Page 29 of Heated Rivalry 1
Hollander’s brow furrowed. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“So...after the game you just want me to wait at home for you?” Hollander’s voice was tight, like he was angry about something.
Ilya rolled his eyes. He had no idea why they were wasting time talking right now anyway. “Yes! Wait for me. I will come to your house and fuck you.”
Hollander looked embarrassed again. “It’s an apartment,” he mumbled.
“Jesus! Fine! I will fuck you in your apartment. Can we get back to things now?”
“Yes.” Hollander frowned. “But...”
“But?”
“In the shower. The water will drown out...anything.”
Rozanov huffed, but itwasactually a good idea.
“Yes,” he said, springing off the bed and onto his feet, “but hurry the fuck up.”
Hollander shoved him as he walked by, leading the way to the bathroom. He turned the water on, and as they waited for it to get hot, Ilya kissed him against the closed door until Hollander shoved him away so he could pull Ilya into the shower. Heslammed Ilya against the tile and wrapped a hand around his cock as he kissed him. Ilya grinned against his mouth. This was the Shane Hollander he wanted: competitive, aggressive.
“Your hands are so soft,” Ilya said. “Like a girl’s.”
“Fuck you.”
Ilya laughed. Hollander jerked him harder, as if trying to prove how strong and masculine his hands were.
Ilya bit his own lip and gave up teasing his rival. For now. He reached for Hollander and they brought each other off frantically and roughly in the shower, letting the rush of water muffle their English and Russian profanity.
Hollander got dressed quickly when they were done. Ilya stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, waiting to hear what Hollander would say.
“Um...”
Ilya didn’t say anything back. He waited.
“I know we said...about Montreal...but...”
Ilya crossed his arms and leaned against a wall.
“We probably shouldn’t,” Hollander finished.
“No?”
“No. I mean...obviously, right?”
Ilya watched Hollander run a nervous hand through his damp hair.
“It’s stupid,” Hollander said, more to himself than to Ilya. “This is stupid. I don’t know why we did this. Again.”
Ilya walked slowly toward him. When he reached him, he put a hand on the side of his face and tilted his head until he could look directly in his eyes. “Give me your phone.”
“My phone?” Hollander asked weakly.
“Yes.”
Hollander fumbled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Ilya. Ilya took it and entered his number into Hollander’scontacts, under the name Lily. Hollander snorted when he saw it.
