Chapter 2 #2
A strong hand grips my shaft and another husky moan slips out of me. “What time is it?” My head is still foggy from sleep. My plan had been to sneak back into our bedroom after Blake left, but I must have passed out the moment after my head hit the lumpy pillow.
“Eleven-thirty.” His voice is soft. “I won’t keep you awake long, promise. I just… Mmm.” The noise he makes sounds like it’s wrenched deep from his soul. “I missed you so fucking much.”
The resentment I’d been wearing like a shield all night disintegrates to dust. I missed him too, and I’d be a real asshole if I held Blake’s unwelcome interruption against Wes.
It wasn’t his fault that his teammate popped by.
And it’s not his fault he has to travel so much.
We both knew going into this that as long as Wes was playing professional hockey, there would be long absences to deal with.
I weave my hands through his dark hair and yank him up. “C’mere,” I say gruffly.
His warm, muscular body slides up and covers mine, and I tug his head down for a kiss. I love his lips. They’re firm and hungry. They’re magic. Our kisses deepen, growing more and more desperate as our bodies rock on the mattress, making it squeak uncontrollably.
Wes wrenches his mouth away with a laugh. “Dude, we are so lucky your parents didn’t have sex when they were visiting. This bed is so loud.”
“Would’ve traumatized me for life,” I agree. Then I’m kissing him again, because damn it, it’s late, I have to wake up in six hours, and I need this too much.
Wes reads my mind and thrusts his tongue through my parted lips. I eagerly suck on it, then grunt in disappointment. “I miss the tongue ring,” I tell him breathlessly. He’d taken out the piercing at the start of the season. I guess the team didn’t think it was safe.
“Don’t you worry,” Wes teases. “I can still rock your world without it.” A moment later that talented tongue is traveling down my bare chest and returning to my aching cock.
He swallows me up and my hips jerk off the bed.
Jesus. We’ve exchanged hundreds of blowjobs since we got together, but it never fails to amaze me just how good this feels.
Wes knows exactly what to do to get me off.
His confidence is a major turn-on, and he needs absolutely no direction when it comes to pleasing me.
Of course, that doesn’t stop me from muttering out orders.
But that’s because we both dig the dirty talk.
“That’s it, man. Lick the tip. Yeah, just like that.
” I have one hand bunched in his hair, the other clutching the sheets.
It’s been so long since I had his mouth on me, and the pressure in my balls is almost unbearable.
Wes’s tongue licks a slow, wet circle around my head, then glides down my length, over and over again, until my dick is glistening and my patience has run out.
“I need to come,” I grind out.
He chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you there.”
And holy shit, he does. The teasing licks turn into wet, tight pulls on my shaft that make me shudder in pleasure. His hand kneads my balls while his mouth draws me all the way to the back of his throat, sucking hard and fast until I'm ready to explode. Until I do explode.
Wes growls when I come in his mouth, but he doesn’t stop sucking until I’m limp and mindless. As the aftershocks of the orgasm continue to flutter through my sated body, I vaguely register that he’s beside me now. Kissing my neck. Stroking my abs. Nuzzling my beard with his cheek.
“Fucking love this beard,” he whispers.
“Fucking love you,” I whisper back. I somehow find the energy to lift one arm and wrap it around his big shoulders, holding him closer to me.
His erection is like a hot brand against my thigh, and when I turn my head to kiss him, he moans into my mouth and rubs that hard length against me.
So I run the back of my knuckles down his shaft and he hisses.
“What do you want?” I ask between kisses. “There’s no lube in this room.”
Wes grunts and flexes his hips against me. “We don’t need lube. I want your mouth on me.”
I shift a little higher on the pillow. “Get up here, then. Show the beard who’s boss.”
With a growl, he grabs the other pillow and shoves it behind my head. Then he swings a knee over my chest and crawls up my body.
My palm lands on his abs, and I spread my fingers wide. He feels so good under my hand—warm and solid. I’m tired of spending the night alone. I like the resistance of another body in the bed. When he’s gone, I miss being able to roll over and park my ass against his sleepy warmth.
But he’s not sleepy now. He spreads his big legs wide, and I grab his ass and tug him closer.
His cock is rigid and leaking for me. And coming nearer.
To tease him I clamp my mouth closed and he lets out an impatient noise.
Grabbing his dick, I sweep the head of it across my lips, tickling the underside with the beard on my chin.
Above me, Wes gives a horny shiver. There’s just enough light coming through those curtains to show me that the tats all over his arms look like shadows when he moves.
The masculine scent of him is starting to drive me a little crazy.
I stick out my tongue and taste him, and he gasps with anticipation.
My torture isn’t quite done, though. I crane my neck forward, smash my face against his groin and nip his pubes.
I swear he’s practically grinding his dick against my neck now, so turned on he’d fuck any surface of my body.
A desperate Wes is a fun Wes. I love forcing him to let go of some of that iron-clad control.
One sportswriter called him: “Impenetrable. Unshakeable. With nerves of steel.”
I know better.
Trapping his eager dick with my hand, I slowly roll my neck, rubbing every surface of his shaft with my beard.
“Fucking hell,” he jabbers. “Killing me. Just suck it already.”
I kiss him once on the tip and he groans.
Then, all at once, I put him out of his misery.
Opening wide, I swallow him down. He gives a less-than-manly cry that makes me smile around his cock.
So I pull off and then give him another good, hard suck.
I am merciless now. There’s no rhythm, just ambition.
Sucking, licking, swallowing. He thrusts haphazardly, just enjoying the ride.
And it’s only a couple of minutes later when he takes a deep breath and says, “Here I fucking come.”
And the man isn’t lying. He pumps into my mouth more times than I can count, and I swallow a week’s worth of sexual tension.
Then my head flops back against the pillows, and I feel the exhaustion creep in again.
Above me, Wes drops his head, and I watch his chest heave as he gulps down oxygen.
Lifting both hands, I spread my fingers across his ribcage.
“You look thinner,” I say, my thumb sweeping the smooth skin of his chest.
“I’m down fifteen pounds since the season started.”
“Fifteen?” I know players sometimes lose a little weight. But fifteen?
“Yeah. It happens.”
I pull him down, and he has to roll off me so we can hold each other. “That’s too much to lose,” I murmur in his ear. “More enchiladas for you.”
“You make it, I’ll eat it.” He buries his face in my neck. “Jamie?”
“Mmm?”
“I think there’s jizz in your beard.”
“Gross.”
He laughs. “Is that gonna be an issue?”
“Dunno. It’s my first beard, and you’re the first one to splooge in it.”
His voice is muffled. “Can we get in our bed now?”
“Uh-huh.” I close my eyes, though. Just for a second.
We fall asleep in the guest room, tangled up in each other.