His moans grew more ragged. His eyes fluttered closed.
“That’s it. Take it like a good boy and come for me.”
As though that was the last straw, he came with a sudden, intense cry muffled by my dick, the vibration of it adding to the sheer arousal that was watching him get off to this. I thrust deep into it, gripping the back of his head as I came in his throat, and it was all I could do to keep my own cry from rattling the damn windows.
“Wow,” I said when I found my voice again. “That was . . .”
“Really fucking hot,” Miles finished, a little breathless. He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face like he was on court, and grimaced when he realised he’d come on it. “I’ll be right back,” he said, clearing his throat and heading to the bathroom, already stripping off the shirt.
While he cleaned himself up, I pulled off my own clothes and dropped naked onto the untouched bed, the setting new but the feeling of ease entirely familiar. He joined me when he returned, flopping onto the covers beside me all soft hair and long limbs and that easy smile. “Hi,” he said, fingers finding my bare chest.
“Hi,” I replied. “How you doing?”
“Much better after that.”
He went on gently sliding his hands over my skin as though marking my contours, so I dared to tangle our legs together, pulling us closer. “Is this our thing now?” I asked, keeping my tone light as though I wasn’t hungering for still more touch, hungering to hold him and kiss him and live inside his skin. “Hooking-up in hotel rooms?”
“Since we both live in them now, I guess so, yeah. How’s the new team?”
“They’re pretty great actually. I told you about Tomas. He’s . . . good for me, I think. Focussed on my head as much as my game. And Macca is our requisite straight guy. He’s fun. Don’t know him that well yet, but he’s got an interest in strength and conditioning, and his massages are brutal in the best way.”
“Macca?” He gave me one of his suspicious looks. “You Aussies are so ridiculous at nicknames that I can’t even begin to guess what his actual name is.”
“Ben.”
Miles laughed, and by god had I missed the sound, missed the way it lit up my heart. “Sure, why not? Why don’t you have a stupid nickname? Shouldn’t you be Matto—Oh, I guess because both your names already end in a vowel.”
“Yeah, my parents call me Matty sometimes,” I said, “but that’s about it. You could be Callo.”
“No thank you! You do that and I’ll kick you out.”
He jabbed me in the ribs, an attack that soon became a friendly wrestling match interspersed with kisses and laughter, until I hooked his knee from beneath him and landed him on his back. Pinning him to the bed, I said, “I win, so I get naming rights.”
“Not how it works,” he said, half-heartedly trying to buck me off.
I bent to kiss him, the thrill of being able to possess this part of him never ceasing. “It is now, Princess.”
Miles’s laugh was a gentle hum against my lips before he lifted his head off the pillow to kiss me harder. Hungrily. While beneath my hands, his fingers curled to hold mine.
When I pulled back I did so slowly, the kiss lingering, our lips sticking like they didn’t want to part. And when they did, those dark eyes stared into me like they had that last day in London, a hint of fear and awe there that tore at my chest with sharp, burrowing claws.
“So.” I swallowed hard. “You asked about my new team, how’s your old team? Is it nice having them back?”
He shrugged, letting go of my hands. “It makes some things easier, some things harder. Although, I think I got too used to the freedom. It might be best if we default to your hotel room. They don’t spy on me exactly, but everything I do tends to get back to my parents. Tina does her best, although there’s only so much she can do when half of them see her as an annoyance to be humoured.”
“Wait what?” Still astride him, I sat back to better see his expression. “Why do you put up with that?”
Another shrug. “I didn’t hire them. A team’s job is to make your game better not be your friends.” One of those things he said sometimes, the words flat like he was repeating them rote.
“Sure, but those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
He rolled his head away, the mood turning like a tide. He’d never been forthcoming about his team, just as he avoided most conversation about his family, and I should have known better. Should have stayed within the bounds of my role as friendly fuckbuddy. Fear of losing him, of losing this, clamped tight.
“Hey, so I have a question,” I said, to right the ship.
There was a hint of wariness in his gaze as he rolled his head back to look up at me. “Go ahead.”
“Why do you never use capital letters when you message me?”
