“Jealousy doesn’t make for boners.”
“I’ll tell you what does though, any time I think about you.About your hands in my hair and your tongue in my slit. About the little groan you make when you push into me like you can’t believe how good it feels. And the way you dig your fingers into my hips when you get close.”
My pulse sped. I let out one of those small groans as, on the other end of the phone, there was a sound like he was shifting his weight.
“Now, imagine you’re lying here beside me in the sunshine, and I’m teasing you through your shorts.”
Just like he’d done that day in the tiny London bathroom before dropping to his knees.
“I’m stroking gently and you’re getting hard. Mm, I love the feeling of you growing in my hand, but what’s even better is you swelling in my mouth. Let me pull down your shorts so I can suck you.”
Hardly thinking, my hand crept toward my definitely-swelling-now dick.
“I suck you slowly, taking you right into my throat until you’re rock hard and wet. Then with a final spit for good measure, I slowly lower myself onto your cock. Your hands holding my ass, keeping me spread. God, you feel good, Mat. Filling me right up.”
Through the wall, I could hear Dad telling the twins that it was too early for them to be at this already, but it had all become background noise to Miles’ voice, to the way his breathing had quickened and the gravelly catch when his words became groans. He was absolutely stroking himself while he spoke and it was absolutely blowing my mind.
I leapt off the bed and closed the bedroom door, and because this house had no locks anywhere but the bathroom, I wedged my back against it before pulling out my cock.
“Now, I’m just sitting here waiting to be used,” he said. “Are you going to wreck me, Mat?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Going to grip my hips and fuck me until my eyes roll?”
“Yeah.”
Too well could I imagine it, sitting there with my eyes closed, stroking myself to the rhythm of his heavy breathing. The weight of him astride me. The curve of his arse in my hands. He would be so glorious naked in the sunshine, his blond hair shining and his cock bouncing as I pounded into him.
“God,” he groaned. “I fucking love it when you wreck me.”
And I fucking loved doing it. Everything about him was so intoxicating, but nothing more so than how comfortable he was with the desires and joys of his body – a beautifully-filthy sensuality that made me want to be the only one who could make him moan. And which had brought us so easily to this moment of heat shared across the greatest distance.
“Fuck,” he said, every breath coming short and sharp against my ear. “Come inside me, Mat, please!”
“Yeah, I’m going to. I’m fucking going to.”
I could hear him getting close and it was driving me wild. Nothing else mattered. A herd of elephants trampling through the house could not have stopped me, and certainly not the argument still sounding through the wall.
“Come with me,” Miles gasped out, and giving full voice to his pleasure, he came with a glorious moan against my ear that could have gotten me halfway there all on its own. As it was, it needed to do hardly any work as I bit my lip and came hard, hating that I could give him only the ragged hitch of my heavy breath in return.
“Fuck,” I hissed, laughing as I looked down at the mess I’d made on my shirt.
“So much for can’t even get hard,” Miles said, smug as fuck and having thoroughly earned it. “That was hot. Though maybe next time you should sneak away somewhere so I can hear you moan.”
“Next time I’m going to be there fucking your brains out in person.”
He hummed appreciatively. “That’d better be a promise.”
“You whistle, I’ll come,” I said, all too aware just how much truth was in those words.
“What a service,” he laughed. “Can’t wait.”
I WAS WORRIED going in. Aside from the added expense, taking on a new coach would mean learning to work and travel with a stranger. And what if I chose poorly? Danny hadn’t been the coach I needed and maybe Tomas wouldn’t be either, and how long would it take to figure that out?
Nico came with me to the courts, his joy in being my hitting partner equalled only by his joy in getting a day off school. Benji had complained and begged to join us, but Mum had been firm that we didn’t need a ballboy, especially one who wouldn’t take his nose out of his phone.
We went early for a hit, and I was giving Nico advice on his serve when Danny arrived, accompanied by a stylishly-dressed man on the younger side of forty who had one of those square jaws that could crack rocks.
