Page 187 of Off the Pitch

“Fuck yes. Fuck me,” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillow. “Fucking use my hole.” His words dissolved into moans again as I began to fuck him. I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer; I was already so on edge. Our mouths met in a messy kiss, and I groaned into his mouth, thrusting deep into him. We were nose to nose, breathing heavy and desperate, and with one final kiss, I came with a deep groan.

“See,” Jordan said, “it’s hard doing all the work.”

I said nothing because I couldn’t seem to find any words. Instead, I gently pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to him, my heart still pounding and my body floating on the high of my release. That had been the best sex I’d had… well, since I’d last hooked up with Jordan.

“Shit. What is it about your dick?” Jordan asked, his voice breathy and full of disbelief.

I grabbed a couple of tissues off the bedside table and wiped the cum off my stomach as best I could before wrapping up the condom to get rid of later.

“What about it?” I turned onto my side to face him, taking in his body and the sated smile on his face. He was undeniably gorgeous, almost more so now that he was relaxed and off guard.

“I just… I don’t normally do repeats. No offence,” he said, giving me an apologetic shrug. “I’m usually more of a club hookup kind of guy.”

“None taken. I’m the same. The first part that is.”

“But it’s like I can’t get enough of your fucking dick.” He shook his head and smiled. It lit up his face in the most extraordinary way, and a little shiver skittered across my skin. “I’m already thinking about another round,” he said, smirking. He shot me a wink. “Next time, I’m gonna suck your dick, and then you’re gonna pound me from behind.”

“Oh, am I?” I said, raising my eyebrows but unable to stop myself from grinning at him. Something about Jordan made me want to stay in bed all day and all night, giving him whatever he wanted. I wanted to keep him smiling… while simultaneously fucking the sass out of him until he couldn’t walk or make any more demands.

“Yeah.” Jordan rolled over to face me, leaning up on his elbow. His expression faltered for a second, like he was worried he’d overstepped. I supposed if he mostly hooked up with men in club bathrooms there was never a question of another round. “I mean, if you want? I can go if not.”

“No. Stay,” I said without even thinking about it. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory to me. I’d often invited men to stay for the night, fucking them until neither of us could stand and the sheets were a mess. I didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day, and I’d infinitely prefer Jordan’s company to my own.

I looked at my watch. We’d been here longer than I expected, and it was starting to push into early evening. “Would you like to get some room service? Then we can fuck again.” I reached out and pulled him into a hungry kiss. “I can’t wait to get that pretty mouth of yours on my dick.”

“You’ve gotta feed me first though. I’m fucking starving.” Jordan pulled away and swung his legs off the bed. I allowed my eyes to rake over his naked body. Fuck, he was gorgeous and so much fun in bed. I was going to be in London for a couple of weeks wrapping up a few business meetings with one of the companies I was on the board for. Having a regular fuck buddy was always a good thing… and I was willing to break my own rules for once and ignore the fact he was a footballer.

After all, Jordan was sexy as hell. And he wasn’t exactly looking for anything serious either. It was an arrangement that could easily benefit both of us. All I had to do was ask the question.

“Have you seen this menu?” Jordan asked, holding up the folded room service menu like it might bite him. “I mean, I know I’m rich too, man, but rich people are fucking crazy.”

I knew what he meant. I hadn’t exactly grown up in the best circumstances, and the transition from that to the super-rich world of professional football had been eye-opening. Lucas was the only reason I hadn’t blown my first signing bonus on supercars and sexy boys. “Nothing you like?” I asked.

“Nah, it looks great. But fifty quid for steak and chips? Better be the best fucking steak in the world!” He chucked the menu on the bed, then climbed up beside me and sat cross legged, giving me a perfect view of his dick. “I’ll have a steak salad, please.”

“No chips?”

“No.” He looked almost forlorn and sighed. “Gotta eat healthily. We’re playing Liverpool at the weekend, and they’ll kick my ass if I’m not careful.”

“You won’t steal mine?” I asked teasingly. That was one thing I definitely didn’t miss about being a sportsman. I still kept in shape, but at least I didn’t have to watch everything I put in my mouth.

“No way! I’m not Liam,” Jordan said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s my best mate,” he continued, clearly noticing my confusion.

“Is this the same best friend who was getting married the first time we fucked?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Yeah. He doesn’t know though.” He shrugged. I wasn’t going to push it. It wasn’t any of my business who Jordan told about his sexuality. “Anyway,” Jordan continued. “Liam’s always likenah, I don’t want chipsand without fail, every fucking time, he steals mine. Cheeky bastard!”

I laughed at the look of indignation on his face before picking up the menu. Jordan was right; the prices were insane. That was my fault for choosing to stay in one of London’s nicest hotels. They could get away with charging through the nose. Besides, it wasn’t as if I wanted to get dressed and leave. I grabbed the phone off the bedside table and rang room service to place our order.

“It’ll be about thirty minutes,” I said, placing the handset down. Jordan unfolded himself from beside me, leaning down to pull my nipple between his teeth. I groaned. Jordan slid his mouth lower, sucking my soft cock into his mouth, and I gasped as he flicked his tongue over my slit, his fingers caressing my balls.

I really hoped room service wasn’t going to be early.

The food was excellent, as I’d expected, although I might have surprised the poor boy delivering our order by answering the door in just my jeans and an unbuttoned shirt.

I was almost anticipating a call from reception about sexually harassing the staff. They’d probably seen worse though. Not that it made it any better.

Jordan had hidden in the bathroom because he said he couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. I didn’t mind. His confidence in his body was a wonderful thing, and I wasn’t going to say no to watching him walk about nude. Even if it did give me a semi-permanent hard-on.

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