Our friends pretend not to notice our bickering aside from a one-sided smile from Kaden when he quickly glances in my direction. I’ll have to remember tomorrow to add his email address to every mailing list I can find to spam the fuck out of him.
We settle back into the game, and sure enough, when Gabe leans back, he’s sporting a hard-on—my traitorous dick twitches, recalling the feeling of him inside me.
When his arm rests against mine, goosebumps bloom from the point of contact, spreading over my body like wildfire. I swear he’s doing this on purpose just to get a rise out of me.
“Do you mind?” I say to him as I scoot over even closer to Connor.
“Listen, I love you, Ender, but I don’t want you sitting on my lap. Thank you very much.” Connor nudges me back toward Gabe. The three of us are not little guys, and sitting on this side of the sectional together is kind of a tight fit.
As I slide away from Connor, Gabe lays his arm across the back of the couch behind me. “This better?” he says, low enough for only the two of us to hear, gently sweeping his thumb over my shoulder. The smell of lavender lingers when he pulls away from my face, reminding me of the shower I took at his place.
Just as I lean forward to avoid his caress, my team finally lands one in the net. “Yes!” I shout a little louder than necessary, turning to Connor for a high-five.
“That was one hundred percent interference! No way that goal makes it through review.” Gabe’s taunting over a valid play infuriates me even more.
“Bullshit. That was a solid rebound. Your goalie didn’t even see it coming.”
“He hasn’t let one in the net all night—you think he’d miss a shot like that? Get out of here with that nonsense.”
“How is a rebound nonsense?” Gabe laughs at my protesting. “Do you know anything about hockey, or do you just watch it to drool over the players? I bet you love warmups, don’t you?” Sweat begins to prickle my skin, heat radiating from my scalp to every part of my body, and my fists clench as my next words spew from my lips. “You probably go to games early just to fog up the glass watching the players’ warmup exercises. Do you bring your fuckboys with you, or are you too afraid to make them jealous of your obsession with some hockey team captain thatstillhas zero clue who you are and never will?”
The pulsing sound in my ears drowns out any other noise in the room. “Oh wait, no. You only bring the fuckboys out when you call a guyperfectright after you fuck his brains out and then act like it never happened. Just another notch for you to carve in your bedpost, right? You must’ve been worried about meeting your quota for the month, so you’re handing out pity fucks like they’re bracelets for Swifties.” My lungs are screaming for relief, but I can’t stop myself. “Then you have the audacity to buy memy favorite beer as what, a bribe? Is this you trying to make me forgive you for being a total asshole? I’m not one of your little groupies, Gabe. I may not have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I don’t need you to feel sorry for me!”
Gabe’s eyes go wide before he raises his voice back at me. “First of all, what you saw at the club was not what you think it was!” My resistance falters for a split second—and he notices. “I was telling him to fuck off because he wouldn’t leave me alone.” He takes a breath and lowers his voice. “You’re not a groupie, and I don’t feel sorry for you, Ender. I didn’t pity fuck you or whatever other bullshit you’ve convinced yourself of since we’ve met. I’m head over heels for you, despite you believing you’re unlovable. I don’t know who made you believe that shit, but I have some choice words for them.”
“Fuck you!”
Both of our tempers are flaring, and I can’t hear the TV over our voices at this point. I don’t know when our friends left, but when we finally take a second to catch our breath, Gabe and I are both standing alone in the room, his hands on his hips and my head spinning from the adrenaline coursing through me.
“Are you done?” His question feels like a red flag waving in front of me.
“No, I’m not done! I’m fucking angry!”
His eyes roam from my head to my toes and finally connect with mine, and he’s fucking looking at me like he’s keeping a secret all to himself.
“Why the fuck are you grinning, Gabe?”
“You say you’re angry, but your dick says otherwise.” His gaze motions down to my swollen dick practically bursting out of my jeans. I didn’t even feel the pressure until he brought my erection into the conversation.
Meeting his cocky expression again, I refuse to accept his assumption. “It has nothing to do with you. It hates you, and sodo I.” Protectively crossing my arms to my chest, I look away before he sees the truth behind my lies.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do!” I reiterate toward the TV.
His hand grasps my chin, forcing me to make eye contact. “No, Ender. You don’t.”
“Don’t fucking tell—” He swallows the end of my rejection as his mouth crashes into mine, ravishing me in a clash of teeth and tongues while he tears open my jeans with complete disregard for the button and zipper, pushing them to my thighs with my boxers in one quick motion.
He fists my dick hard, making me wince at the abrupt pressure. “What were you saying?” He begins to stroke slowly, refusing to let up on the stranglehold he has on me. “Go ahead. Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me how much you hate me, Ender.” His demands scorch my flesh between each relentless bite of his teeth on my neck and shoulder. My stubborn brain tries to reject the pleasure, but my body is begging for more—and he knows it.
My scalp burns as he pulls my head to the side, placing his hand under my mouth with another order. “Spit, now. And make it good.”
When I don’t follow his command, the abuse on my scalp heightens and a fucking whimper escapes me. “Now.” The thunder outside seems to roll ominously with his command, sending a spike of adrenaline through my bloodstream, my lungs suddenly starved of oxygen.
Abandoning my resistance, I look him dead in the eyes and gather as much spit as I can, letting it drop into his hand, leaving a trail of it lingering between my mouth and his palm.
Using his tongue to clean the remnants off my chin before violently thrusting it into my mouth, he pulls a reverberating groan from deep within me, and I have to grab his hips as myknees threaten to give out. His slicked hand grabs my cock, resuming its mission with fervor. It doesn’t give a second of reprieve, twisting around my cockhead with every upward stroke as his thumb swipes roughly over my slit.
