Grady lifts his gaze to my face. “Really? Now? I have been trying to talk to you for two months, and you’ve been treating me like I don’t exist. I even attempted to try again on the way to the rink, and you blew me off while insulting me. And now, because some video reminded you of the good old days, you want to act like besties again?”
I have never seen Grady this annoyed. He’s always so chill and unbothered by everything. He glares harder and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, my timing sucked with moving out. But my intentions were honorable, and no, Landon, I don’t run. I’d have gladly stuck around and helped you through the breakup if I thought I could do that as a friend. But we both know there’s shit between us that isn’t just friendly and that would have not just blurred the line but annihilated it. So I gave us both some space. So we could both see the line.”
“So you didn’t want me to hit on you, so you left.”
“For fuckssake, Landon, stop thinking like a narcissist,” he snaps and elbows the pillow beside him before rubbing his forehead like I’m giving him a migraine. “I gave us space so I didn’t end up as your revenge fuck, or rebound, or whatever. Because firstly, those never actually help someone get past a relationship, and secondly, I didn’t want to be used by you like that. It would have ruined our friendship worse than my moving out. As soon as you and Angie were officially over, I knew if you’d had one weak moment, made one move on me, I would have totally let it happen because I spent every moment in that house with you wanting to fuck around again. Leaving was about my lack of willpower.”
I stare at him, my lungs feel like they’re made of concrete, unable to expand. “Well, joke’s on you because I’m totally over my break-up, but the idea of fucking around with you again is still top of my to-do list.”
The room is nothing but Friends dialogue and audience laughter now. Neither one of us is speaking. Neither one of us is moving. We’re both holding our breath. It’s like someone hit pause on real life, not the television. I blink and then suddenly, Grady is moving. He’s off the bed, and in two urgent strides, he’s directly in front of me, grabbing my face in his rough hands, slamming his whole weight into me so my back hits the door with a thump, and crushing his lips to mine in a searing kiss.
Chapter 18
Grady
I can’t stop, and why should I? He’s single. I’m single. This is consensual. This is a long time coming. The kiss is deep and rough, and his hands are already inside my pajama pants, cupping my bare ass, fingers pressing in so deep he might leave marks. The idea of being marked by Landon is hot.
“I get hard for you all the fucking time,” Landon whispers into my mouth. “At practice, fuck, during games, at home alone. Everywhere. All the time I think about your cum spraying all over because of my hand.”
Feverishly, my hands move to unbutton his shirt. The silly boy is still in his post-game dress shirt and suit pants. I get the shirt undone in record time and only lift my weight off him long enough to yank it over his wide shoulders, down his arms, and off his body. Landon is one of the only hockey players I know with no ink. At least I haven’t found any yet. His skin is smooth and clean, and taut. I want to suck and lick and nip every fucking inch of it, so I start sucking my way down the column of his neck toward his collarbone.
His hands slide under the waistband of my pajamas, moving from my ass and around my hips in search of my cock. When his fingers brush it, I fight a shudder and graze my teeth over one of his nipples. “Don’t be shy,” I challenge. “Do whatever it is you’ve been thinking of doing. Show me you want me.”
His hand wraps firmly and exquisitely around my shaft. “I want to jerk you off again, and I want you to come on my face. In my mouth. I wanna taste it.”
I fight the urge to shoot my load immediately. And this time, I can’t fight the shiver of lust that consumes me. I look up and catch him smiling, so I bite his nipple. His hand around my cock immediately gets to work, jerking me like it’s his god given talent. I move to his other nipple, and when I can’t concentrate anymore, I slip down to my knees, making it impossible for him to keep his hand around me, and I start undoing his pants with as much speed as I can. When they drop to the ground, I tug his underwear down too. His cock is exactly how I remember, moderately long and abundantly thick and leaking. My mouth waters. “Your cock is gonna feel so good in my ass one day.”
I don’t know if his knees give out or if he just drops on purpose, but suddenly he’s down on the carpet with me and we’re tumbling onto our sides. His tongue is in my mouth, exploring desperately. His hands are in my hair, tugging and twisting, and I grab his narrow hips and pull them flush with my naked body. Our cocks rub together, and we both groan.
“Will you jerk me off while I jerk you off? I wanna watch you touch me while I touch you.” Landon’s voice is breathy and soft with vulnerability, and as always, it makes me melt into a puddle of hormones. I will do whatever this man wants, which is why he’s so fucking dangerous.
I let go of his hips, pull back a little, and wrap my hand around his cock. He does the same to mine and it’s barely a minute before we’re both sobbing out moans and jerking each other at a relentless pace.
“I’m close.”
“Me too.”
“Would you really… let me… fuck you… one day?” The words are gasps, and when I force my eyes to pull themselves from Landon’s perfect cock, which is turning purple and throbbing in my palm, to his face, I see the way he’s biting his bottom lip and flushing with the restraint he’s trying to cling to.
“You can fuck me, Landon,” I promise. “You can fuck me.”
“Oh fuck… Oh God…” Apparently, that’s all he needs, and ropes of cum pulse from him, coating my hand.
And that’s all I need. My hips punch forward, every muscle in my body strains, and I groan as I let go right there with him.
When our hands have stilled and breathing is no longer an impossibility, I open my eyes. Landon’s head is tipped down, his eyes on the mess we’ve created, which sticks to our hands and stomachs. He gently lets go of my spent member and lifts his hand to his mouth. I watch his tongue tentatively slide out and swipe at a drop of my release on his knuckle. Inside me, lust goes from a dying ember to a flame again.
His eyes find mine. “You taste good.”
“Oh yeah? Prove it.” I lean in and kiss him, tasting myself on his perfect tongue.
This was amazing, so of course, as the hormones fade to a reasonable level, and as we wash up, I start to panic. I watch him dress, leaning against the door frame to the bathroom. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, but I should,” he says quietly. “Our plane tomorrow is at six in the morning, and it’s already midnight.”
I nod. “Yeah, okay.”
He turns to me before reaching for the door. “If you ever say that shouldn’t have happened, I will clock you.”
