Epilogue
EPILOGUE
RILEY
TWO YEARS LATER
Sunlight streams through the open curtains, the muscular frame of my boyfriend outlined by the deep maroon sheet barely covering the dimples above his ass. I’ve been lying here awake for too long, watching him burrow into his pillow and cover it in drool.
Brown hair sticks up in all directions, and it feels like a field of cotton beneath my fingertips. I trail them down the back of his neck, walk them across his shoulder blades, touch each notch of his spine on the descent.
The globes of his ass fit perfectly beneath my palm—one hand per cheek—and it only takes a couple gentle strokes for his hips to wiggle and for a satisfied sigh to leave his sleeping lips.
Parker is back home for spring break, one of his high school buddies spending the week with him. So for the next couple of days while I have Griff by my side, we have the house to ourselves.
I miss him fiercely during the season, but with the Rippers out of the running for the major league Cup, I can steal back some of our lost time.
He rolls onto his back, stretching an arm above his head before settling into a relaxed state of recline. With a new span of real estate open to me, I splay my hand across his abs, drag it up over his chest and cradle his neck until he turns his head.
A rumble starts in his chest, eyelids fighting the hold sleep has on them, but each stroke of my finger on his cheeks raises them higher. Finally, hazel eyes blink open and gaze into mine.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers, arching his neck and gripping my wrist to guide it down his body. Over every inch of sensitive flesh, pebbling under my touch, until we reach the tent in the sheet beneath his hips.
“Want my mouth on you, baby?”
Those eyes close again, hips arching up as I uncover his full, swollen cock. So hard the glistening, purple head pushes past the foreskin. I sink between his legs spread wide, fitting my arms under the backs of his thighs and bringing him closer.
With a deep inhale, I press my nose to his sac, licking along the underside and drawing a ball into my mouth. He whimpers, whines, tangles a hand in my hair to urge me up, and I let go with a lewd pop to drag my tongue up his straining, veiny shaft.
“Riley, please,” he whispers, desperation urgent in the tug his fingertips make on my hair. His cock bounces, searching for my mouth, and I briefly give it to him, wrapping my lips around the side of his shaft and making a wet mess of him. “Oh my god.”
That last loss was brutal for the Rippers, and with it being Griff’s first season off the bench and out of the backup position, he’s taken it hard.
Sounds like he needs me to take it hard with him.
Deep-throating has never been one of my better acts in bed, but when the situation calls for it, I can fit Griff’s cock in the back of my throat for a few snug seconds. Something that makes his hips jump off the bed and his hands shove down on my head hard enough for me to gag.
I breathe slowly and swallow around him, kneading his cheeks with punishing fingers to ground myself.
“Yes,” he gasps out, trying to buck into my grasp, but my hold is iron tight. Hazel eyes flash down to me, and his hands fall away to grip the sheets.
It’s only a few seconds before I have to take a breath, but now that I know he’s so easily on edge, I make sloppy work of his engorged dick—begging for release.
The salt of precum dripping down his shaft collects on my tongue, and my lips wrap around the tip to coax more out. One pump of his shaft and it blooms, gliding down my throat on command.
“Riley, baby, please. I’m going to?—”
I drag my fist up his shaft, pinching the foreskin with my fingers to slip my tongue inside. He quivers, grunts, and when I suck on him in time with the swirl of my tongue beneath his hood, Griff erupts like a geyser, flooding my mouth until his cum dribbles out the sides.
Making him come is still my favorite way to start the morning.
As he’s coming down from the high, I climb up his body and cradle his jaw in my palm. Slowly, his eyes open and focus on me, lips parting as my mouth descends, accepting with a broken moan the taste of his own release.
His hands find anchor in my hair, around my neck, clawing at my bare shoulders as I rock against him. Our tongues tangle in a mess of cum and saliva, my hands gripping his thighs to give me full roam of his solid body to rut my own aching erection on.
As much as I’d love to sink inside his body, time is dwindling down, and I opt to paint his perfectly tanned skin with jets of my completed arousal, going so far as to rub the cum over his willing, denied hole.
When he pulls me down this time, our kiss is languid, the wet slap of lips met with the deep rumbled moans neither of us can contain.
“Do you have to go to work?” He grumbles into my mouth.
“Yes.” I smile against his lips. “The last time I called in sick, Micky Donovan showed up at our house with cabbage soup and didn’t leave until I promised to be back for the next practice.”
“That boy is a menace.”
I chuckle and hold Griff’s face firmly in my hands, kissing him slowly until we’re both hard again.
“He just knows I’m the best coach he’s going to get,” I say as I roll off, ignoring Griff’s groan in protest.
Packing up and moving to Mountain Valley was a decision that we spent a long and hard time making. After camp, I found I really liked working with kids, building them up to pro levels. Not to mention Micky and Parker made quick friends of each other, and then I had two thirteen year olds whispering in my ear to take up the position of hockey coach at the high school.
With Griffin moving up to the Rippers at the same time, it just made sense to pick a home base. Somewhere he comes to in the off season and visits between games. We’re only a three hour drive from Nashville, so sometimes I can take off on the weekends to spend time with him.
Then, when we decided that Parker would come live with us for high school, it only made sense to look into a house instead of an apartment.
“This is my last chance to spend time with you before college,” Parker had said with a shrug, and I’d caved because you know what? I actually like spending time with my brother.
“I love you.” I lean over the bed to give Griff’s hard-on a tug, then wink when he growls at my retreat. “Maybe if you come be my assistant for the day, we can sneak in a quick fuck on my desk.”
The kids might be out, but I’ve still got a busy day of meetings with upper management, staff, and the other coaches.
Griff’s eyes spark with interest. “Sure thing, Coach.”
A thrill races down my spine, making my not nearly satisfied enough cock twitch.
“I’m going to get you, Foster.”
He smiles at me with such affection that another piece of my heart leaps from my chest and lands in his hands.
“I hope you never stop.”
THE END
Riley’s ex, Matty, gets his HEA next in a rivals-to-lovers, strip club dancers romance featuring a single dad, a hard-of-hearing trans man, and lots of UST.
Roleplay at Randy’s
Win the competition, split the prize, and pretend this X-Rated fairy tale never existed.