Page 17 of Unrivaled

IF ANYONEasked, Grady would blame his appalling lack of judgment on a head injury.

Or, shit, was that the same excuse he’d decided to use the first time? Did he need another one? Maybe he was so crushed after losing two games in a row, the second one to Canada of all teams—

No. That lie was even more embarrassing than the truth. He’d just have to make sure no one found out.

In the minutes after he sent the first message, he glanced around at his hotel room and wondered if he should clean up. The room-service tray was still sitting on his desk, there was a pile of folded clothes on top of his suitcase, and he’d left his toiletries on the bathroom counter.

But who was he trying to impress? Max was the one who’d suggested the bet in the first place.

“I’m overthinking this,” he muttered.

As if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

Grady opened it without comment. The less time Max spent standing in the hallway where someone could see him, the better.

Fortunately he didn’t seem to be in the mood to linger. He swanned into the room like he owned the place, but it wasn’t like he’d dressed up for the occasion. He was wearing his Team Canada shirt and track pants. Grady didn’t know how to feel about that. He wasalsowearing his team-branded athletic gear, but like, did Max think Grady was so easy that he didn’t have to put any effort in?

Why did Grady care? He was here to get his dick sucked.

“Nice digs,” Max commented. He had a smear of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth, so he’d put in some effort. Maybe. Grady didn’t know if that made him feel better.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s probably exactly the same as your room.”

Max’s smile went sharp. “Nah. This one has you in it.”

Jesus. “You actually manage to get laid with lines like that?” Not to mention the heavy sarcasm in the delivery.

The once-over Max gave him lingered on Grady’s crotch. Grady felt his ears heat up. It was the anticipation that had him half-hard, nothing more. He’d been promised an orgasm. The reaction was natural. “Was kinda under the impression that you’re a sure thing.”

Grady must hate himself. That was the only explanation. “Like I’d turn down a blow job.”

“Wedohave something in common.” Max helped himself to a seat on Grady’s bed. “But who says you’re going first?”

Uneasy, Grady took a step back. He didn’t want to be the first to get on his knees here. Not with Max, who was as much of a competitive asshole as Grady, if not more so. And there was no way in hell Max was leaving here thinking Grady was worse at blow jobs than he was. Which meant Grady wanted to go last.

“I’m the one who lost our last game,” Grady said. “How did you put it? Are you really gonna trust me with my teeth around your dick right now?”

Apparently it was Max’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m definitely not going to return the favor if you bite my dick off, so I think I’m safe.” He was very confident in Grady’s desire to put his dick in his mouth. Unfortunately that confidence was well-founded for reasons Grady didn’t want to examine. “But we can sixty-nine if you think that’s more democratic.”

It was a reasonable solution, and Grady hated it. “I wouldn’t want you to get distracted.” Even worse if Grady got distracted and gave Max ammunition to make fun of him.

Max snorted and beckoned him closer, and Grady obeyed without thinking about it. “Relax. I literally engineered this situation so I could get your dick in my mouth. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He slid his fingers into the waistband of Grady’s pants, and Grady sucked in a breath. “It’s foreplay.”

“It is not.” Grady was proud of how level his voice was.

Max looked up and quirked a knowing eyebrow. “No?” He pressed his hand over Grady’s erection. “Seems effective to me.”

Grady didn’t have a rebuttal. There was no way he could make words make sense when Max’s face was that close to his cock. When the slight pressure of his palm had Grady’s blood up and his dick leaking.

“Thought so,” Max said, the smug set of his mouth turned up to insufferable.

The skin over Grady’s spine prickled with exasperation. “Shut up.”

Max batted his eyelashes. “Yeah? You gonna make me?” The backs of his fingers teased the sensitive skin of Grady’s abs.

Grady knew a challenge when he heard one. He knew the tone of Max’s voice too—it was the same one he used on the ice when he was goading Grady into taking a penalty. He wanted Grady to give in.

And Grady was frozen to the spot.

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