Page 59 of Until He Scores

I couldn’t look away. His gaze met mine as he went back to my dick, taking me in a single stroke. He swallowed around me, and I hissed a curse, holding him still as I fucked his mouth, hoping I wasn’t being too forceful with him. The second he whimpered and shoved his hand into his sweats to pull his cock out, I lost it.

My pace faltered. Shit. I was coming. Indecision warred within me. He gave me permission to use his mouth as I pleased, but I also didn’t want to be too presumptive either. We hadn’t even talked about going farther. I’d been seconds from voicing my concern when his middle finger breached my ass, and my orgasm slammed through me, taking away my ability to think let alone speak.

I shook through my release, grunting and making these small noises at the back of my throat that would embarrass me later when I replayed the moment. I didn’t care though. The reedy high-pitched sounds he made, had my dick twitching and hardening again as he pulled off me and licked his lips. His pace quickened. The muscles of his stomach flexed and between one stroke to the next he was coming. He let loose with a cry of completion that sent a thrill down my spine.

If I thought the morning after Thierry’s drunken argument with me was hot, this knocked that moment out of the park. His flushed chest heaved for oxygen as his wild gaze found mine and a smile pulled at his mouth. I kissed him then, uncaring if I tasted my cum on his lips. Heat scorched me. I wanted more from him, and I didn’t care how I got it. This definitely wasn’t a one-time fluke.

I had to have him again.

Chapter 21

Pope

Seven months later...

Thierry’s alarm went off way too early. Last night’s celebration with the team atFlamewent longer than expected and with way more fucking booze than expected. I groaned, the pounding headache, left my vision blurry, but my dick was onboard for a morning wake up call. Thierry’s hand snaked out from the covers where he’d been hiding to turn off the incessant noise, throwing us back into the blissful quiet we’d enjoyed.

Today was the final prep before their pre-season opening game for the newMountaineerseason. All that worry about losing his job and stress over the concern someone on the team would think he lied about the condition of his knee never came to fruition. If anything, theThunderbirdsalong with Thierry and theMountaineerswent in on a lawsuit against the orthopedic team who, it appeared, after an investigation, had a long practice of negligence.

It wasn’t just Thierry they fucked over.

There were players as far back as the nineties who’d undergone botched procedures only to be readmitted by other orthopedic surgeons, sometimes months and years later,repeating the same procedures or, in Thierry’s case, replacing joints. Dr. Jay lent his expertise to the cause, bringing his practice and Vanderbilt Hospital to the forefront of orthopedic medicine in sports.

To say I was proud of Thierry and his commitment to the cause and to be the face of the fight was an understatement. For so long, he’d been the star. Now he was an advocate for the sport he loved and for a cause close to his heart.

Sports injuries and the treatment of players.

However, his first lovenowwas being behind the bench, coaching his defenders to a championship. Something they’d almost accomplished last year. If he hadn’t been sidelined as he was, I believe the team would’ve won, hands down.

“Why are you thinking so loud?” he muttered, his voice roughened by sleep.

“Can’t help it,” I replied, tugging him back into my chest.

He sighed, snuggling down into my embrace.

As for us, I didn’t have the words to explain our life. There were still things I was getting used to. Like being in public together and people recognizing Thierry. Not that they wouldn’t, but it was the fact they acknowledged me, too. His super fans, the ones he gained through his pop star friend... They called us Popthery. It was kind of catchy, but totally weird. We even went to one of her concerts, where we sat with her fiancé. Now that... That was wild. I’d never experienced anything so... Explosive. Every second of the concert gave me chills.

“Good morning,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” he murmured, pressing back against me.

I ran my hand down his stomach to the band on his boxer-briefs, teasing my fingertips along the hem while also bumping occasionally against his cock. “That seems painful.”

“Cheesy,” he muttered with a small chuckle.

“You like it though,” I replied, slipping my hand into his underwear. I fisted him, jerking his dick. “I want to do it this morning.”

Since that first morning in bed, after his hospital stay, we’d taken our relationship slowly, building up to this moment. Thierry never pushed me, even when I wished he would have. He was a firm believer of consent and taking our time together. I appreciated his thoughtfulness however, I wanted him. Had wanted him the whole time. This morning, however, the need burning in my gut was different than before.

“You’re sure?” he said, glancing back at me with those soulful gray eyes of his.

“Yes.”

He eased away from me momentarily to grab the lube and a condom. When he returned, he kissed me. The passion and frenzy snapped across my senses then settled into a longing. My chest constricted. Everything inside of me tensed with expectancy. This moment solidified years of longing. Of regrets. Of missing someone so much, it meant going through the motions and never fully embracing life or what was meant for each of us. There was tons of guilt on my part in the beginning. Thierry called it miscommunication. I called it being stuck in my head and in my feelings. Also regret. I missed so much time with him. So much could have been fixed if I’d talked to my best friend.

“Ready?” I asked, squirting some of the lube onto my fingers. Prepping was key.

Thierry nodded. “Hurry up.”

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