77. Jackson
Jackson
The hotel room was sterile, silent, and smelled faintly of floor cleaner—a stark contrast to my house in Tidehaven, which smelled like salt air, old books, and, lately, just…
Ryan. I was lying on top of the covers, my leg hanging off the side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
I’d played the game, done the media interviews, and managed to be “Jackson the Joker” for exactly four hours, but the second the hotel door clicked shut, the mask had dissolved.
I was restless. I tapped my phone screen, and without even thinking, I hit the call button.
It rang twice before the screen lit up. Ryan appeared, but he wasn’t in the bedroom.
He was still in the bathroom, the mirror behind him clouded with steam, his hair damp and dark, clinging to his forehead.
He had a white towel hitched low around his waist, his chest and shoulders still glistening with water droplets.
“You’re home,” I breathed, my voice dropping an octave. “How was your meeting?” Ryan was meeting some of the guys from The Forward Watch.
Ryan smirked, a slow, lazy expression that I’d only ever seen directed at me. “You really wanna talk about that right now?” He shifted the phone so the angle captured more of him, his towel dipping dangerously low as he moved. “Your shower is great, but your bed’s empty.”
I groaned, rolling onto my side and burying my face into the pillow. “You are an absolute menace. You know I’m three states away, right? Why are you punishing me?” I groan.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryan teased, leaning against the bathroom doorframe, his gaze heavy and languid. He traced a finger down the line of water still tracking across his peck. “I’m just getting ready for bed. Does this not look like a good enough view for you?”
“It’s a spectacular view,” I admitted, my pulse spiking. “It’s a view that’s currently making it impossible for me to get a single second of sleep, I’m so fucking hard.”
Ryan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that traveled through the speaker and settled right in my stomach.
He walked out of the bathroom, the phone camera trailing him, and I caught a glimpse of the bedroom—my bedroom—bathed in the soft blue moonlight.
He sat down on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking familiarly.
“I’m lying on your side of the bed,” he whispered, his tone suddenly shifting from playful to something deeper, something raw. “It smells like you here, Jackson. It’s helping. But it’s not the same.”
“I’m counting the days, Soldier,” I said, my heart aching. “Seriously. Four more days, two games, and I’m catching the first flight back to the coast.”
“Four days,” Ryan repeated, his eyes dark and hungry. He reached up, his hand hovering over the camera lens, almost as if he were trying to reach through the glass. “You’d better be ready when you walk through that door. I’ve had a lot of time to practice being very, very unsoldier-like.”
“Oh, I’m ready,” I said, a grin spreading across my face. “I’m already planning the rest of the night when I get back. And trust me, it’s going to involve a lot less talking than we’re doing right now.”
Ryan laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I lay back on my bed, Ryan seeing the very visible wet patch on my boxers.
“Take them off,” he demanded. “Yes, sir,” as I stripped them, leaving me completely naked.
Reaching over to my suitcase, I grab my lube.
The crack of the lid opening turned Ryan’s eyes dark.
“Fuck” he groaned through the phone. My hand covered in lube slides perfectly down my cock, moaning as the friction is just so fucking good.
“You so fucking perfect,” Ryan groaned as his hand stroked over his own cock.
“Close your eyes, Jackson, show me what you did when you got my letters… and don’t give me that bullshit that you didn’t touch yourself.
Fuck, even the smell of you on those pages got me going!
” I watch as Ryan swipes his tip with his thumb, putting it straight into his mouth, sucking the pre-cum.
“It’s like I can taste you, Jackson.” Fuck…
I moan, “I’m so close.” I don’t want this moment to end.
Ryan’s strokes are just as frantic as mine.
“I want you sliding against me, fuck I want your pre-cum all over my cock.” Such a perfect view, Ryan’s bicep flexing with each stroke, “tell me I can cum” I moan.
I need him to say it. “Cum, Jackson, fucking cum with me.” white hot cum shot onto my abs, “Fuck” I moan, looking at the phone screen, Ryan’s head dropped back, exposing that fucking suck-able neck, I could see the moment he let go completely, that glorious sound as his whole body shakes.
“Wow,” Ryan said as he shook his head like he was in a daze.
“Yeah, it was never like that, I mean, it was great, but hearing that sexy as fuck voice, yeah, wow.”
He lay back against the pillows, the phone propped up on his chest so I could see him looking up at the ceiling, his body relaxed and open.
“Well, soldier’s orders, Jackson. Get some sleep.
You’ve got a game tomorrow, and I need you to rest. I want you in peak condition when you finally get home to me. ”
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, watching him drift off. Even through the screen, the sight of him—finally in my home, finally safe, finally mine—was the best thing I’d ever seen. “Goodnight, Ryan.”