Page 141 of The Trade

“He said he’ll catch up with us later. He needed to have a word with his agent, I guess.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder, turning his attention to our company. “As for me, I think I need a quick detour to the restroom. I’m gonna have Jade walk with me if that’s cool?”

Cam playfully rolls his eyes, shooting us both a shit-eating grin. His mother, on the other hand, appears blissfully unaware. “Sure, honey, just don’t be gone too long,” she says, shaking her phone toward us. “I want to get some good pictures of all of us.”

“Of course, Mom.”

His fingers thread through mine, tugging me behind him as we bob and weave around the crowd. He guides me toward a private bathroom in the upper-level suites, single-minded and sure-footed. As soon as we’re shut inside together, his hands are glued to my hips.

“Sorry.” He ducks his head, murmuring the words against my neck. “I just needed a moment alone with you.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“That was incredible.” He shakes his head, damp hair tickling below my ears before he pulls back. “And you—fucking hell, you look so damn good in my jersey. Mica’s never gonna get to see you wearing his number again.”

“You know he’d kill both of us for that. I promised him I’d rotate.”

“Whatever.” His lips curve into a full-out grin. “I can’t even care about that right now. Just—I need to kiss you.”

He snakes a hand around the nape of my neck, tugging me closer as our lips meet.

“You did so great today,” I mumble against him. “When you made that final pass to Fischer, I almost lost my mind.”

“I know, right?” He moves to place soft kisses against my cheeks, my chin, my forehead. “That was fucking wild—my first touchdown pass in the League. I’m still so wired.”

“I bet you are. I know I am.” In fact, I doubt that I’ve ever felt more alive than I do in this moment. There’s nothing like watching the love of your life finally achieve his dreams. “I’m so proud of you, though.”

“Say that again,” he groans.

“I’m proud of you?”

“Yeah, that.” His head tilts back, a pleased smile on his face.

“Okay, well, I am.” I run my fingertips along his muscled arms, trailing up until I’m cupping the underside of his jaw. “Proud of you, that is. I also love you. So. Damn. Much.”

“I love you . . . and I need you.” His fingers slide up my neck, thumbs circling the soft spot under my ears. “Can I please fuck you?”

“Here?” I gasp his name, squirming as he shifts our hips together. “My brother, your mom, and your best friend are all out there waiting for us.”

His head dips as our lips brush. “I don’t see your point.”

“My point is—” Another gasp leaves me as his teeth nip at the shell of my ear. “—we can do this later. You know, when we head back to our apartment tonight.”

“Always so logical,” he grumbles.

“If I get on my knees, will that tide you over for a few hours?”

He pulls back, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I—you . . . Christ. Really?”

“Shh.” I press my index finger to his lips, trailing it down his chest as I drop to my knees. “Let me show you how proud I am of you. Just for a minute.”

My fingers make quick work on the fly of his pants, sliding inside to grasp the length of him. He’s painfully hard already. His cock sits heavy in the palm of my hand, warm and throbbing as I pump him over once. Twice. I pitch forward, lips primed to—

And then, there’s a pounding on the door, an unwelcome interruption to West’s game-winning prize.

“Get the fuck out here, you two!” The sound of Mica’s voice hits us like a cold bucket of water, dashing both our hopes for a little post-game fun.

“Shit,” West grumbles, hastily tucking himself back inside his pants, dick rapidly deflating at the thought of being caught by my brother.

“Give us a second,” I call back, voice dripping with irritation.

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