Oh, I definitely want to. My hands and eyes rove over his naked chest. The flat stomach. Broad shoulders. The light brown hair that swirls over his pecs and down lower, disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers. Who wouldn’t want to fuck Austin Grimm, especially when he looks at them the way he’s looking at me now?
I kiss him. Maybe for the first time. He’s been the one out in front all night, but I’m finally starting to catch up. My tongue finds his and he moans with so much relief I can feel it all the way to my toes. This time, when he tugs at my shirt, I lift my arms over my head to help him. We tumble onto the bed and Icover his body with mine while also shimmying out of my pants. His skin has warmed up quickly and his strong hands cup my ass as he rocks against me.
“This isn’t because of the beer, right?” I ask as I kiss his throat. “You’re not going to sober up in a few hours and realize this was all a mistake?”
He bites my lower lip and the sting makes me hiss.
“The run up the hill cleared me right up,” he says. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
He definitely does, wrapping a strong thigh over my hip to roll us so I’m on my back. Then he scoots down the mattress, until he’s sprawled between my thighs. The outline of my cock is pretty evident in the tight fit of my briefs. Austin gives me a quick look, pale eyes twinkling, before he runs his tongue over the material, making my dick jump as it tries to escape the elastic.
“Holy shit,” I say, arching up.
“Hold on,” he says, peeling my underwear down. “I’m just getting started.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
He works quick,I’ll give him that. He’s got a hand between us, stroking my cock. It’s surprisingly gentle. I push my hips up, urging him on.
“Is that all you got?”
We haven’t even turned the lights out and his smile is bright as he keeps working slowly.
“Trash talk and dirty talk are different things. You know that, right?”
“Not with me they aren’t,” I say, waggling my eyebrows. Now that we’re on firmer emotional ground, I’m ready to play.
He laughs. “Whatever you say, Zed.”
I flinch internally at the nickname. I got over my dislike for it years ago. But right now, it reminds me that once upon a time we were boys lying awake in our shared room the night before a junior race and Austin asked, “What do you think it’s like to kiss a girl?” and my answer was “I’ve only ever thought about kissing boys.”
We aren’t those boys anymore.
“Call me something else,” I say. “Only for tonight.”
He looks up from where he was about to put my dick in his mouth. My timing is terrible, but I need some ground rules to stay comfortable.
“Bear,” he says with a smile, then he flicks his tongue over my slit, making me groan, more from the sensation than the name. He’s called me Bear before—short for my last name, Berard—but it’s never stuck the way Zed did. For tonight, it’ll do.
He sucks me down, his mouth hot and slick. My dick in Austin’s mouth is not where I thought my night was going as I picked snow out of my ears after my fall in the final, but we’ll see who the winner is tonight.
I’m so wound up from everything, it only takes a minute or two before my balls tingle and draw up, getting ready to shoot like a skier in the starting gate.
“Stop,” I say, putting a hand on the back of Austin’s head. It can’t be over yet. I pull out of his mouth, and a trail of saliva spills over his chin. When he goes to wipe it away, I sit up and catch his mouth with mine. It’s messy. Sloppy. The trail becomes a smear, and I swipe my tongue over it. Austin whines. Slowly, I climb up the mattress until I’m leaning against the headboard. Austin follows, crawling like a predator, which only turns me on more. He straddles my hips, and his cock, long and curving slightly upward, bobs in invitation. I’ve seen it before, of course. We gave up on being shy about nudity pretty quickly as our winters on the race circuit got bigger and busier. Shared rooms and tight race schedules don’t leave much space for modesty. But his dick has never been this close and begging for me. I eye him for a second, thinking about sucking him off now until he comes. He clearly wants it, and I’d find it very satisfying. Coming first isn’t always a winning tactic, after all.
“Bear,” he says softly, bumping the smooth head of his dick against my lips. I open for him. He’s leaking already as he slides over my tongue. He tastes salty and the musk of his groin fillsmy nose. He’s everywhere. All around me. I don’t even have to do anything. Just hold still and keep my tongue flat as he pumps closer and closer until he finally hits the back of my throat and I gag.
“Sorry. Sorry.” In a second, Austin slips free of my mouth, bending down to kiss me like he still wants to make it all better. His concern makes me laugh.
“I should probably admit that all the times we talked about blow jobs and how awesome I am at them, particularly when it comes to receiving, I was maybe exaggerating,” I say. It didn’t seem important at the time. Who hasn’t talked up their bedroom prowess when hanging out with the guys? I didn’t think it would ever become relevant to real life, or that I’d have to prove my supposedly legendary lack of a gag reflex to my best friend.
But Austin settles back on his heels, kissing me some more. It’s nice. A little weird. He’s so familiar and this is all so new. I run a finger over his collarbone, then past the freckles on his shoulder that I’ve seen a thousand times on a thousand summer days. A thousand afternoons at the gym. I kiss them, then work my way down his biceps and to the crease of his elbow, which makes him jerk, pulling his arm away.
“Ticklish?” I ask.
“No.” But the curve of his mouth says otherwise. I bite my lower lip, thinking about my next move. He watches me, and his nostrils flare when he finally realizes where my train of thought is headed. “Don’t you dare.”
