Chapter Thirteen
CADEN
I woke up with a start. My eyes peeled open and I blinked at the gray dawn outside the glass balcony door. For a moment, I was lost. The mist outside was unlike anything I saw on a typical morning. But this was far from a normal morning.
In the two heartbeats of wakefulness, I realized I was away.
In a hotel room’s bed rather than my own.
And when my left arm jerked to support me getting up, my fingers brushed against a heated body.
A sleepy snore of a grumble pulled my attention to the other half of the bed.
He wasn’t on his side at all but had pushed me to the very edge of mine and claimed all the free space for himself.
Beckett was sprawled out on his front on top of the comforter.
He didn’t seem cold. The room’s heating was fired up to unbearable levels.
Under the dawn light, Beckett’s features were soft and subdued.
He was naked. His right arm was stretched out over the other half of the bed.
His legs were spread wide, one bent and the other one straight.
His ass was a perfectly sculpted mound on an already breathtaking body.
His unruly, floppy hair fell over his brow and sides, a long-lost fade keeping it away from his ears.
He mumbled something in his sleep, probably complaining that I’d dared to touch him and disturb his rest. And then he turned around, making me gasp instead of breathing.
He lay on his back, legs still spread in a messy tangle, one bent at the knee and the other claiming even more space on my stretch of the mattress.
His abs were relaxed, but as firmly carved as mine and his chest rose and fell steadily.
He threw one arm over his eyes, revealing a light brown patch of hair over his armpit.
His other hand traveled down his torso to the massive morning erection that must have bothered him awake.
He gripped it once, idly, pushing his thick cock down, then letting it flap back against his abdomen.
It jerked on its own once, a moment later, but Beckett’s hand was back on his chest, scratching lightly over his firm pecs.
Why the hell are you so attractive? I wondered about that as I slowly got up, my own body reacting to the sight before me.
I had only just started exploring the joys of waking up naked next to a guy and I raced into Beckett’s bed like a moth raced to a lightbulb.
Or was pulled into it, I suppose. It was a more accurate way to describe just how I ended up here.
As I stood up and stretched, annoyed with the quick swelling of my cock and the shallowness of my breath that came with arousal, I decided there was no point in wondering. Whatever had led me here was long out of my control. We had sex last night. Nothing would ever change that.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to change.
His body had been so receptive to me and not just when I inserted myself inside of him, but when I touched him, too. When I sucked him off and ate him up, he went along with it like it was precisely what he’d hoped for.
I left him to sleep and entered the bathroom, ashamed that I had fallen asleep before I’d had the chance to shower last night.
I stepped into the shower cabin and let the hot water run.
It washed away old sweat and remnants of dried cum.
When I soaped myself up and massaged my muscles, Beckett was on my mind.
The entire thing had been almost like a fantasy.
It had felt like a dream. Even now, I couldn’t perform the mental gymnastics required to put Beckett into that situation and still have him be the person I had always known.
Not only had he slept with a guy, but he had eagerly bottomed for one.
And not just any guy, but the guy he had pushed around and dismissed at every turn for the past two years.
The tenacious relationship we had built over the years was founded on quicksand.
I had always been his superior in the team hierarchy, but he had never acknowledged it.
Instead, he became my captain, leaving me in an undefined, undetermined situation I hardly understood.
And yet, he leaped at the opportunity to sleep with me.
And I took little persuasion if I were being honest. I’d tried to push him away for his own good as much as mine.
I had tried to walk out on him because I hadn’t wanted to babysit a bi-curious teammate and teach him things.
But when I returned to the room last night, Beckett proved just how determined he was.
Seeing his bare torso and finding out that he had prepared himself for me was too much to ignore.
When I washed the soap off myself, I decided I regretted nothing.
I’d had plenty of one-night stands. This would be no different.
Beckett had gotten what he wanted and I had gotten a fun night for myself as well.
So long as I didn’t confuse the passion of our bedroom fun for something that wasn’t there, we were in the clear.
So long as I remembered that Beckett was, and had always been, a bit of a brat who claimed whatever he desired. Including sex with me.
That was a hard sentiment to keep at the forefront of my mind when I returned to the room and found Beckett awake, naked, and smiling. “When I opened my eyes and you weren’t there, I thought I dreamt everything.”
I snorted and glanced just slightly down from his eyes that he understood. “Doesn’t it feel like you took nine and a half inches last night?”
Beckett winced and moved his hips as if testing whether they worked. “Now that you mention it, I’m worried about tonight’s game.”
I hooked my thumbs inside the big towel I had wrapped around my waist. My dick would betray me any moment and start lifting the towel unless I acted fast. “Are you feeling good?”
We exchanged a long look in silence before Beckett rocked his head left and right. “If you’re asking me if I’m freaking out, I’m not.”
I gave him my most innocent smile. “Nah, I’m just concerned for your butt.”
“Oh, that? We’ll see.” He shrugged and hopped out of the bed. His hands felt his big cheeks briefly as he moved toward me. “Either way, I’ll return the favor, boy toy.”
I chuckled, taking it in good humor. “You must be delusional if you think it goes both ways.”
Beckett took my hand and I nearly jerked back, but allowed him to. It was oddly personal to have him hold it like that. But he was casual about it, looking into my eyes instead. “Why not? I know you bottomed before.”
I remembered mentioning it, but I was surprised he did, too. “It’s different with you,” I explained while he slowly lifted my hand toward his lips. “There’s a…balance of power…” My breaths grew shallow when he sucked my index finger into his mouth. “…I can’t let you…be in charge…”
He sucked my finger thoroughly, then pulled it out of his mouth.
He yanked my hand behind his back. I knew what he was doing.
It was a power move and I was too weak to resist. “Weird how I don’t see it that way,” he said softly, keeping a sharp gaze on my face while dragging my wet finger between his cheeks and pressing it against his hole.
I didn’t need much urging when he pushed it harder.
My finger stiffened and slipped inside of him.
It was only an inch, but it proved his point.
He didn’t look at it through power and control.
And it was, perhaps, the most adult thing he had ever allowed me to see about himself.
I let my finger stay still inside of him for a few heartbeats. He’d only winced once, a little, when I probed him.
The message was loud and clear. Topping or bottoming, Beckett considered himself in control.
When he squeezed his hole a little, I let my finger slide out of him. It remained on his rim, massaging him gently. “You really did a number on it. I barely felt that,” he said and grinned partially, then nudged me away.
Unable to breathe, I stood where I was while Beckett passed me and headed to the bathroom. I turned after him a heartbeat later. He paused at the door and waited for whatever I was about to say. I couldn’t wait to hear it, too. Words were swelling in me, but they never reached my consciousness.
Carefully, I licked my lips and inhaled. “It wasn’t just a one-time thing, huh?”
He shrugged with one round shoulder. “Not if you don’t want it to be, Jones. Why stop while it’s fun?”
Because it’s dangerous. Because we’re on the same team.
Because we hate each other… I couldn’t say any of those things.
In fact, I couldn’t speak. His little power play left me gasping for air and fighting the urge to follow him into the shower.
I could have him all over again if only he wiggled his ass one too many times.
I could have him against the tiles, gagging on my fingers and clenched around my base.
But Beckett’s grin widened. “Don’t overthink it.” And with that, he slipped behind the door and let the water run in the sink.
I dressed and searched for coffee on the ground floor. Luckily for me, Bridgette was up and getting the dining room ready. A pot of fresh coffee steamed as the cold air filled the hall through open windows.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” she greeted me with a tinge of wariness as if I was about to complain.
“You’re up early.” She methodically passed by the furthest wall and shut all the windows that had allowed some freshness into the dining room.
Tables had folded cloths on them and trays with plates, cups, and cutlery, all waiting to be set properly.
A cart nearby was full of last night’s tablecloths. “Was your bed comfortable?”