Page 39 of Tempting the Teammate
He moved like lightning. Like it was all he could do not to burst. Like there was nothing else he could possibly need.
Griffin’s mouth crushed against mine, and he kissed me deeply and slowly, lips parting and tongue venturing into my mouth with a slow and exploratory pace that made me want to scream and claw and rip his clothes to pieces.
Maybe there had been more rules to discuss. Maybe there had been more doubts to soothe. Maybe there had been a thing or two to ask or admit, but it didn’t matter. Not right now.
Because he was finally kissing me.
I leaned back, sliding onto the piled up pillows, and Griffin followed.
He was bigger and bulkier than me, but I welcomed the weight and the pressure. I wanted him to smother me under his body. I wanted to suffocate gloriously in all his muscles and strength. I wanted to lose myself in him like I had never managed with all the other guys. And like he apparently never managed with all his girls.
And as he kissed me deeper, his body grinding against mine, I wrapped my arms around him and allowed myself to believe that this was what we had both been waiting for. Maybe, just maybe, we had found our way to one another.
FIFTEEN
Griffin
The morningof the following day was rough. For one thing, it was difficult to wake up because we had barely slept. I wish I could say we’d spent the hours talking, making sure we were on the same page, or planning what to do next. But no. We’d spent the hours kissing, touching, caressing one another in ways and places that had been unimaginable just a few hours into the past.
Our kisses turned into a cuddle, which was deeply frustrating on a very basic level because I had wrapped myself around Andrei like a big spoon, my chest pressed against his shoulder blades, my stomach molded against his lower back, and my persistently semi-hard dick settling right against his ass.
The first moment when the awareness of this fact set in, I expected a wave of fear. I knew that I had, in the past, found myself deep into a hookup when this sudden panic made my heart hammer, when every instinct told me I was making a mistake, when every move I made felt forced and practiced. But not last night.
I braced myself for it, but it never came.
Instead, Andrei let me hold him like he was all mine. And when I got hard, he chuckled, pushed his ass against me, thenslapped my hand when it traveled a little too low. “You’re hopeless,” he’d muttered, but his voice was so soft with heat and desire that I knew he was no better.
When my fingertips moved along his arm, feeling the knots of his muscles even through the thick fabric of his hoodie, he let me. When my palm settled on his stomach, he exhaled quietly, as if trying not to moan. And when he turned around and I kissed him again, there was no mistaking the steep rise of his sweatpants. He was hot for me, no doubt about it, and seeing it didn’t make me sweat with fear and panic. It made me glad.
So when we woke up, each in his own bed after Andrei admitted he couldn’t trust either of us, he was the first thing I saw. On the far side of the room—which wasn’t that far at all—one bare leg hung off the side of the bed, the comforter pushed slightly aside, covering only half of his body. His white underwear had rolled up in his sleep, revealing a fading tan line, and the small of his back was deep and narrow, his back spreading into the triangular shape the fan fiction writers had pointed out to me. His shoulders were broad, rounded on the sides, extending into long, fine muscles that made me just a little more horny than I’d have expected.
I didn’t think about it. I reached for the camera on his desk, the vintage thirty-five-millimeter one, and brought it to my face. I peeked through the camera and turned the wheels until I figured out which one zoomed in and which one sharpened the image. I knew fuck all about framing, composition, and the more technical side of things, but I had seen Andrei use this camera a million times, and I knew the click of the button, so I did it, capturing something that we would discover someday.
The heap of cuteness stirred in his bed at the sound of the shutter opening and closing. A short buzz of the film moving followed. Andrei’s head turned around, and he blinked awake,a curious smile touching the corners of his lips. “What are you doing?”
“Making smut,” I said.
He snorted and rolled his eyes the way he would have at any other time, and it soothed my heart to see my friend in him.
“Give,” he said, sitting up. His bare feet planted on the carpet with the inexplicable paint stains, and his arm stretched out, hand open to take the camera.
“You can’t see it,” I said. “I don’t know where that little display is.”
He shot me a look that said, “Don’t make lame jokes until I’ve had my coffee,” and took the camera. “Stay like that,” he said.
The light filtered through the curtains like beams of molten gold this morning, and my gaze dragged down Andrei’s body, finding all the places where the sunlight kissed him and I still hadn’t.
His chest was broad and defined with firm, round pecs and dark, small nipples. The sides of his torso showed the muscles and ribs in great definition, and his abs were sculpted like someone had painted him straight from their dreams. His legs were big and strong, spread out so he could plant his elbows on his knees as he leaned in, and his underwear tightened over his balls and cock.
My mouth went dry in an instant. There was little left to imagination there as I gazed at the soft roundness that packed his underwear.
Snap.
I looked up. “Wait, I wasn’t ready,” I said.
“You were beautiful,” he replied, neither flattering nor teasing. The buzzing from the camera made us both look. “You won’t believe it,” he said.
The film was spent. That was the last image. “You can develop it.”
