pulled apart his shirt, hearing the buttons rip away from the fabric but not giving a damn.
Dark-golden hair swirled across his chest and led down below his slacks.
I undid the tab and clawed at the zipper.
Adrian’s cock bulged, and I rubbed it, watching him squirm.
His skin flushed, chest heaving, swollen lips gasping, red and wet. I almost busted loose myself.
“Rip, Rip, please,” he groaned, and my dick throbbed. “Please. I want…”
“What, baby? What do you want?” At my words, his cock jerked, and the wet spot grew larger. “My mouth on you?” I traced the outline of his heavy cock through the thin cotton. “Is that it? You want me to suck you?”
His eyes flew open. “Yes. God, please.”
I drew his pants and briefs past his hips, letting them fall to his ankles, devouring the reveal of his naked flesh. His dick was thick and long with a leaking head I couldn’t help pressing a kiss to. Sticky precome flowed out, and I lapped it up.
“Mmm, so sweet and hot. You’ve been hiding your gorgeous self, haven’t you? And now it’s mine.” I traced the reddened crown with the tip of my tongue and gave it a brief suckle. When I grasped him at the root and took him fully to the back of my throat, a strangled cry burst from his gasping lips.
“Fuck, Rip. Yeah, yeah. Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t even if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t. Beneath me, Adrian quaked and shook, his fingers clawing at the fabric of the couch. Sweat gilded his face, and his hips thrust hard and fast. I sucked him, teasing the veins running along the length of his shaft.
“Mmm, so good.” I hummed and slid a finger past his taint, up the crease of his round ass.
A keening sound burst from his lips. I was transfixed—Adrian was wild and beautiful as he released the tension from his tightly wound body, coming hot and bittersweet, then lying boneless and twitching under me.
His eyelids fluttered, and he reached out with his hand. “Rip, let me.”
I shucked my pants and briefs and lay next to him. As if he knew my body, his hand moved warm and firm on my aching dick, his touch expert in wringing out an orgasm that broke me to pieces.
“Oh, baby,” I moaned and turned his chin toward me. Our lips met as he pumped me to completion. Warm come spread between us, but I held him close. He rested his head on my chest, and I played with his silky hair. The connection between us was impossible to break, and I covered his hand with mine.
“We should shower.”
“Uh-huh,” Adrian murmured. “We should.”
“Come on.” I sat up and slipped my arm around his waist. On shaky legs, we made it to the bathroom, where we soaped each other, rinsed, then dried off and fell into bed. I thought I’d be wide awake, but I didn’t remember a thing after laying my head on the pillow.
The following morning I awoke before Adrian and spent an inordinate amount of time ogling his naked body. He was beautiful—long legs, broad shoulders narrowing to slim hips. Full, kissable lips pouted in his sleep, and his hair lay in a messy tangle of waves.
It would be damned nice to wake up with Adrian every morning.
The heat of our attraction was undeniable, but it wasn’t only about sex.
I could talk to him—in fact, it was refreshing to spend time with someone not into sports.
Pleasure could be achieved in ways other than games won and goals scored.
Maybe it was time I thought about winning at life instead of a winning season.
His lashes swept up, and I met those pure blue eyes with a smile. “Good morning.”
Pink suffused his cheeks. “H-hi. Is it late?”
“Nah. Not even seven.” I lay next to him. “You sleep well?”
“Mmm, yeah.” He stretched, muscles rippling under his skin, and my throat dried. “Really well.”
He was too fucking tempting, and I needed to taste him.
I kissed him, sucked his tongue, and he moaned, his hard dick poking me, smearing sticky wetness on my thigh.
I took us in my hand, and with steady, hard movements rubbed up and down.
My thumb played over our sensitive heads, and Adrian groaned.
The scent of our sweat rose hot and thick.
“Come on, that’s it,” I encouraged. “Give it to me.” He spurted through my fingers, and I grunted and came, spilling on Adrian’s stomach.
We lay panting as thoughts whirled in my head.
Why not take it further? Our friendship was growing every day, and sexually?
No doubt we were compatible. With a grin, I wiped the sweat from my brow.
Adrian turned me inside out, and I wanted to explore that excitement.
Adrian sat up and pushed the damp hair out of his face. As if he’d made a decision, he straightened his shoulders. “I just want to say, I know you’re not interested in a relationship, and I’m not either, but I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”
My thoughts of a possible future died an ugly death. His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I’d learned long ago not to show emotion until I was alone. So I kept my face neutral and nodded.
“Me neither. It was fun.”