Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luka
Dean’s smile when he opened the door?
That was exactly what I needed to see.
I went inside, and he closed it behind me. A heartbeat later, my arms were around his neck.
“Hello, Dean Foster, Olympic champion ice skater.” I couldn’t help but return his smile.
He beamed. “Well, hello there, Luka Davorin, Olympic champion ice skater.”
I curved my hand around his cheek. “You were amazing. I had to remind myself to breathe. That quad…”
He stilled. “Are we really going to talk skating? Because I can, you know. I can give you a blow-by-blow analysis of every element.” His lips twitched.
“Blow-by-blow?” I narrowed my gaze. “That was not subtle.”
Dean grinned. “Yeah, but I knew you’d pick up on it.” He looked me in the eye. “And you talk all you want. We don’t have to do anything.”
I knew he meant it. I loved that he meant it.
My hand was still on his cheek. “Thank you. But all the way from my room to yours, all I could think about was lying on your bed, kissing you… touching you.”
His smile lit up the room. “Sounds perfect.”
He took me by the hand and led me to the bed. We stopped at the foot of it, and he leaned in and sniffed.
I knew he could smell the soap and shampoo from the shower. My face grew hot, remembering how long I’d spent in there once Mila had finally gone. How much attention I’d paid to certain… areas.
Then I forgot everything when his mouth met mine.
His hands were in my hair, gentle and restless, and I slipped my arms around him, pulling him to me, molding myself to his firm body. My heartbeat raced, my pulse danced, and I sighed into his kiss. When we finally broke, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“I’ve been thinking about this ever since I walked off the ice,” he murmured.
“Taking my virginity?” I knew my attempt at humor was only a mask.
I also knew Dean would see right through it.
He nuzzled my neck, his chuckle reverberating through me. “It’s kind of mine too, remember. But we balance each other out.” He kissed my forehead. “You’re the expert here.”
“Me?” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “What makes me an expert?”
He locked gazes with me. “Excuse me, Mr. Would you lick my hole? I’m not the one who’s been watching gay porn.”
I blinked. “Isn’t it good that one of us has?” I glanced at the bed. “So… do we get undressed?”
His hand was on my nape, firm and grounding. “We can. We can also lie here for a while and kiss, like you said. Either way, it’s just you and me, for as long as we want.”
My pulse was still ragged. “Tell me what you would do.”
He leaned in, his lips pressed to my temple. “I’d keep my clothes on for a while longer.”
I took a moment to breathe. “Then we do that.”
His face lit up. “Sounds good. And we take it slow.”
He lay down, taking me with him. We both kicked off our shoes, and suddenly we were a tangle of limbs, sharing kiss after slow kiss, hands exploring bare skin under sweaters.
I stilled. “I did not bring lube.”
“Relax. I have plenty.” Dean chuckled. “I had to go buy more, because I’ve been jerking off three or four times a day recently.” His lips brushed over my ear, and I shivered. “Can’t think why. And I think your weirdness is catching. I swear I heard a condom calling me just before you arrived.”
I had to smile. “What did it say?”
“‘Pick me! Pick me!’”
I laughed.
“But if I can be serious for a second?”
My heart thudded. “Yes?”
“There’s something neither of us has brought up yet.”
And just like that, I knew where he was going—or rather, where I wanted him to go.
“Whenever I thought about this moment, it was always the same,” I admitted. “I was never steering the car.”
The metaphor sounded ridiculous the second it left my mouth.
To my surprise, Dean went completely still. “My ex said something similar.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Different vehicle.” His mouth twitched. “She used a ship.”
I laughed. “That is objectively worse.”
“Right?” He brushed his thumb across my jaw. “At least a car has brakes.”
I smiled, but it faded quickly. The joke wasn’t really the point.
Dean seemed to realize that too. His gaze softened.
“You mean you never imagined being the one in charge.”
I looked away. “Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
I took a breath. How did I explain something I had never said out loud before?
“I think…” I stopped and tried again. “I think I always imagined being with someone I trusted enough not to need to be.”
Dean didn’t interrupt.
“Most of my life has been people telling me where to stand. What to say. What not to say. How to skate. How to behave.” His fingers tightened against mine.
“I know.”
“When I imagined this...” I swallowed. “I never wanted more responsibility.”
Dean drew in a long breath. “You wanted to let go for a while.”
The accuracy of it made my chest ache. “Yes.”
He studied me for a moment. Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“Okay.”
I frowned. “Okay?”
His smile was gentle. “That’s not a problem, Luka.”
Somewhere deep down, I think I’d expected it to be.
Dean rolled me onto my back and covered me with his body. I loved the sensation of being pinned beneath him, his lips on my face, my neck. He rocked against me, and I moaned to feel his hard length sliding over my equally solid shaft.
I had to touch it.
I snaked a hand between us, reaching lower until my fingertips encountered his crotch.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Feel what you do to me?” He gave a slow roll of his hips, and another moan escaped me. “You still want this?”
I cupped his bulge and gave it a gentle squeeze, my heart thumping.
He let out a shudder. “Okay, I think I just created a new world record for hardness.” Then he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He nuzzled me again, and multiple shivers trickled through me. “I think I’m ready to ditch the clothes.”
My breathing was ragged, my pulse rapid. “Me too.”
He knelt up on the bed, stripping off his sweater in one fluid motion before tossing it aside. I couldn’t resist. I leaned in to kiss his firm little nipples, loving the hitch in his breathing, the way he cradled my head, keeping me there.
Then it was my turn, and Dean was in control.
First my sweater, then my pants and socks, until all that remained were my briefs.
My heart pounded as he brushed his hand over my thickening cock, making no move to slide his fingers under the cotton.
His lips found mine, and I whimpered into the kiss, pushing up with my hips.
“I said we’re taking it slow, remember?”
I rolled my eyes. “Slow is fine. This is torture.”
“Ooh, then I must be doing it right.” Dean pushed my underwear down my thighs, then came to a dead stop, his gaze locked on my cock that rose into the air.
I lifted my head from the pillow. “Is there something wrong with it?”
Dean looked up so fast I almost laughed. “What? No!”
“Then why are you staring at it as though you’re trying to solve a mathematical equation? Because while I might be a virgin, even I know yours is going to fit.”
I was trying not to think about that part.
He bit his lip. “I’m trying to understand something.” His eyes flicked downward again. “I’ve seen dicks before, okay? Locker rooms. Showers. The usual athlete experience.” He shrugged. “To be honest, I always kind of thought they looked a little… weird.”
I blinked.
“Like, I totally understood why people say ‘bumping uglies.’”
I laughed despite myself.
“But now I look at yours,” he said, his voice a little rougher, “and I have to admit… it’s pretty.”
“Pretty?” I repeated.
“Gorgeous, actually.”
“Oh, I think your first instinct was correct,” I informed him. “Dicks are not supposed to be pretty. They are… functional.”
Dean gave a thoughtful hum. “I disagree.” Before I could respond, he traced one finger along the length of my shaft, from root to slit.
The touch sent a shiver through me.
“It’s soft,” he murmured. “Warm. Kind of silky.” He smirked. “And it has a life of its own.”
“It does not.”
At that moment, my dick twitched beneath his hand. Twice.
Dean appeared delighted. “You were saying?”
I glared at him while he tried—and failed—not to laugh. “This is humiliating.”
“No, this is fascinating.”
“You are about three seconds away from naming it.”
Dean’s eyes lit up. “That is a great idea.”
I stared at him in horror. “Dean.”
“That way I can talk about him in public.” God help him, he seemed fully committed to the insanity now. “People will think I’m discussing a real person.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. And now I need to think of the perfect name.” His grin widened. “Meanwhile, you’ll be standing there knowing I’m actually thinking about all the things I want to do to you once we’re alone.”
I gaped at him. “How did I not see this before?”
“See what?”
“You,” I said. “You are evil.”
Dean laughed. “I’m not evil.” His eyes gleamed. “But I am about to be extremely wicked.”
That got my heart beating even harder.
He removed my briefs completely, then lay down beside me, his fingers lazily skimming down my stomach.
I took a moment to burn this into my memory.
The room still smelled of soap from his shower earlier, mixed now with cold Milan air drifting through the cracked-open window. Somewhere out there, traffic hummed through the city, but up here the Olympic Village felt removed from reality.
There was only him.
He glanced toward the nightstand with a determined expression.
“Okay. I’ve prepared for this moment.” He reached for the condoms and lubricant—then dropped them onto the floor.
There was one comic moment when we both leaned over the bed and stared at them.
Dean sighed. “And I’m already failing.”
Laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.
“Oh good.” He rolled his eyes. “Humiliation. Very sexy.”
“You looked confident,” I admitted.
“I was acting.”
I blinked. “That is… reassuring?”
He grabbed another condom and pointed accusingly at me. “Do not mock me. I’ve done my homework for this.”
“I know.” I smiled. “I looked up WebMD.”
He flushed. “You didn’t.”
“You said not to mention it. You did not say anything about not looking.”
He gave me a mock glare. “I can’t believe you brought this up during foreplay.”