Thanks for freaking me outis what I want to reply but I just nod. As Finn walks to the door and she follows behind, my ex-wife turns to look over her shoulder at me and she mouths ‘I won’t tell anyone.’
Suddenly my lungs expand and I can inhale a full breath. I mouth the words ‘Thank you’ back at her and then Finn opens the door and they disappear, running out into the dark and ridiculously stormy night. I pull my keys out of my pocket, do a quick double-check of the kitchen, making sure everything is off and cleaned, and then walk to the door myself. I flip off the lights and the whole restaurant is thrown into darkness. Normally, even with the lights off, you can see the ocean glinting in the moonlight through the windows at the back, but it’s too stormy tonight. I start to open the door, ready to lock it quickly and make a run for my apartment. But as soon as I open the door, someone pushes their way inside.
I have a second of terror. It’s too dark to see who it is, but they’re tall and broad and strong. I know because of how hard their chest and arms are as they easily push me backward. My hand clenches into a fist and I cock my arm. We’ve never had a robbery but there’s always a first time. But then a scent hits my nostrils, and the fear dissipates. The smell is woodsy and warm and I know it’s Abbott. He’s been using the same cologne since tenth grade. “What the fuck do you want Abbott?”
It’s so dark I can only make out the outline of his body as he steps into the restaurant. I can’t even tell if he’s facing me or not until I feel his hands on my shoulders. He slams me against the now closed door. I feel his chest and torso make contact with mine. His wet clothes dampening mine instantly. “You.”
It’s one word. It’s deep and throaty and it’s like I’ve been directly hit by one of those lightning bolts outside. I’m eviscerated. My will power. My common sense. My survival instincts are all gone. Annihilated by one word. So when his lips crash down on mine there’s no way to stop him. Because I don’t want to anymore.
I’m the one who deepens the kiss immediately, exploring his mouth like I own it. He grinds his hips against me and sparks explode against my eyelids when I feel how hard he is. I reach for his cock, but I only get to palm it through his pants for a painfully quick moment before he steps back. Cupping the back of my head, his lips move to my ear. “I need to suck you off, Deck. I need you in my mouth. I have to taste you again. Please.”
He’s on his knees before I rasp out two needy words. “Do it.”
His hands shove up my shirt and when his lips make contact with my belly, I shudder. I pull my shirt up and off and as it sails to the floor somewhere, I grab his damp hair. Abbott has fucking fantastic hair. It’s thick and coarse and a darker blond than mine. In fact when wet, like it is now, it’s a solid brown. The length is what I can only describe as a little too long, but perfect. It tumbles into his eyes and unlike me, since I let mine grow longer than three inches, he doesn’t mind. He never brushes it away from his eyes, or forehead. I used to do it for him when we’d watch a movie or study together as kids. Now I brush it back, but only to hold onto it.
While his lips kiss and nip at my stomach, his hands are quickly and efficiently getting my pants and underwear off and before I know it — before I can savor the possibilities of what’s to come — his mouth is sliding over my length. A deep, animalistic moan tumbles out of my mouth as my head knocks the glass door behind me. Thunder rolls through the room, from the sky above, followed by a crack of lightning.
In that flash of lightning the room explodes in light and I can see Abbott in front of me, his hand wrapped around my base and his lips sliding over my tip. His eyes tilted up, looking at me, and filled with heat. I groan again and use my grip on his hair to hold him still while I fuck his mouth. His hands move and he grips my bare ass. I don’t speak, but I want to. I want to tell him how hot he looks, how much I’ve missed this, how often I’ve thought about it, how fucking good his mouth feels — how warm and wet and hot. But I shouldn’t even be doing this, let alone confessing how much I’m enjoying it.
Like it or not I feel whole right now, which is ironic because I’m coming apart inside. Piece by piece, I’m inching closer to losing complete control. And as he slides a hand between my ass cheeks, my fingers twist in his hair and he grunts as my hips buck. His index finger barely breaches my hole and I freeze. “I’m gonna…”
He moves, tongue swirling, lips sucking, finger wiggling. And I come with a wail. An actual, literally guttural wail. Abbott stays on his knees, sucking me dry and when I’m finally able to open my eyes, and let go of his hair, he stands in front of me.
Lightning illuminates the room again. Exposing our faces to each other. How does he look as satisfied as I feel? I haven’t touched him. He hasn’t touched himself either. A quick look at the hard bulge in the front of his pants verifies that. The room falls into darkness again and we both seem to sober up.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Of course,” I promise and I am. I mean, if I let myself be, I would feel fan-fucking-tastic. But I’ve never been one who found joy easily, let alone let myself ignore reality in order to achieve it. “Are you?”
“I’ve dreamed about that for years so yeah, I’m good. I’m better than I have been in a decade,” Abbott says, and it creates a dangerous warmth in my chest. He leans close and I let our lips come together, slowly, gently, because I’m weak. But not so weak that I don’t put a hand on the front of his chest and push him away.
I bend down and yank up my pants and underwear and then walk around him, our shoulders bumping lightly as I reach for my shirt. “That was great but it changes nothing.”
“Great?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you wanted it? Me?”
“Of course. I told you earlier tonight, wanting you is all I’ve done since that first fucking kiss,” I confess. “And I found out tonight, I’m not as great at hiding it as I thought. And neither are you so you better figure that out before your first press conference.”
“What?’
Thunder rumbles. It’s getting farther away but it’s still loud as hell. “Nova suspects we’ve been involved in the past.”
“When you were married? You told her that’s not true, right? Do you want me to—"
“Yeah, she knows not while I was with her,” I reply and tug on my shirt. “But if she’s figuring out shit, other people might too.”
“And you care?”
“I’ve told everyone and anyone who will listen I’m gay, Abbott,” I bark. “I’m not the one who’s convinced they’ll lose their career if anyone finds out.”
“Declan, can we talk about it?” Abbott asks. He runs a hand through his hair, which is all over the place thanks to me. “What if… what if I came out?”
Everything seems to dim except his face. I stare at it, wondering if this could possibly be some kind of sick joke. “What?”
“Yeah.” Abbott takes a deep breath, but it’s a struggle. He may be on the verge of freaking out, but I don’t know because I’ve never seen him do that. Ever. “Maybe it’s time. It’s a new team. I’ve won a Cup. I’ve been playing well. The league says it’s inclusive, so maybe I test that theory. Aspen thinks I should.”
