“That’ll change once you lose the first game,” Brody interrupted with a laugh. “Trust me.”
“Who said we’re going to lose?” I smirked.
“Oh, damn! I love it.” Dev slapped his knee and howled. “There’s that confidence you bring on the field every week. Some call it arrogance, don’t they?”
I arched a brow. “They can call it whatever they want. I come every week with the intention of winning. It’s up to the other team to take that away from me. And I know my teammates feel the same. We’re fired up for a winning season.”
“I know that adrenaline rush every Sunday. How’s the transition been with your team?”
I leaned back in my chair. This podcast wasn’t such a bad gig after all. “My teammates are terrific. And as you know, the Kings are a great organization. They’ve been great every step of the way, even making a very generous donation to my charity—shoutout to Hearts and Hands. They provide services to families with terminally ill children. I spend time in the off-season visiting hospitals to see the kids. They inspire me every day.”
“A very worthy cause that Brody and I donate to as well. Anytime you want us to come with you, give a holler.” Dev leaned into the mic. “Now that we’ve got the professional part of the program out of the way…” His grin widened, and I groaned and shook my head. Brody pointed and cackled.
“You knew it was coming, man. Don’t pretend you’re surprised the listeners want to hear about your personal life.”
Covering my eyes with my hands, I hung my head. “Damn, guys. I’ve only been here a hot minute, and my concentration’s been on the game. Give a guy some time.”
But Dev had always been a persistent fucker. “I bet the ladies are chomping at the bit now that you’re single again. We heard you had some fun on the recent road trip.”
“If they are, I’m not paying attention. And that was just me being friendly to the local fans. You remember how it was. We’re in the heart of the season, and my only goal is to bring another Super Bowl to the fans and the Kings. Besides, I’ve only just moved into my new apartment. I barely know where my towels are.”
“How do you like living in the city?” Brody asked. “I remember moving here and not being able to believe the size of the crowds everywhere. Sometimes I still can’t.”
“Yeah, I’m from a small Kansas town, and I think I see more people here walking down the street in one morning than I everdid in a week at home. But there’s an energy and vitality…I didn’t think I would, but I love it.”
“A big difference from San Diego and the West Coast, I’m thinking?” Brody questioned. “Do you miss the weather?”
“Well, yeah. But I’m looking forward to the change of seasons.”
“Okay, let’s talk about the game. What do you anticipate from the Mavericks on Sunday?”
I breathed a sigh of relief that we’d returned to discussing football. “The Mavs are a tough team. They’ve had a hard schedule this year, and we anticipate a fight. I don’t believe their record reflects the talent on their team—Orion Woods might be a rookie quarterback, but he’s fast and quick. Juno Walters is one of the best tight ends now that you’ve retired, Brody. And they have a bunch of tackles and guards who are built like tanks.”
There. That was playing nice. I didn’t want to shit-talk the opponent and give them any more reason to gun for our asses other than the fact that we were the best team in the league and had a target on our backs. Everyone hated a winner.
“I agree. I see Orion having a great future in the league.” Dev gave me a nod. “We’d better let you go, Trick, but I wanna thank you for being such a good sport and stepping in at the last minute. Good luck on Sunday, and we’ll be at the game. Eyes on you, my brother.”
“Just call me Stunt Double Sloane. It was my pleasure—anytime. And I’ll do my best. Talk to you soon, guys.” I gave them a salute and tapped out of the podcast. I removed my headphones and spun in my chair to see Fallon on the couch, staring intently at the computer screen. I doubted he even knew I was finished with the podcast, and I crept over behind him and pressed a kiss to his neck.
“Hi,” I whispered, and he shivered under my lips.
“H-hi. I didn’t know you were finished.”
“Yeah. A minute ago. What’re you so wrapped up in? Must be important.”
He shut the computer and turned around, kneeling on the couch to face me. Big blue eyes hazy with desire, cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted, he was everything perfect, and my bones went weak.
“Not at all.”
“Good. Because I need to do this right now.” I slid my hands through his hair, anchoring him, and settled my mouth over his. Like the other night, I lost myself in the silky, sweet taste of Fallon’s tongue. I sucked hard, and he moaned.
“More. Everything.” His tongue met mine, teasing and dancing.
The absolute abandon with which he gave himself to me was a fucking turn-on. “Come on. I can’t do what I want to you on the couch. I need room.”
His hand in mine, we almost ran to the bedroom and stripped until we were both naked. His dick rose out stiff and proud, and I needed to put my mouth on it. On my knees, I took him all the way to the back of my throat, and Fallon’s eyes fell shut, mouth open and gasping for air.
“Fuck me, oh God, Patrick, I need you.”
