Page 45 of Callous Shot

“Before we get back to the fun part, I wanna check something. You know I get bashed up a lot in hockey, right? And I fight. For fun. I’m bruised a lot of the time, and some of the time, it’s thanks to you. You’re bruised a lot of the time. Your teammates are too. Why is this such an issue for you now?”

“It’s different,” he muttered from behind my palm. “I’m not used to seeing the evidence on you.” When I lifted my hand away, I noticed his cheeks were red, and it made me feel all weirdly flustered.

I cleared my throat. “Um, okay. Is this gonna be a problem?”

“Shut the fuck up, Arson,” he ground out, and then he kissed me again. I bristled at his casual use of the nickname that only my friends used, but the way he said it also made me feel bubbles inside, like champagne was fizzing in my belly.

My body was seriously confused. Oh, except for my dick, which was hard and ready, insistently prodding at Lincoln’s thigh. Fuck it for having the actual worst taste ever.

A moan escaped me as he tugged my lower lip between his teeth and then released it, sliding his tongue all around the bitten area. Fuuuck. His mouth curved against mine, and then he dipped his head lower, biting at my throat.

“No, not again,” I panted, palming his ass as I dragged him closer, letting him rub his hard shaft up against my thigh.

“Yes.” The asshole yanked my head to the side, biting and sucking my neck, making a complete mess of my pristine skin. My dick throbbed, precum dampening my underwear, and I pressed harder into him, needing some friction against my aching erection. The second he raised his head, I was on him, twisting us around and slamming him up against the wall. Something else crashed to the floor behind me, but I gave zero fucks. All I cared about was getting my mouth on Lincoln, to mark him up again so everyone knew he was fucking mine. Mine to fuck up. Mine to destroy.

I went at him with my mouth, his groans and pants spurring me on as I made a mess of his neck, covering him with reminders of me. His hands were all over me, rough and aggressive, and I fucking loved it. Fighting and fucking had never been a combination I’d experienced at the same time, but fuck me sideways. This was everything.

It made me resent him even more.

“Good luck explaining that to your teammates,” I snarled, biting at his jaw.

He ducked his head, scraping his teeth over my throat in retribution. “You’re gonna regret doing that.”

“Fucking hypocrite. I hate you, you big-dicked bastard.”

There was a sudden pause when my words registered for both of us, and I immediately regretted all my life choices that had led me to this point.

Our eyes met, and I could clearly see the amusement sparkling in between all that heat he was directing at me. “Big-dicked bastard. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Speaking of my dick⁠—”

“We’re not fucking speaking of it.” I went for his mouth again, but he turned his head.

“No. You need to learn that you can’t just say things with no consequences.”

I eyed him warily. I had an inkling of where he was heading… More than an inkling. More like I was fully on board this incoming train wreck heading for its inevitable conclusion with no way to stop it. “What things?”

“You said no one was as good as you with their mouth. Prove it.”

“Fuck you, Bellingham.”

His eyes met mine again. “You’re not getting out of it that easily. Get on your knees and suck my dick, Hoyton.”

21

LINCOLN

Daniel glared at me resentfully, but he didn’t seem surprised. Then again, it didn’t take a genius to work out what was going to happen tonight.

The question was… For all my talk, was I actually going to let him do it? Could I go through with it? Could I let the person I loathed the most in the world suck my dick?

My erection was on board, but my brain wasn’t quite there. Not until…

Daniel dragged his tongue across his lips, leaving them swollen and glistening.

My cock jerked in my shorts.

“Get on your fucking knees,” I commanded in a low rasp, and the hate in his gaze intensified.

“Fucking make me.”