Page 31 of Game Winner
“Same.” With his hand in my hair, Tyler directs my mouth to meet his waiting lips. In contrast to Soren’s cedar and pine, Tyler’s scent is fresh ocean air. My sweet and shy man. He’s so handsome, striking enough to be a model. He gazes at me like he’s cataloging every feature and freckle. His lips part for me, and we welcome the distraction of Soren’s hands caressing patterns over our torsos.
Tyler’s hand flexes on my stomach, and his groan deepens as Soren’s exploration drops lower.
His blue eyes burning with banked fire, Soren bends his head and kisses my neck.
I want to crack a joke about the goalie being good at multi-tasking, but we’re all sort of doing that, and so I settle for not saying anything and just kissing the hell out of Tyler and enjoying Soren’s attention and moans.
When we raise our heads, Tyler twists toward Soren. His gaze soft, Soren sweeps his hands into Tyler’s hair and slowly closes the inches separating them. Their kiss is layered with the tenderness from their years of friendship, and makes me ache.
I do my own exploration of bodies honed from hours spent on the ice and in the weight room, the defined muscles of their torsos, strong shoulders, biceps that flex under my touch, and backs worthy of being depicted in marble statues.
Soren clutches my arm, drawing me against his chest. I claim his lips, eager to see if he tastes of Tyler, my favorite combination of flavors.
Tyler runs his hand along my chest and stomach. Then he tugs my shirt higher, skating his fingers over bare skin.
I shiver and smile, then yank the shirt over my head.
Want and need tick together like a bomb waiting to explode.
Soren steps behind me and slides his hands along my chest and abs, bumping into Tyler’s wandering journey. Kissing the side of my neck, he murmurs how good I feel in his arms.
As I kiss Tyler, I work my way down his shirt, freeing each button from its hole. But Soren grinding his cock into my ass distracts me from my task.
Finally, I finish and he shucks it off.
Soren presses me into Tyler, leaning over my shoulder to kiss his teammate.
Grinding my ass against Soren’s cock, I work open Tyler’s jeans, reveling in his intake of breath. Hot and hard, he pushes into my hand.
Coolness rushes over my back as Soren shifts his position, coming to stand beside me. His hands meet mine over Tyler’s bulge. “I want to suck you, Ty. I’ve wanted this for years.”
An emotion deeper than lust flickers across his face like candle light. Tyler cups Soren’s cheek with a trembling smile. “Fuck, yeah. I want that.”
I feel like I’m witnessing a moment that’s long been building between these two. And for a moment, hesitation wins out, and I wonder where I fit in.
Tyler turns to me, sliding his hand along my shoulder. “And I want it with you, too.”
“I want anything. Everything.” The words rasp past my lips, desperate and honest.
He nods, eager. “Yes, everything.”
Soren drops to his knees. He works Tyler’s pants and boxers down his legs and tosses them aside. I watch him kiss a path over Ty’s chest and stomach. And then Tyler takes my hand and guides it to the base of his cock.
I enclose him in my fist, holding him for Soren, watching the way his eyes mist with desire. With one hand braced on Tyler’s thigh, Soren lays his other hand on mine, connecting us as he takes Tyler into his mouth.
Tyler bucks his hips and his head lands on my shoulder. “Damn, Soren.”
Kissing Tyler, I pop the button on my jeans and he takes over lowering the zipper. I shove my jeans and boxers down, freeing my cock for his touch.
His clever fingers drive me to distraction until the attention Soren is laving on his cock overwhelms him. On a gasp, he pulls back, stroking his hands through Soren’s hair. “I’m too close.”
As soon as Soren stands, Tyler grabs hold of his shoulders and tugs him in, kissing the Swede with such passion, I ache.
When they turn to me with glittering gazes, I angle my head toward the hall. “My bedroom’s this way.”
Soren catches my hand before I can move. “You might want to finish undressing first. Don’t want you tripping and injuring anything important.” His gaze drops to my cock.
Huffing a laugh at the fact that I was so turned on, I forgot my jeans and boxers were hanging halfway down my thighs, I push at my clothes. “You should lose yours too. You’re wearing way too many.”
