Page 74 of Fever Dream
My orgasm barrels through me until I’m shooting so violently I don’t remember who I am anymore, just an explosion of lust and overheated nerves and so, so much pleasure.
“Fuck, Casey,” Harrison curses above me, right before he unleashes so deep inside me I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
We both crest on the wave until he collapses on top of me, arms giving out on him as we both pant for air, sucking down the oxygen depleted from our lungs.
I have never felt so good in all my life as I do right now. I cross my ankles tighter, holding him in for the last few moments, not wanting to lose even a minute of this. Harrison stays there with me until we’re both breathing normally and his cock slips free of me.
“Put it back in,” I whine, not wanting to live anymore without him inside me.
Harrison buries his head in my neck and laughs, his body shaking against mine. “Oh Casey,” he chuffs. “I would if I had even the remotest chance of getting it hard again. I’d live inside you forever if I could.”
I let out a soft laugh, holding him tighter even though we’re no longer joined. I’m sticky and sweaty but I don’t want him to go. I want to push the rewind button and replay this moment over again and again and again. I laugh out loud as that realisation settles inside me, something I recognise all too well.
“H?” I say, waiting until he lifts his head to look at me, eyes back to their usual deep, chestnut brown but no less full of the emotions of the night. “You know how I told you about my addictive personality? Well, new addiction unlocked.”
He just grins at that, grins and laughs, dimple shining on his pretty face as he leans down to kiss me again. And I let him because I’ve recently discovered that there’s nothing better on this earth than being with someone like this, someone to hold and kiss and share my life and my feelings with. Someone to help quieten those voices in my head, to smooth me out and keep me grounded.
Yeah, I think this might be the best discovery in the existence of the whole entire universe.
CHAPTER 27
harrison
If Casey still had that old whiteboard from his teenage bedroom, the one where he wrote out all his plans and dreams and messages of inspiration, I am certain there would be a new number one goal on that list. And that goal would read ‘have as much sex with Harrison as humanly possible’.
And now don’t get me wrong, not even for one second. Because there is nothing on this great green planet like being inside Casey Calloway, a place where I have dreamed many a sexy dream about being. It’s the place where wildest dreams come to life, where heaven meets humanity, a land of milk and honey where rivers of living water flow.
But. I am a mere human boy, and Icannotkeep up with Casey Calloway.
He wants sex the minute we wake up again on Sunday morning, the dawn light grey and murky in the room we share. I am convinced he will be too sore for another round so soon, but he is just as adamant that he is fine, and as we have all well and truly discovered by now, I am incapable of denying this boy a thing.
So we have sex again and it is as magical and brilliant as it was last night, and I would do it again and again with him if I could. But I am exhausted. Yesterday was a rollercoaster of emotions, culminating in the best night of my entire existence in this very bedroom. And oh look, I really have succumbed to Casey’s flair for the dramatics, but that is not a single word of exaggeration.
He is pure heaven—pure heaven—and I am in a world of trouble.
We fall back asleep after we draw out another round of perfect orgasms from each other and I relish the feel of his warm, sweet body in my arms.
But Casey wants more sex when we wake up later that morning after a lazy and extremely rare sleep-in, but I am afraid that disappointment is on the cards for us because there’s no physical way I can give him what he wants again. He pouts but settles for a blowjob with me on my knees in the shower and I think we’re done for the day.
We’re not done for the day.
I distract him instead by coaxing him out with the promise of a late morning coffee followed by yoga and a massage at the club. Well, a coffee for him, nice green smoothie for me. I also admittedly want him back in the ice baths after yesterday’s heavy knock and I know Tim Masters will need to assess him for delayed concussion. I also know Casey will never admit to any form of physical weakness in about the next billion years, but we do need to take it easy and prioritise healing and relaxation today.
I don’t miss his wince when he eases into the ice bath, tiny black Speedos on for my viewing pleasure, but I have a sneaking suspicion that reaction is less related to his adductor issues as to a new kind of soreness he is likely feeling today. The sexy, slightly smug grin he shoots me suggests I am right on the money.
But there are lots of people around the club today, other players utilising the ice baths and the pool and gym facilities for recovery. And that reminds me that I need to reset those boundaries I all but obliterated with Casey during yesterday’s game. The way he’s looking at me right now suggests it will be a timely reminder.
But maybe I need more faith in him because he is all professional boundaries when I lay him out on the treatment bed afterwards—well, as professional as a guy with absolutely zero boundaries can be.
But it’s enough and I once again sigh a breath of relief that we can do this, we can beus, can carve out our own spaceand still exist in this professional environment together without it affecting our day jobs. Maybe that’s me being naïve because I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I know I can just sit back and enjoy the moment as a sense of relief and contentment filters through me.
***
Something softens between us after last night. I can’t say exactly what it is other than the fairly obvious suspicion that it’s due tofeelings. Feelings for each other that have always been there, bubbling under the surface in all our interactions with each other. They’re kind of lessunder the surfacetoday and slightly moresmack bang in the face.
I should be scared of what this means. But I can’t be. Nothing about Casey scares me away even though logically it should. He’s Casey Calloway and I’m me, here on an expiring work visa, and nothing about this should work. Other than the fact that it so clearly does.
We just click. Like two pieces of a puzzle.
