Page 16 of Game Winner
“Good to know.” Tyler eyes hood as he tips his head to give Soren better access.
“I don’t either.” My mouth waters, and I lick my lips. If I were there with them, I’d be on Ty’s open side, slotting us all closer together.
Soren ends his exploration of Tyler’s neck with a smacking kiss. “You going out tonight with the guys?”
“We’re all getting a drink as soon as I head upstairs. We got some good news today. The singer of a band we respect the hell out of contacted us today, saying that he liked our sound.”
“What band?” Curiosity infuses Soren’s tone.
“The Fury.”
He gapes at the screen. “No way, you know Luke Thompson?”
I can’t fight my grin at his fan-boying. In a million years, I never would have considered that a hockey player could be adorable. “Not personally. He’s also the head of Furious Records. We sent in a demo a while ago. He said he’ll be at Winter Fest and is looking forward to meeting us there. So this feels like a big deal.”
Tyler sits forward, his gorgeous face beaming, and a tenderness settles in my chest. “That’s awesome.”
“Itisa bid deal.” Soren’s smile mirrors Tyler’s, making me feel like I just told them we were playing at Madison Square Garden, not that Luke Thompson listened to our demo. “I wish we were there to celebrate with you.”
“We’ll do that on Monday night.” Tyler jerks his head in a firm nod, leaving no room for debate. Not that I would argue about spending time with them. “And we’ll be at Winter Fest. We don’t have a game that day. The housemates already had tickets, and I bought mine this morning.”
Millions of tiny bubbles spread through my chest. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to kiss him—them—right now. “I’ll see if I can get backstage passes for you.”
A low buzz sounds in the background of the hotel room. Soren glances at his phone, charging on the bedside table. “Pizza’s here. They left it at the front desk.”
“I’ll let you go. The guys are waiting. I’m surprised Layne hasn’t come back down to check on what’s keeping me.” Though curling up with my phone to keep talking to them is far more enticing.
Sure enough, a message from Layne pops up.
Layne: Got tix for Satyr’s Kiss for all of us. When you’re finished with your boys, get up here.
Saying goodbye to an image on a screen isn’t as satisfying as holding the guys in my arms and kissing them, but the promise of seeing them in two days is a good consolation.
“We’ll see you on Monday.” Tyler touches his fingers to his lips, then lifts them to the screen. The sweetness of the gesture only deepens when he blushes and ducks his head.
Soren and I share a smile at Ty’s reaction. And I take a chance. “Soren, will you kiss Ty back for me?”
Tyler whips his head up, his cheeks nearly scarlet, and the screen jumps with his movements.
“Of course.” His voice raspy, Soren cups Ty’s jaw and gently turns his head. When their lips meet, want closes like a fist around my cock. They both moan as the kiss deepens. I lick my lips, gripping my phone, greedily sucking up every second.
They look so sweet and so right together, and I love feeling like I’m a part of this kiss, even by proxy. When they part, my words are out before my brain catches up with my mouth. “Now, Ty, kiss Soren for me.”
His smile shy, Ty slides his free hand up Soren’s chest. He teases his lips over Soren’s, slow and light, a whispering touchthat seduces and destroys. And Soren fists the front of Ty’s shirt, keeping him close.
“Oh, damn, that’s nice.” I touch my fingers to my lips, tracing the path of Tyler’s over Soren’s.
After a long moment, they part and both look at me, their gazes glittering with desire. Soren releases a shaky breath. “It would be nicer if you were here with us, Bax.”
“Yeah.” Tyler rests his head on Soren’s shoulder, snuggling deeper into his side. “It’s good having you on the phone, but I want you here. Both of you.” He leans up to kiss Soren’s jaw. “All of us together.”
All of us together. I like the way that sounds. And more importantly, I like the way it makes me feel. Whether this stays casual or turns serious, I want something with these men. More than inspiring a song in me, they’ve sparked something vital, directly tied to them. And I don’t know how I’ve lived without it until now.
CHAPTER FIVE
SOREN
The hard and heavy beat of the frenetic song races around me as I move from high cobra to lizard pose. Afternoon sunlight streams through the windows high on the wall of my basement apartment, casting spotlights on the framed photos of the Minnesota wilderness hanging above my couch.
