Chapter 16 #2
“Already?” Craws made a big show of checking his phone. “Goddamn. You old guys can’t stay out past—”
I cuffed the back of his head. “Do you want to bag skate tomorrow? Because that could be arranged.”
“Empty threat,” he said, elbowing me.
“Oh yeah?” I cocked a brow. “How sure are you that it’s an empty threat?”
He smirked, but some fear flickered cross his face.
I slapped his shoulder hard. “That’s what I thought.” As I rose, I said to the other guys, “I’m going to go close out my tab. See you at breakfast.”
There were murmurs of “G’night, Saints” and “see you tomorrow,” and I headed up to the bar to pay for my share of the bill.
I’d just handed the bartender my credit card when someone appeared beside me. I turned, expecting to see one of my teammates.
Instead… whoa. Hello. The man was taller than me by a few inches, and he looked Mediterranean—black, wavy hair, olive skin, gorgeous brown eyes.
If I had to guess, he was in his mid twenties.
Maybe thirty. The shy little grin on his full lips made my brain stutter, and that was before I realized he was looking right at me.
“Uh, hi.” He extended his hand. “You’re uh…” He gulped. “You’re Liam St. Clair, aren’t you?”
I put on my best media smile and accepted the handshake. “I am. You a fan?”
He nodded. “Big fan. I, um…” He hesitated, some extra color rushing into his cheeks. Then he seemed to steel himself and find some reserve of boldness. “Could I buy you a drink?”
From the heat in his eyes, he wasn’t just a fan looking for a friendly drink.
I knew that look well. And I knew exactly where a drink like that in a place like this could lead, and damn if it wasn’t tempting.
Maybe a couple of flirtatious drinks followed by a roll in the hay would shake all these depressing and frustrating thoughts out of my stupid brain.
But just thinking about going through all of those motions made me even more tired than I already was.
I kept my smile in place even as I shook my head. “I’d love to. I really would. But I have a meeting with the coaching staff tonight, so…”
“Oh.” The disappointment on his face added guilt to my stack of emotions. “Are you in town for long?”
“We’re flying out after tomorrow night’s game. I’m really sorry.”
“That’s all right.” His own smile seemed about as fake as mine felt. “Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
He left, and the bartender returned with my credit card.
After I’d signed the receipt, I glanced around the bar one more time.
My teammates were still carrying on at their table, and had in fact drawn a small crowd of young women who were definitely flirting with them.
The man who’d offered to buy me a drink—I couldn’t see him now, but he was probably here somewhere.
I had a momentary impulse to look for him and rescind my rejection, but… no. I wasn’t in the mood for it tonight. I was horny as hell and wanted to get laid, but not here. Not like this.
Not with him.
All the way back to the hotel, I argued with myself about it, and I paused twice as I weighed going back.
Ultimately, though, I made it back to my room. I was too restless to lounge around, so I stripped everything off and got in the shower, hoping that would clear my damn head. It would give me something to do for a few minutes, anyway.
God, I wished I wasn’t here alone. That guy in the bar—he and I could’ve been in bed by now. I could’ve been sucking his dick right the hell now. He could’ve been sucking mine. Especially since I was quickly getting hard as I stood under the hot water.
Oh, yeah, he could’ve been blowing me right here in this shower, but I didn’t want his mouth on me.
I wanted Garrett’s. I wanted him kneeling at my feet, lips stretched tight around my cock as he licked and teased me right to the edge.
Fuck, just thinking about that had my spine tingling.
I braced an arm against the cold tile wall and started stroking myself, and my mind was immediately full of Garrett.
Of that kiss in my kitchen devolving into one of us—either of us—going to the floor and sucking the other off.
I didn’t even know what turned me on more—the thought of sliding between his gorgeous lips, or taking him in my mouth while he moaned and swore and growled my name.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered over the shower noise, pumping myself furiously as I simultaneously tried to draw this out and get to my orgasm as fast as possible.
I needed the release so bad it was almost painful, but I also wanted to enjoy these fantasies.
These impossible fantasies of that talented mouth working my dick like his life depended on it.
Of bending him over something—anything—and pounding into him until we both absolutely lost it.
Of Garrett crying out with his release as—
“Fuuuck!” I ground out, and I almost lost my footing as my hips jerked with the force of my orgasm. My thoughts were gone for a few blissful seconds, and nothing existed except ecstasy and relief.
Then I slumped against the wall, the shower still beating on my back as I trembled and tried to catch my breath.
That was when another fantasy crept in. One that involved us collapsing into bed together after the orgasms. The warmth of his body against mine. The softness of his fingertips on my skin. The long conversations about anything, everything, and nothing.
I closed my eyes and swallowed a sudden surge of emotion.
I wanted that so bad. All of it. The sex, the orgasms, the closeness afterward.
And fuck me, but I wanted it all with Garrett.