“There’s never only one run, Bear,” he says, one hand sliding between my legs. “That was only the qualifier.”
I glance at him. His eyes are full of heat and challenge. Changing the rules. Fine. I can play along.
I can go all night.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Training ispart of any competition, and by midnight it becomes clear that in addition to our days in the gym and on the hill, Austin has been training for this kind of night for a long time. He is relentless. His mouth, hands, and ass all want me. Anytime. Any way. At one point, on the verge of falling asleep, I wake up to the wet sucking sounds of an enthusiastic blow job and find him between my thighs, mouth on my erect cock when I was sure I had nothing left in me to give. He looks up to find me watching and winks. He’s working his own cock with his hand and when I crook my finger, he grins without ever losing his rhythm, turning himself to straddle my face as his dick dangles invitingly against my lips.
He is insatiable.
Also, he’s a talker. For someone who’s been holding onto a secret the size of wanting to sleep with his best friend, now that the dam has burst, he can’t seem to stop.
“Do you remember that night in California last year?” he asks, lying across my chest. We’re both in that quiet post-orgasm haze where honesty comes out uninvited.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” We competed in California last year, but we also went to a clinic in the off-season nearTahoe. Functional mobility and strength training. A lot of days of sweating and straining. Austin was clearly getting ready for tonight. Would have been nice if he’d given me the heads-up too.
“The night you took Jihoon back to our room,” he says.
My cheeks sizzle. There had been a small contingent from South Korea at the clinic. They’re not a country with a long history of success in snow sports but they’ve been making strides in the last few years. All the more reason for them to come to the clinics and training events, really. And it had mixed up the list of possible partners for some nighttime training of our own. Jihoon had been...yeah. That was a good night. The goggles were on the doorknob for a long time.
Then I remember it’s not Jihoon I’m in bed with now, and reminiscing so fondly is probably some kind of rules violation. I clear my throat and say, “Uh-huh?”
Austin’s eyes are closed, so hopefully he didn’t notice my lapse in attention. He says, “The next day, when we were doing that workshop on visualization techniques, we were supposed to be thinking about ski trails and snow conditions. All I could think about was you. The sounds you’d make. The way it would feel if it were me with you instead of him. It freaked me out how much I wanted you.”
A few nearly forgotten pieces click into place. Austin had been weird that whole weekend. A lot of badly hidden glances and facial expressions that didn’t fit with what was going on around us. The idea that he’d been preoccupied with me and what it would be like for us to go to bed together is exciting in a way I don’t expect. I groan as my dick perks up yet again, enticed by the image of his jealousy. Then I groan some more when I slide a thigh between Austin’s and find he’s hard too.
“Are we at least out of the qualifiers?” I ask. I have no idea what time it is or how long we’ve been at this. I only know I don’t want it to stop. Ever.
He strokes me, bringing me to increasing hardness.
“I’d say we’re definitely at the semis by now.”
The hours tick by.
“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, in the dark hours of the night. I’m so wrecked I don’t even have the energy to respond, but he keeps talking anyway. “I promised myself I’d wait until after the Olympics before I said it. I know you have a plan for qualifying and this could be a huge distraction for you, but I don’t want to wait anymore.”
I shouldn’t have done that. Not yet.
Does he have the date he planned to say he loved me penciled in on a calendar somewhere? Circled and decorated with hearts? Planning is more my thing. As is thinking through my feelings. My face goes hot and my ears ring as I consider his confession. Tonight has been amazing. Way more than a casual hookup with a stranger from a faraway place. But even in the protective cocoon of the smallest hours before dawn, I don’t know that I’m ready to make the same admission.
Austin frames my face with his hands as he spreads his body on top of me. His kisses get softer. Gentler. Like once again he’s trying to make everything better.
“It’s okay if you don’t say it back,” he says, because of course he knows what I’m thinking. We know each other too well to hide secrets. Well...except for one big secret Austin’s been keeping for a long time. How did I never notice? But he doesn’t seem to be too worried, because he says, “I know you don’t feel the same way. Not yet, anyway.”
My mouth works on words I don’t even understand. I do love him. He’s been with me through everything. Seen things and experienced things no one else in the world would ever truly understand, no matter how many times my parents ask me how a training trip went, or how often coaches tell me what I’m working through is normal and to keep pushing.
But am Iinlove with him? It’s not about avoiding distractions. It’s about stepping over a line I’ve never crossed before. “Better off as friends” can be such a cop-out, but what if in this case it’s true?
But also, what if it’s not?
Instead of saying anything, I kiss him some more, and he doesn’t protest my silence.
Later yet, I’m staring at the ceiling, watching the soft blink of the smoke detector overhead. We still haven’t turned all the lights out, and Austin is illuminated by the small light on the nightstand next to him. He’s got his back to me, one arm flung over his face to shield his eyes. I roll, thinking distantly I might reach over him and turn the light out, but when I press up against him, he makes a sleepy pleased sound.
“Missed me already?” he asks. He rocks his ass against my groin, bringing me back to life one more time. The room wheels like I’m drunk, even though the effects of our celebratory beers must have worn off hours ago. My fingers feel heavy, distant, like it’s someone else touching him. He whines when I roll away, then laughs softly as I pull the last condom out of the pack, sliding it on with hands that shake for entirely different reasons than they did the first time. Then it was nerves. Adrenaline. Now it’s exhaustion. I wanted to break Austin, but he is very close to breaking me.
