“I know,” he says, cutting me off gently. “It’s wild. And scary. And I wish I could put you in my pocket and take you to every meeting so I could breathe.”
My throat constricts. “I wish I could do the same.”
He kisses me again, quick and warm. “We’re getting there,” he whispers. “One step. One season. One song.”
I press my face into his shoulder, breathing him in like oxygen.
Outside the window, LA is still awake. Sirens distant. Traffic hums. A city that never stops performing. But in here, in this room, in this bed, I finally feel like I can stop.
Rafe shifts, tugging me closer until my chest is flush to his back. His hand finds mine, fingers brushing the ring like he knows exactly where it is. “Still there,” he murmurs, half asleep again.
“Always,” I whisper.
He hums, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Now sleep. You’ve got training camp soon, Captain.”
The nickname is older than the League, older than the draft, older than the cameras. It’sus.
I grin into his skin, exhaustion crashing down now that I’m safe enough to let it. “Morning”—I’m already smiling—“you better remember your promise.”
Rafe’s laugh is a sleepy, wicked thing. “Oh,” he says, voice fading as he drifts, “I’ll remember.”
And for the first time all night—maybe all week—my body unclenches completely. Because I’m not alone, my husband is here, and the Converse on the floor mean home found me, even in a hotel room the team paid for.
I close my eyes and let myself rest.
3
Wet,perfect heat surrounds my cock. This right here, Rafe’s mouth wrapped around me, is officially the best way to be woken.
“Nngh…” spills from my lips. It’s all I can manage between my sleepy brain and the zip of sensation tightening my balls and hardening my dick.
Rafe’s tight grip replaces his mouth. “Morning, baby.”
I lift my head and peer down at him, taking in his self-satisfied grin and the gleam in his dark eyes. Before I can respond, he licks the head of my cock, then sucks me to the back of his throat.
“Fuck.” The word is wrenched from somewhere deep in my chest as my head slams back against my pillow. A second “Fuck” is tugged from somewhere deeper, likely my balls, when he grabs said balls and gently pinches and massages them.
My breaths turn to pants as Rafe bobs up and down, sucking and swallowing while teasing my sac, and it’s no good—I need to touch, to see.
I angle up and reach down, carding my fingers through his curls. They’re wild and soft and the perfect length for me to grip in the way I know he likes. As soon as the strands aretight between my fingers, Rafe groans. The vibration tightens my balls, drawing them up high.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last. Rafe, baby.” It’s been over ten days since his mouth’s been on me. No way can I handle much more.
He sucks harder, his gaze capturing mine, and he doesn’t need to say a word for me to understand his own need.
I bite down on my bottom lip and thrust into his mouth. His eyes immediately close, taking each plunge with a serenity that is at complete odds with the desperation of my thrusts and the spit slicking my balls.
Rafe moves his hand, and a fresh shiver ripples through me. I love when he gets himself off when he’s going down on me. Knowing he’s so desperate and can’t wait is a hell of a turn-on.
White flashes before my eyes, and my balls tighten even more. It’s the only warning before my toes curl and bliss slams into me, along with my orgasm. “Fuck,” I cry out, struggling to keep my gaze fixed on Rafe as he swallows my cum while ropes keep shooting into his mouth.
His eyes flutter closed, muscles straining before a tremor takes over as he comes.
My limbs shake, skin and cock hypersensitive as I shudder through the last of my release. I stroke his hair, barely able to keep my eyes open, and when he pulls away from me with puffy lips, my dick gives a final twitch of approval. How can it not when Rafe looks so spectacularly gorgeous like this.
“Come here,” I urge, dragging him up my body, needing his mouth on mine.
He comes easily, like he was always headed this way, bracing one hand beside my shoulder as he kisses me. It’s slow. Unrushed. His mouth is warm and familiar, tasting faintly of sleep and me and something that feels like home. He hums softlywhen I sigh into him, the sound vibrating straight through my chest.
