“Jealous?”
When I look over my shoulder at him, he’s smirking, like a fucking brat. Oh, I’m going to put that mouth of his to good use. But a shower is in order first because that citrus smell is turning my stomach.
“Thought I wasoff limits?”
“I’m way past giving a fuck right now, Chaos.”
Pushing Viktor into the bathroom, I flick on the light, then back him up against the vanity. My fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and I pull them down.
What I don’t expect is for the arrogant goalie to freeze up. Not sure why. Because, fuck, his cock is gorgeous—long, thick, and mouthwateringly hard.
“Uh, you know what. You’re right. Maybe we should think this through. Can’t risk having you get fired.” There’s a tremble to his voice, and he’s looking all over.
I stand, then take step back, unsure what the fuck just happened. But as I look back down, raking my hand through my hair, hard as fuck and equally confused, my eyes are drawn to the thin, jagged silver line marring the side of his buttock.
When I reach for his hip, he backs up as far as he can get. “Viktor—”
“Think I should go.”
Except when he bends to grab his boxers, more of his ass is on display. More scars are on display.
“Chaos?”
He straightens slowly, eyes downcast.
I close whatever distance is between us. “Who did this to you?”
Viktor nibbles on his bottom lip. “It’s nothing. Just some fun gone wrong.”
Like fuck.
Lifting his chin with my forefinger, I make sure our gazes lock. “You’ve been stalking me, flirting with me, pushing my buttons, and now that you’re about to get what you want, you’re trying to run out of here. So, no Chaos, this isn’t nothing. Who marked your beautiful body like this?”
He throws a dismissive hand in the air, the smile on his face fake. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and it’s too tight. “It's not a big deal. Just a bit of kinky sex.”
“Did you like it?” My voice is calmer because the last thing I want to do is kink shame.
“The sex was great.”
“Not what I asked.”
His shoulders slump a bit. “No.”
“Did you have a safe word? Why didn’t he . . . or she stop?”
He chuckles. It’s soft and low. “I’m gay, so it wasn’t a woman. And it was new and thrilling and I got caught up and Zach—”
“Knight!” My voice booms and I swear people across the street must be able to hear me. “Fucking Zachary Knight did this to you?”
Viktor’s lip trembles, his eyes wide and wet. “Please don’t make a big deal. He just got carried away. It’s in the past.”
“Can’t promise that.”
“He’s my friend.” Viktor steps forward, practically curling into me. “He didn’t mean it. I’ve gotten past it. Please let it go.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Fine. Now get in the shower.”
He goes willingly, more subdued, the heated moment between us gone. As he steps into the stall I really look at the marks on him. Some are definitely from knife play, but others appear to be from a whip. I’ve seen shoddy whip work, mostly from inexperienced people or those who were high or drunk.
