“Sounds like a plan.” He grins at me. “So. Ready for roundtwo? And then breakfast. We have to keep our strength up for the workout I’m giving you today and tonight.”
My gaze lowers to his crotch, and I raise a brow when I see the semi he’s sporting. “You’re a raging horndog this morning, huh?” But the sight of it has me hardening again, too, which only makes his grin widen.
“Pot, kettle, et cetera et cetera.” He steps forward and kisses me, then tugs me away from the counter.
Laughing, we leave the sparkling clean and semen-free kitchen and race toward our shower. For the first time in weeks, there’s a lightness in my chest. I just want to spend the entire day naked with my sex-crazed boyfriend.
But as I discover ten minutes later, you really can’t always get what you want.
SIX
WES
The loud pounding on the door can only come from one person. Nobody else in the building knows who I am, and even if they did, nobody would be rude enough to bang on the door at eight in the fucking morning. Nobody but Blake Riley, that is.
Jamie and I freeze mid-kiss in the center of our bedroom. We’re both buck naked, dripping from the shower we just took and sporting raging hard-ons. He looks as annoyed as I feel.
“Maybe if we ignore him he’ll go away,” I murmur.
Jamie makes an annoyed sound under his breath.
“Wesley! Open up!”
Blake’s muffled voice travels toward the bedroom, and Jamie’s expression darkens even more.
“C’mon, bro, it’s an emergency!”
My shoulders tense. Shit. For some reason, my first thought is that the truth about my sexual orientation broke out. How egotistical is that? Like the media in Toronto has nothing better to do than report on who Ryan Wesley is screwing. Still,it’s my biggest fear. That the success I’ve been having in my first season with Toronto will be overshadowed—or worse, forgotten—because being a gay professional athlete is the far juicier story.
“This could be important,” I tell Jamie, while trying to convey with my eyes just how unhappy I am with the interruption.
I throw on a pair of sweatpants and go to answer the door. Blake barrels inside wearing track pants and a gray undershirt that shows off his huge biceps.
“Thank fuck,” he groans. “Do you have coffee? I’m desperate!”
I watch open-mouthed as he charges into the kitchen and starts opening cupboards like he owns the place.Seriously? He nearly broke down my door because he wantscoffee? I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from pointing out that there are hundreds of Tim Hortons in Toronto, two of them within a three-block radius of our building.
“How lucky is it that we’re neighbors?” Blake grabs a mug from the cupboard and heads to the other side of the counter to click on the coffee maker.
Lucky? I’m about ten seconds from committing a murder. Except I know that giant body wouldn’t fit into the hallway chute that feeds our building’s trash compactor.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach when I notice the mug he’s holding. It’s one of a pair, with the word HIS written on it, courtesy of Cindy Canning. She gave us the mugs for the holidays, and I can honestly say it’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. I want to snatch it out of his huge hand and say “Mine!” Maybe pee on it to mark my territory. But Blake has already filled my favorite mug with coffee and is raising it to his mouth.
He leans on the counter and sips the hot liquid, then lets out a contented sigh. “Thanks, man. I can’t function without my morning vitamin C.”
He’s thanking me as if I graciously invited him in for a cup of joe. Which I did not.
Footsteps echo in the hall and then Jamie walks into the kitchen. He’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants too, along with a blue button-down shirt. The shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his washboard abs and smooth, golden skin.
“Morning,” he mumbles without looking in my direction.
“Aw shit, did I wake you?” Blake sounds genuinely regretful. “I’m bad at knocking on doors.” He holds up one massive hand. “These paws don’t know how to be gentle.”
“It’s okay, I had to get up anyway,” Jamie answers. He pours himself a cup of coffee, then glances over his shoulder at me. “Got any plans for today?”
I know he’s trying to act like a polite roommate, but the pain in his eyes rips me apart. I want to open my mouth and declare, “My plan is to spend the whole day under your naked body!” and Blake be damned. I keep my mouth shut, though. Jamie and I have worked hard to keep our relationship under wraps since the start of the season. We can survive a few more months of hiding.
“Not sure yet,” I say lightly.
