Page 3 of Scoring Zone
Grayson’s lips are soft and firm under mine. A slight hesitation, then we kiss as if we’ve been doing it for years. Licking into each other’s mouths and eliciting groans like we already know what turns the other on.
If peace had a taste, it would be my Gray. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with him, right here, right now.
His silky hair glides through my fingers, and I’m instantly obsessed with it.
His powerful hands grip my ass as he thrusts forward, and our hard cocks make contact. He’s as tall as I am but not as bulky as he was when we played in the Canadian Hockey League together. Still, with his solid muscles beneath my hands, I’m aching to touch every inch of him.
Fuck.I’m dizzy with lust. I had no idea grinding against a man with my clothes on could cause such incredible sensations. I’ve been missing out on this my entire life and am desperate to make up for lost time.
“Really? Are you sure?” He pulls back to meet my eyes.
I must’ve accidentally said fuck out loud and don’t trust myself to answer. Awareness of our surroundings penetrates my single-minded focus on Gray. The crowd is counting down, and there’re only three seconds until midnight. I press my lips to his, trying to hold back, but he won’t let me. Our kiss is frenzied and messy and not at all how I usually kiss a woman.
“Happy New Year,” I breathe into his mouth.
He swallows and says it back.
The walk to our hotel and my room is a blur after we dodge my teammates. I’m holding his hand like I think he’s going to escape, but from his grin and the sparkle in his eyes, he’s not going anywhere without me.
We appraise each other in the elevator with new interest. My best friend is sexy as fuck, and I want my hands all over him. I’m dying to run my tongue over the scar on his top lip. He got it when we were twelve from a skate in a game.
Exiting the elevator, he reaches into my back pocket to pull out my room key. He knows I don’t keep it in my wallet but in the opposite pocket. The mere second his hand brushes over my ass isn’t nearly long enough.
Gray’s crooked smile takes over his face as he opens the door to my hotel room, motioning for me to go in first. Wrapping my arms around him as I go, we tumble into the room in a tangle of lips and arms and legs.
The king bed looms as the focal point of the room. A tiny part of my brain wonders why it doesn’t bother me that I’m about to have sex with a man. But he’s not just a man—he’s my Gray. The brightest thing in my world.
It could be my imagination, but the room smells like sin, and I’ve never been so ready to commit one.
We bump into the bed, and I sit. “Strip,” I command.
Although I’ve never done this, the darkness and an insatiable appetite have control over me, and this time…I’m not stopping it. This time…I’m taking what I want and damn the consequences.
Thoughts about questioning my sexuality didn’t seem relevant in the past, and being with Gray is as natural as breathing. Like he’s been the obvious choice all along.
He slowly undoes his shirt, exposing more of his muscular chest with each button. He’s irresistible, and I’ve waited long enough.
I seize each side of his shirt and rip it apart so buttons fly everywhere. “Faster,” I grunt. My pulse surges as my heart pumps at an alarming speed. Grayson’s the cure for whatever is happening to me.
He sheds his pants and boxer briefs within seconds and strokes his long dick.
“Someone is impatient tonight. Is this what you want?” He stands out of my reach.
My mouth waters at the sight of the precum beading on his tip. My ears fill with the roar of my heart, and I’m about to combust without my hands on him.
“No,” I bark, but haul him to stand between my legs, with my fingers digging into his hips.
Grayson dips his head to kiss me, and his laugh is full of joy, and I inhale it. Taking it in, hoping to capture it and save it inside me for when I need it most.
Our mouths learn the shape of one another in a haze of bliss.
My temperature rises, boiling my blood, demanding his submission. I yank his hand away and replace it with mine. He’s hard and soft and so warm, growing fatter and dripping when my fist closes around him. My hand is awkward at first since the only dick I’ve touched is mine, but I quickly adjust. I can handle sticks; I’ve got this.
His groan feeds my beast, urging me on. The string of precum calls to me, and I dip my head to taste it. Grayson tastes of relief and home and salty pleasure. But it’s not enough.
My brain screams for more.
More.
