11. Fox
I popoff the most delicious dick I’ve ever had in my mouth and stare up at Grey, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
“Did you just?—”
“I… I did,” he says, just as bewildered as me.
“Guess you like it after all,” I say with a smug grin as I swallow his cock again.
“Fuck, Jonathan.” He spears his fingers through my hair, but this time, it’s not as feral, not as passionate. Now it’s soft and caring… almost loving. “How do you do this to me?”
“Do what?” I ask as I stroke him and lap at the base.
“You tear me out the frame without even trying.”
Smiling at the compliment, I kiss the inside of his thigh. “I don’t know. I just know I love making you feel good, and I do what I think does that.”
He hooks a finger underneath my chin, pulling my gaze up to his. “You’re really good at making me feel good, Jonathan.”
My face heats, and I try to look away, but he doesn’t let me. “Thank you,” I mutter.
He sits up and pulls me to meet him, pressing his lips to mine and pulling me into his body until I straddle his thighs. He drugs me with kisses, sipping ones, probing ones, sweet ones, hot ones… I can’t keep up with him, and it’s fucking glorious.
I pull away and reach between us, wrapping my hand around his shaft and reverently sliding my hand over the smooth skin. “How big is your shower?”
“Big enough,” he says with a wink before he rolls us, pinning me underneath him. “Why? You wanna fuck me in there?”
“I wanna fuck you everywhere, Grey,” I admit.
He smacks a kiss on my lips and stands up, offering me his hand. “Let’s check that off the list then.”
“Oh, you misunderstand.”
He cocks his head at me like a golden retriever that doesn’t understand his human.
I chuckle. “I wanna fuck you everywhere, but it’s not a scavenger hunt where we cross things off the list. I wanna fuck you everywhere… over and over again.”
His eyes darken, and his cock bobs against his leg in appreciation of my words. “Well let’s get started then.”
I put my dick in his ass in the shower.
He sucked my dick until I came down his throat with my bare ass on his kitchen counter.
I tied his wrists together and fingered his ass until he came from just prostate stimulation.
He begged me to let him eat my ass, and I finally gave in after a glass – or three – of Jack.
He didn’t have to beg me because I didn’t want it. He had to beg me because I knew what the conversation afterward would be. And that’s where we are now.
Sitting on his couch, the highlights of the night’s games replaying for the third time because it’s nearly four in the morning.
“It feels like something I might need to know but probably don’t want to know. Am I close?”
I nod. “Pretty damn warm.”
We sat down, each of us on either end of the couch, our feet pointing towards each other, but he rises to his knees and crawls towards me, settling between my thighs and hooking one of my legs over his hips to cage himself underneath me.
“You’re sure you wanna hear this?” I ask.
“You’re sure you wanna tell it?” he answers.
I nod. This started a couple months ago as a one-night hookup, but the more I’ve gotten to know Greyson Webber, the more I realize I want to get to know more, and to do that, I have to be honest with him. I have to tell him everything.
As much as it’s gonna suck.
“I came out in college, sophomore year,” I start. “I didn’t want to be somebody I wasn’t, and after a year of the guys asking me why I wasn’t ‘banging cleat-chasers’ on the regular, I finally went to my coach and told him.
“He was great about it. Never even flinched. But he told me I needed to tell the guys all together. I agreed, and he set up a team meeting. When I stood up and walked towards the front of the room, the chatter started. They thought I was leaving, transferring somewhere else.
“When I told them I’m gay, some of them wished that was the reason I stood in front of them. There are some real assholes out there, as I’m sure you’re well-aware, and I got a lot of ribbing from three or four guys on the team. The rest of them were fine. Didn’t have an opinion one way or another – the way it fucking should be.”
My voice takes on that faraway sound it always does when I tell this story – all four times I’ve ever told it – and I swallow the bile that threatens to make an appearance.
“You don’t have to do this, Jon,” Grey whispers against my bare chest, his fingers trailing through the hair between my pecs.
“Sit up,” I say abruptly.
He obeys immediately and moves to stand, I guess thinking I need space. I stop him and turn him to look at me.
“Is this just sex for you?” I ask bluntly.
He gapes, his mouth opening and shutting twice before he shakes his head. “No. Not anymore.”
I caress his gorgeous face and smile. “Then lay back down and shut up and let me get this out, okay?”
He snickers and nods. “Yes, sir.”
This might be the only time he’s ever said that and my dick didn’t respond.
He settles back into his cocoon of my body and says, “Proceed.”
“The three or four guys that loved to give me shit… turns out that old adage about protesting too much is true. One of them came to my dorm room and used the excuse that he wanted to apologize to me for his behavior. Call it naivete, call it hope – I let him in and heard him out. And he fucking roofied me. Unfortunately, he didn’t give me enough that I passed out completely. Just enough to be weak and unable to fight him off.”
“Baby,” Grey whispered, his arm tightening around me.
“He held me down and—” My voice catches, and Grey is up on his knees in front of me in a heartbeat.
“That’s enough. I understand. I hear you. Don’t torture yourself, please. Not on my account.”
“I just… that’s why I can’t…”
“Baby, I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you. And I’m so fucking sorry I made that comment earlier tonight. I feel like an absolute jackass.”
I grip the back of his neck and bring his eyes to mine. “Greyson Webber, don’t you dare apologize for the asshole that raped me in college.”
He flinches at the word. It’s a fucking ugly word. So I get the aversion. But I can’t help how it seems to reflect on me.
Stupid. I know. Then he speaks.
“I’m not apologizing for that asshole. I’m apologizing because I can feel sympathy for you without taking on any of the blame. I can be angry at the piece of shit and be sad for you. I’m sorry, Jonathan. I can’t believe that happened to you.”
Damn it, he knows exactly what to say every fucking time.
I lift my chin, and Grey’s head nuzzles deeper into my neck, his forehead pressed against my throat. “Thank you.”
I don’t know how long we lie there in silence, just wrapped up in each other’s arms, until I shift and say, “I have to be at the hotel in an hour.”
“I know,” he whispers.
I know I have to go back. I know it. Doesn’t mean either of us has to like it.
Sitting up, he disentangles himself from me and heads for the bathroom. “One last shower?” he asks over his shoulder.
I smile and nod. “Yeah. One thing, though,” I add as we step into the bathroom.
“What’s that?”
“This is definitely not the last shower we’ll share.”