Chapter Thirty-One #2
“Uh, he’s good, last I talked to him,” I reply. “The recovery went well and his mom’s feeling better.”
I’m trying to sound nonchalant, but Sorensen stares at me.
“I watched your scrum at the airport,” he whispers. “Interesting way you answered that question about Finn.”
“I told the truth.”
“And you will, if you have something to tell.”
“Exactly.”
Sorensen offers me a knowing grin.
“Looking forward to Finn’s return. I think the rest of the season’s looking up.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Finn - Second week of January
It’s late afternoon when I touch down in New York, beanie and sunglasses in place.
Thankfully, there are no reporters at the airport to greet me.
No Sel either, but he’s at practice. It’s all good.
I need time to get things ready for tonight.
My first stop, the luggage carousel, where I wait thirty minutes for my bag.
This would’ve gone a lot faster if I hadn’t had to check it due to the weight, but hey, it’s always fun to haul two dozen prime Omaha steaks on an airplane.
The delay doesn’t bother me, though. I’m so keen to see Sel that everything else, the noise, the crowd, fades away.
My shoulder barely twinges, but to be safe I haul my bag over my other arm, and weave my way toward the exit.
At least my pre-booked rideshare is on time, and before I know it, we’re hitting the road. I’m restless with nervous anticipation and spend the entire ride talking the driver’s ear off. Poor guy. I’m so hyped that the only thing keeping me from ejecting through the SUV’s sunroof is my seatbelt…
We pull up to the condo an hour and a half later, and in my haste, I nearly forget to grab my bag. Jesus, I need to cool it before I have an accident or something.
Telling myself that doesn’t work.
Thanking the driver, I jog inside, give a wave to the concierge, and head for the elevator. But I slip on the tile floor, because of course, melting snow, and finally I realize I really do need to slow down. Getting another injury is not on my wish list.
I take deep, calming breaths in the elevator, but when I reach the fifteenth floor, my nerves spring back.
My home is still the mess I left it in, but I’ll deal with it next week.
Being with Sel is my only priority, so I unpack, shove all but four of the steaks in the freezer, and hit the bathroom.
Once I’m cleaned up, I grab a couple of items I need and shove them in my backpack.
Then I pocket Sel’s fob and make my way to the tenth floor.
Stepping inside his place is more like it.
I glance at my phone. My boyfriend will be home in an hour. Sixty minutes, and I’m counting down every second.
“First, season the steaks and let them rest on the counter. Second, lube up and rest on the bed. Okay, technically I won’t be resting.
Anything but. Rest is not what’s happening tonight.
All night. Oh, fuck.” My cock grows stiff and strains against my jeans.
“I’m so excited I’m rambling to an empty room. ”
Ignoring my wayward mouth—and my impatient dick—I stalk into the kitchen, grab a chilled beer, and take a fortifying gulp, several, and place the cold bottle against my heated face. Once I’m relatively in control again, I search the pantry for potatoes and veg, and get dinner prepped.
Then it’s my turn.
I grab my backpack and make a beeline for Sel’s bedroom. While I was on leave with a wounded wing, I did a lot of research on anal sex. I might have also called Silas to ask my friend more detailed questions. Too detailed. At this point I don’t know if he’ll ever talk to me again…
I hit the bathroom first and once I’m cleaned up, I scurry into the bedroom to grab the monster dildo I ordered before Christmas.
Now that I’ve started playing with my ass, I’m kind of obsessed.
But one lubed finger isn’t the same as Sel’s cock.
Still, I’m ready for him, or I will be, once I get this big rubber dick in my ass…
I pull out the dildo and stare at it for a moment before throwing it and the lube on the bed.
Since I don’t want to mess up Sel’s duvet, I spread a bath towel and climb onto it, getting myself in position.
The one Silas recommended for a dildo virgin like me.
At least my friend found that amusing. I’m not laughing at all because the size of that fake cock has me questioning if this is physically possible.
A half hour and half a tube of lube later, I finally get Wolfie #2 in my ass.
I’m no longer rambling; I’m completely incoherent.
There’s a burn that doesn’t fade and an overwhelming pleasure that’s more intense than anything I’ve experienced.
How’s it gonna feel when Sel’s inside me?
Slowly, I start to ride the dildo, and when I tap my prostate, literal fireworks explode in my body.
Holy fucking shit. I reach for a pillow to muffle the ecstatic roar that rumbles out of my chest as my dick goes from a flagging semi to a throbbing hard-on.
Without pause, I reach for my cock, stroking off in a frenzied rush like I’m never gonna get the chance to do this again.
It’s difficult for me to find a smooth rhythm because I’m overloaded, all my synapses firing at once.
The pleasure’s too good, too much, and I need more.
No. Stop.
I don’t want to come, not until Sel’s here.
Trembling with frustration, I let go of my dick and carefully slide up and off the dildo. I grunt when the empty feeling takes hold. And so much for my hockey training; my glutes and quads are on fire. I manage to maneuver off the bed and head for a cold shower. My dick flags, but not completely.
Feeling calmer—or as calm as I can get—I wash up, throw on jeans, and head for the kitchen.
Sel’s going to be starving by the time he gets home, and I need a distraction, so cooking it is.
My rumbling stomach agrees with this plan, but first, my beer.
I’m not going to get shitfaced, but after dick-riding practice, I sure as hell need something to cool myself down.
I reach for the bottle and drink the rest of my beer.
Feeling myself settle—yeah, right—I cook the sides and place them in the warming oven, then sear the steaks in a cast iron pan, basting the meat with oil and butter.
Once I’m satisfied the steaks are medium rare, I slide them onto a hot plate and let them rest. I’m about to open another bottle when my phone buzzes.
I reach across the island and tap the screen.
Sel: On my way up
He’s here!
I run around the unit like a dog with the zoomies, making sure everything’s perfect.
The main lights go off and the Christmas lights go on.
So what if it’s January? The place looks great.
I get the Christmas music going, the dinner’s ready, everything’s set.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I head for the door.
Every step closer has my pulse beating harder, faster.
I hear the click of the lock before I can reach the handle, and Sel steps inside.
“Welcome home,” I say at the same time he does.
He pulls off his cashmere beanie, his heavy coat, and drops them on the floor, reaching for me. I launch myself at him, and when we collide, it knocks the breath out of me.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I whisper. “We talk every day but—”
Sel buries his face in my neck, one hand splayed on my lower back, the other cupping my head, holding me tight. I band my arms around his waist and squeeze tighter. The longer we hug, the more my heart expands.
“I know,” he replies in a muffled voice. “Give me a minute.”
When he finally lifts his head, our eyes meet, and it’s almost too much. He’s not the only one who needs a time out.
Nah, fuck that.
“Finn,” he moans as he cups my face. “I’m crazy in love with you.”
“I’m crazy in love with you too, baby.”
We seal the words with a devouring kiss.
I manhandle him until his back hits the wall and reach for his sweater, needing it off, needing to touch his bare skin.
Sel slides one hand down my chest and tucks his fingers under the waistband of my jeans, pulling me closer until we’re naked chest to naked chest, grinding together and kissing like we’ll never get the chance again.
“You answered the door without a shirt,” Sel whispers. “Again.”
“Only for you.”
He tastes my smile, and I forget everything but him.
Until the timer in the kitchen goes off. It’s like jumping into a tub of cold water.
“Damn.”
“Do I smell steak?” he rasps.
“Yeah, I cooked dinner,” I manage to reply. “But we can eat later, if you want.”
Sel gives me another resounding kiss.
“I want a romantic meal with my boyfriend first. And I need fuel if we’re going to fuck.”
“You’re so old, but so wise.”
Sel pinches my ass in retaliation.
“We’ll see who has more energy after dinner, rookie.”
“I’ll be so edged by then it’ll be no contest.”
Stepping away from temptation, I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm. Once I’m sure I’m not going to come in my pants, I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen, offering him a beer.
“Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”
We catch up as we devour the steaks and wash them down with another beer. After, we sit on the couch and snuggle under a woven blanket, his chest to my back. Between the company, the music, and the meal, I’m content in this spot, and I never want to move. Ever.
“I wish every day could end this way,” I confess. “With you beside me.”
“It could,” he replies as he nuzzles my neck. “Move in.”