“You too, J-Bomb.”
Yeah, Blake Riley gives nicknames to dudes he’s just met. Why am I not surprised?
I spare a quick glance in Wes’s direction as I pass the couch. His jaw is tighter than his grip around his beer bottle. His free hand is toying with the silver barbell in his eyebrow, fingers twisting the small piercing round and round. I’ve known this guy since I was thirteen years old. I can read him like a book, and it’s obvious he’s not happy at the moment.
Neither am I, but short of forcibly kicking Blake out, there’s nothing either one of us can do except pretend we’re just roommates who sometimes watch TV together.
Tired as I am, I make it a few paces down the hall before I realize I have a problem. I can’t go to sleep in our bed. Though I haven’t met Blake until tonight, I can’t say with any certainty that he’s never been here before. When he was checking out the building, did he see our apartment? Did Wes show him the view from the master bedroom?
Our rarely used cover story is that the guest room is mine. So I do a little u-turn in the darkened hall and walk into the guest bathroom. There’s a toothbrush and toothpaste that I put in here a while ago to make the room appear lived-in.
I thought I was so fucking clever for thinking up this bit ofset-dressing. But now here I stand pretending my own room isn’t really mine.
Retiring to the guest room, I shut the door against the soundtrack of the TV program. Since Wes and I moved in together, this room has only been used once—when my folks flew in from California for a weekend visit. Tonight I’m the one tossing my clothes on the floor and pulling down the unfamiliar quilt to slip into the cold double bed. And I don’t like it.
I roll onto my side and measure all the things wrong with this moment. The curtains are sheer rather than black-out navy. The mattress is softer than I’m used to and the pillow beneath my head is lumpier.
My boyfriend is in the living room, instead of sexing me up, like he’s supposed to.
I close my eyes and try to sleep.
I’m dreamingabout a hot tub, and the jets are terrific. Only—my dick is the only part of me that fits in the hot tub. But that’s okay because I’m hard and the water is incredible. Magic even.
Oh wait...
Scratch that.
There’s a hot mouth around my very hard dick. And maybe Iamstill dreaming because my surroundings make no sense to me when I open my eyes. The light is all wrong, and the headboard makes a soft, unfamiliar squeak as a dark head bobs over me, a sexy mouth going to town on my cock.
Damn, that’s good.
“You awake, babe?” Wes rasps.
“Kinda? Don’t stop.”
His chuckle massages the head of my dick. “Good. I was starting to feel like a creeper.”
A strong hand grips my shaft and another husky moan slips out of me. “What time is it?” My head is still foggy from sleep. My plan had been to sneak back into our bedroom after Blake left, but I must have passed out the moment after my head hit the lumpy pillow.
“Eleven-thirty.” His voice is soft. “I won’t keep you awake long, promise. I just… Mmm.” The noise he makes sounds like it’s wrenched deep from his soul. “I missed you so fucking much.”
The resentment I’d been wearing like a shield all night disintegrates to dust. I missed him too, and I’d be a real asshole if I held Blake’s unwelcome interruption against Wes. It wasn’t his fault that his teammate popped by. And it’s not his fault he has to travel so much. We both knew going into this that as long as Wes was playing professional hockey, there would be long absences to deal with.
I weave my hands through his dark hair and yank him up. “C’mere,” I say gruffly.
His warm, muscular body slides up and covers mine, and I tug his head down for a kiss. I love his lips. They’re firm and hungry. They’re magic. Our kisses deepen, growing more and more desperate as our bodies rock on the mattress, making it squeak uncontrollably.
Wes wrenches his mouth away with a laugh. “Dude, we aresolucky your parents didn’t have sex when they were visiting. This bed is so loud.”
“Would’ve traumatized me for life,” I agree. Then I’m kissing him again, because damn it, it’s late, I have to wake up in six hours, and I need this too much.
Wes reads my mind and thrusts his tongue through myparted lips. I eagerly suck on it, then grunt in disappointment. “I miss the tongue ring,” I tell him breathlessly. He’d taken out the piercing at the start of the season. I guess the team didn’t think it was safe.
“Don’t you worry,” Wes teases. “I can still rock your world without it.” A moment later that talented tongue is traveling down my bare chest and returning to my aching cock.
He swallows me up and my hips jerk off the bed. Jesus. We’ve exchanged hundreds of blowjobs since we got together, but it never fails to amaze me just howgoodthis feels. Wes knows exactly what to do to get me off. His confidence is a major turn-on, and he needs absolutely no direction when it comes to pleasing me.
Of course, that doesn’t stop me from muttering out orders. But that’s because we both dig the dirty talk. “That’s it, man. Lick the tip. Yeah, just like that.” I have one hand bunched in his hair, the other clutching the sheets. It’s been so long since I had his mouth on me, and the pressure in my balls is almost unbearable.
