Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I take a few more seconds to catalog my feelings. Nerves? Check. Certainty? Check. I’m calm enough.
“I’m ready,” I say to Carter.
My buddy cups his hands to his mouth in a makeshift megaphone. “Listen up, men. We got news.”
The floor is mine, and I take it, talking to the guys like I would if I were changing a play in the huddle. All business—no bullshit. “I’m dating Jason McKay. I have been all season. We’re together for real. Any questions?”
Stunned silence spreads to every corner of the locker room. For two, three, four seconds. Then, Hayden shifts his weight. “Let me see if I got this right. You took us to a thirteen-three record and pulled off a secret affair?”
“Yes,” I say, braced for wherever he’s going.
“Damn,” he says in admiration as he reaches for his practice jersey in his stall.
Isaiah finishes tying up his uniform pants. “I want that kind of magic. I can barely balance dating and playing. This lady I was seeing wanted me to come over on a Thursday night last month, and I conked out after practice. Woke up the next morning to a mean message from her about my no-show ass.”
I chuckle at their stories, light-headed with relief at how simple that was after I’d prepped for the worst. I just hope Jason has it this easy in his locker room.
“More power to you, bro,” Miles, the center, says, then fist bumps me. “Just keep racking up those W’s, and we’re all good.”
I never thought they would take the news this well. But then, my team has taken everything well. They were chill after the losses. They were happy after the wins. They’re good guys, plain and simple.
We finish gearing up, and I trot out to the field to practice for a game.
That evening, I park on the street at Jason’s house. I walk through the small front yard. I head up the steps and ring the bell.
It’s a brand-new day.
When Jason swings open the door, he shoots me a curious look. “You do have the garage code and app.”
I shut him up with a kiss.
He sighs happily as I kiss him on the front porch, in public, unashamed.
My boyfriend wraps his arms around my waist, hauls me closer, and kisses me like I’m what he’s needed most all day. I can feel it in his touch, in the possessive way he brushes his lips to mine, then digs his fingers into my back.
He needs me.
I need him.
We are so right for each other.
We kiss for another minute on his porch.
He’s wanted this kiss for so long. In the light, out on the street, for anyone to see. He is a social guy. He is a public figure. He relishes that.
I’m not that way, but I can give him these moments.
When he breaks the kiss, he jerks his gaze to his home. “We better take this inside.”
Ten minutes later, we’re side to side, panting and fucking each other’s faces.
I draw him deeper, squeezing his ass as I work his dick over with my lips and tongue. He’s giving me the same treatment, going to town on my cock, like he’s missed my dick fiercely.
Know the feeling, Jason.
I’ve missed him so much. I’ve missed everything about him. The guttural groans he makes as he sucks me. The tremble of his thighs as he gets closer to the edge.
Most of all, this incredible intimacy. This trust. This bed full of sex and love and fire.
When his cock pulses in my throat, he lets my dick fall from his lips. He comes first, with a loud and glorious grunt that makes my cells sizzle.
My orgasm is so blazingly near. I can feel it building strength in my spine.
Jason scrambles to his knees, pushes me down on my back, and slides between my legs to finish the job he started. I come hard as the bliss of being with him again washes over me.
He pops off and lies next to me with a satisfied sigh. I exhale too.
He runs a finger down my sky and mountains. “You still like my Alaskan King?”
“I love it. Especially when I can finally make you come first.”
Jason laughs, then drops a kiss to the ink on my arm. “Feel free to keep making up for that first time for all time.”
That sounds good to me. “I will.”
Later, after we’ve dressed and moved to his kitchen, debating whether to order or make dinner, Jason’s phone pings with a text.
He grabs it from the counter, reads it, then grimaces. “It’s Xavier. He wants to stop by.”
“You don’t want him to?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I just want to be with you,” he says, but I can understand his hesitation since he’s told me what went down today.
“Same, but maybe you should hear him out?” I suggest.