24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Paul
The weeks go by too fast now that football is over for the season, which means Dre and I have been spending a lot more time together, mostly holiday stuff with the kids.
Especially Rylee. Which I sort of love. Don’t get me wrong, I loved doing the same things with Maddox, but he’s getting older.
He doesn’t care much about leaving carrots out for Santa’s reindeer because he knows Santa isn’t real, which sucks because I thought we had more time until that happened, but kids at school can be assholes sometimes.
He doesn’t look forward to a cup of magical hot cocoa aboard the Polar Express like he used to, either, these days. But Rylee?
She loves all of it because it’s still new.
Christmas came like a bat out of hell, and I swear, the house still looks like a literal bomb went off, despite the fact Dre and I spent nearly four hours last night cleaning up everything after Rylee finally crashed with Kit T.
Kat, the chocolate kitten stuffie that smells like chocolate, which is weird, but Maddox said she’d love it, so I took the chance.
He was right. Smart kid.
I sigh as I pick up stray iridescent ribbon, along with random bows and tufts of crumpled-up tissue paper, tossing them into the trash as I wait for Dre to finish packing upstairs for our trip to the Valley, the fancy ski lodge upstate.
I packed last night before bed so I could sleep in while he took Rylee over to his parents, who are spending the weekend in Maine with his aunt, which we both agreed would be good for her.
Maddox won’t be back until New Year’s since he and Amelia left yesterday to visit Sean’s parents.
I’m not much of a winter sports guy and last I checked, he wasn’t either.
But I think Dre and I both know this trip isn’t about sports.
Far from it.
We’ve never gone on a date. Not a real one, anyway. As a couple. Which… I feel like we are, even if we don’t say it. Not everything has to have a label, right? Dre and I are just… Dre and I.
Sure, we go out with the kids sometimes, but because of our schedules, getting a night alone together is rare these days. So when it does happen, that we get time to ourselves, we usually end up staying in. Which is great. I love hanging out with Dre, watching movies, fooling around, but…
I want to do more with him. More than I ever thought I would, given the circumstances.
I want us to get dressed up, and I want to buy him a fancy dinner. Spoil him for a change because he deserves as much as he gives, and then some.
I want to hold his hand when we’re in public, even though the thought makes me feel a little nervous. But in a good way.
Maybe I even want to get a little drunk on New Year's, and kiss him at midnight as the fireworks go off, like couples do on TV every year.
And I really want to fuck him. I want to know what it feels like to be inside him. If it’ll feel different from all the times I’ve fucked women, like kissing him feels different from all the other times I’ve kissed women.
But does he want that? What if he doesn’t?
Granted, I’d be fine if he didn’t want me to fuck him, though I can’t say I wouldn’t be a little disappointed.
Hell, I’d be fine if he wanted to fuck me.
Sure, I might be a little nervous, because I’ve never had anything in my ass, but I trust Dre.
I know he’d make it feel good, the same way he makes everything else feel good…
I shove the thought away, if only because I can feel my cock getting hard from the thought, and we need to head out soon.
I adjust my cock as he rounds the bend with his suitcase, and I take in the sight of him in his dark green sweater, tailored khakis, and leather shoes.
Underneath the light of the kitchen, he almost looks like an angel with the way it makes his golden hair stand out.
“You ready?” he asks, his gaze falling on me.
I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. Ready when you are.”
The Valley looks exactly how I’d imagined a luxury winter resort would look.
The lobby is adorned with rustic decor, boasting high-vaulted ceilings with chandeliers bigger than Rylee’s prize pumpkin that look like they are made out of antlers.
There’s a huge fireplace in the center of the lobby, with a few people scattered about drinking coffee or wine, and the slow, jazzy music playing makes me feel somewhat tired.
I watch as Andre checks us in, and of course, a few of the men hanging around the sports bar across from us recognize him and want to talk.
Sometimes I forget that the Dre I know is not the same Dre everyone else knows.
Just like Alex is just…well, Alex, to us.
Not the big-shot hockey player he is to everyone else.
Though there’s a part of me that worries, I can’t help but feel proud as I watch him in his element; cool and confident as always, as he smiles and they leave, as he makes his way over to me.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” I gripe, but I let out a low chuckle to let him know I’m joking around.
Well, mostly anyway.
“Sorry about that,” he says, reaching for my suitcase. I go to smack his hand, but he sprints away before I can, and I have to jog to catch up to him. When we finally reach our room, I can’t help but gasp.
“Holy shit,” I mutter as Andre holds the door open for me. “This is—”
I glance around the spacious room, taking in the sight of it all.
The plush couches, the outdoor hot tub enclosed on its own deck, surrounded by glass windows.
The large electric fireplace is running, the room nice and warm.
There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket and two glasses on the kitchen island, next to a tray of fruit, crackers, and cheese.
“You hate it,” Dre says nervously as I turn around to look at him standing in the living room with our suitcases, a look of worry etched on his face.
“No,” I say, taking a few steps forward until I’m in front of him. “No, it’s perfect.” I reach out to grasp his jaw. His bright eyes find mine, full of something I can’t quite place. “Just like you,” I whisper as I close the distance between us.
I mean for it to be quick; a soft peck, because we should unpack before we get ready for this dinner—the one I planned.
Tomorrow, he will meet with the Director of Athletics from New Haven University—the reason for this trip in the first place—to discuss something about their athletics program.
He doesn’t seem all that concerned, says it’s just a consult, but I can’t help but worry.
Can’t help but feel like it’s more than that, but if it was, I’m pretty sure Dre would tell me.
Right?
So I push the worry aside as I kiss him, and then I feel his hands on my face, holding me still. He slips his tongue into my mouth, groaning deeply, and the sound goes straight to my dick.
I meet his tongue with equal ferocity, and soon enough, our kiss is anything but quick or soft.
Dre’s hands make quick work of unbuttoning my pants, and my hands move of their own accord as I tug at the hem of his sweater.
He stops his onslaught long enough to let me remove his shirt, and within seconds he’s shoving my pants and my briefs down as I do the same.
It’s hard to believe at one point this felt weird; him touching me like this, my cock responding to his touch, the warm feeling of his hard body against mine.
Because I swear this feels so natural, I don’t know how I ever questioned it or thought I could live without it.
You can’t fake attraction like this. Your body either responds to something or it doesn’t.
End of story. I like sex. I definitely liked having sex with women.
I’ve never even thought about sex with a guy.
But I can’t deny the thought of fucking Dre makes me hard as hell, and it’s just as simple as that.
The sound of belt buckles jingle like reindeer bells, our pants falling to the floor with resounding truth. I swear every time we do this, it’s hotter than the last time. Like he’s just as desperate for my touch, my mouth, my body as I am for his. But it’s more than that, too, I think.
Or maybe that’s just my heart getting away from me.
A moment turns into a blur of hands and lips, and stumbling as we fight for dominance against one another like a fight to the death.
I shove him back against the counter and take his cock in my hand, the familiar feel of velveteen-wrapped steel making my own cock jerk with anticipation as a bloom of precum forms when I run my thumb over his slit, feeling the kiss of his arousal against my fingertips.
Dre’s hands rest on my chest, but he doesn’t push me away. For a moment, we stand there, naked in the kitchen of this amazing suite, our cocks brushing against one another, and he looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.
The words fall out of my mouth without warning.
“You want me to suck your dick?”
Dre nods, his face flush with heat, his lips swollen from our heated kiss; pupils dilated with interest and something that makes my chest tighten.
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly.
I don’t hesitate, because if I do, I’ll never do it, and I’ve been planning to do this since Dre told me about this trip. There hasn’t been a chance for me to return the favor since he did it to me.
I drop to my knees, holding his gaze as I reach out for his cock once more.
Dre looks down at me, his lips parted as he gently slips his fingers through my hair in the softest gesture.
He doesn’t force me; instead, he gently guides my head forward, and I grasp his cock a little tighter, stroking him a bit before I let out a slow breath and then I do it.
I rip the Band-Aid off and take his cock into my mouth in one swift motion, and the groan that leaves his mouth makes my cock throb.
“Oh, fuck,” he curses.
I’m not sure what I thought this was going to be like, but I expected it to be… unpleasant.
Suffocating, even.
But… it’s not.
So I move a little further down, taking more of his cock, and he groans some more, and I feel his body tremble. I stop for a moment, looking up at him.
“You okay?” I ask, noting the heavy rise and fall of his chest.
“I’m going to come,” he says, his voice thick with desire, but also… nerves. “If you keep that up.”
The stupidest grin splits my face and pride swells in my chest.
“Really?” I smirk.
He nods vehemently. “Oh, yeah.” He swallows. “I’m close.”
He lets out a low breath.
“If you don’t want me to—”
“I do,” I say solidly, holding his gaze. “I want you to come,” I say, the truth sharp and clear as I slowly stroke his cock, careful not to go too fast, in case he does come before I’m ready.
I flick my tongue out to lick his cockhead, tasting the saltiness of his excitement on my tongue. It’s not as gross as I thought it would be. I don’t hate it.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and I note the grimace on his face. He’s holding back.
“Don’t hold back, Dre,” I say, my voice darker than it should be.
“Come for me.”
I take his cock back into my mouth, letting out a low moan as he starts to thrust slowly until he hits the back of my throat, and I swear I see stars. I choke a little from him blocking my airway, but I don’t gag.
Which makes me feel proud, I’m not going to lie.
So I try to take another inch, just to see if I can, and that’s when I feel it.
“Oh my God, Paul,” he cries, his cock pulsing in my mouth, and I realize as salty, hot cum shoots down my throat what’s happening.
But before I can freak out about the fact his cum is in my mouth, I close my eyes and swallow, focusing on my racing heart and his grip in my hair.
I cup and squeeze his balls as he runs his fingers through my hair, lazily thrusting into my mouth as he breathes a sigh of relief.
I swallow once more, my heart racing as I pull off him, looking up at him, at his bright blue eyes, kiss-swollen lips, trying to focus on anything but the fact I just swallowed his cum.
I love you.
The words form on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to remember how to speak. He pulls me up, and I lick my lips, tasting the faintest drop on my bottom lip, of him.
Dre’s mouth finds mine like a magnet, and his hand finds my cock once more. He kisses me slow, deep as he grasps our cocks together, working us both as we get lost in one another; in this kiss, the pleasure.
The love I feel is overwhelming and terrifying. But I don’t want it to disappear.
Ever.
It doesn’t take me long to come, because I’m already pretty close.
Three pumps, and I’m groaning into his mouth as I come undone like unraveling thread all over his cock, his hand.
I let out a deep groan as a shiver runs down my spine, and I swear it feels like I come forever, more than I have in a while, that’s for damn sure.
For a moment, we stand there, sweaty, naked in the kitchen, our dicks coated with the remnants of our pleasure, and I think nothing can be better than this.
Dre lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head, and I watch the grin spread on his face.
“What?”
“Now we need showers,” his tone is tinged with humor and torment.
“You’re right, we should shower. Unpack. Get ready for our d—”
I almost say dinner, when I realize it’s not the right word. Well, it is, but…
“Date.” I say the word as if it’s made of glass. Maybe it is.
There’s a sort of unfamiliar tension between us as he nods.
“I’ll go first,” I say, clearing my throat. “You unpack.”
He nods, watching me as I head towards the bathroom. I feel his eyes on me like a laser beam.
It’s a miracle we actually make it out of our suite on time.