Page 30 of Breakaway Goals
It was probably the most basic handjob he’d ever gotten, but it didn’t matter.
A minute later, with Morgan’s mouth eager and hungry against his own, he came his brains out.
“Shit,” Hayes sighed happily. He wanted to lean in, his knees wobbly post-orgasm, and rest his head on Morgan’s shoulder, but he wasn’t sure what the deal was. Was the touching over the moment they’d both come?
Had Morgan gotten what he’d wanted from him and cuddling wasn’t part of it?
That seemed likely, as Hayes had never pegged Morgan as a cuddler.
Of course he’d never imagined that Morgan might give him an orgasm either, so maybe they were just in uncharted territory.
“I . . .uh . . .we should clean up,” Morgan said, and he didn’t look uneasy, not even remotely, but there was an understandable awkwardness.
There always was.
“Yeah,” Hayes said, nodding, and deciding to hell with it, pushed his pants and boxers off the rest of the way and headed towards the bathroom.
He grabbed a wet washcloth and was back a second later.
Most of his orgasm had ended up on Morgan’s hand but there were a few drops of come on his chest and his thighs.
It was definitely not a hardship to clean those up. To linger at how fucking gorgeous Morgan was, now that Hayes was letting himself look. Sure, he could’ve done it in the locker room, but he’d never let himself before. Not with Morgan, not with any other guy.
Morgan watched as Hayes cleaned him, not saying a single word.
Hayes sort of got it; what even was there to say? It was wild this had happened at all, and there was an inherent messiness inhere that Morgan wouldn’t like. Hayes wasn’t even sure he liked it. He’d never hooked up with another hockey player before. He’d gone out of his wayneverto hook up with another hockey player.
And now he’d not only done it, but he’d done it with one of the most high profile guys in the sport. The guy whose footsteps everyone expected him to follow in. The one who he was playing with for the next eight days.
No big deal.
It was okay if Morgan was freaking out about this, becauseHayeswas kind of freaking out about this, and he’d known he was gay for a really long time.
“Are you—” Hayes cut himself off. Suddenly unsure he’d started that the right way. “You’re okay, yeah?”
Morgan nodded. “Uh. Yeah. I’m good.” A small smile emerged. “Really good. This was good.”
“You got any other adjectives, or are you sticking with ‘good’ for the time being?” Hayes teased.
Morgan flushed red. “No. Good is . . .um . . .good.” He made a self-deprecating noise. “You kind of sucked my brain out with my dick.”
“Noted,” Hayes said, unable to help his own smile now as he pulled his briefs and sweats back on.
Morgan stood and re-assembled his clothing as Hayes flopped down on the edge of the other bed.
“Finland tomorrow,” Hayes said, deciding that the best course of action was to move onto a different subject, and hockey was always safe.
“Yeah.” But once he was dressed, Morgan still seemed like he was lingering, eyes glued to where Hayes sat on the other bed. Hesitating like he wanted to go over to him.
Maybe he didn’t want to just fuck and run? Hayes gave him some credit for that. Post-nut clarity was a real thing, and he wouldn’t blame Morgan for freaking out.
“We feel pretty ready,” Hayes said, sticking to hockey because that was safer than suggesting Morgan come over here and kiss him again.
Morgan shot him an incredulous look. “Webarelyescaped against Sweden.”
“One goal or three, doesn’t matter, just that we won,” Hayes reminded him.
Morgan began to pace in between the two beds, and Hayes regretted bringing up Finland, because a second ago Morgan had been relaxed, and now he wasn’t.
