Page 29 of Love of the Game
I gave his dick a few pulls and enjoyed the sight of him rolling his eyes back before he squeezed them shut, arched, and moaned.
“Guess you should go get them, huh?” I said.
“You’re evil.” He didn’t sound at all upset, and his mouth ticked to a grin when I let his dick go. “Be rightback.” He scrambled off the bed and to the bathroom. A moment later, he came back with a box of condoms.
“You don’t keep them in your nightstand?”
“Oh, um.” He shrugged. “When I have a regular partner, I do. But it’s been a while and they kind of reminded me that I really wasn’t finding what I wanted with hookups.” He sat down on the bed slowly and looked, suddenly, bone-weary exhausted. He gestured between us. “I know this doesn’t have that high a chance of being anything permanent, but it… this doesn’t feel like a hookup. And I just really want to be with you.”
Wow, that was actually pretty heavy, all together. My chest ached for this man. He was so damn happy all the time, but underneath that, how much loneliness lurked? I took the box from his hands, put it on the table with the lube, and then took him into my arms and kissed him. He was pliant and after a moment, folded his arms around me, too.
When I rolled him onto his back, I whispered. “I’ve wanted you since I walked into your bar. You’re so damn good looking. But what caught me was your smile, and how you care about everyone. I don’t know what this is either, but it’s not a hookup, and I’m going to make damn sure you enjoy every second.” I paused and skimmed fingers over his nipple. “And that you can’t think when I’m done.”
There was that brilliant smile again.
I worked my way down his body, kissing and nipping as I went, pausing over the text on his ribs—which I still couldn’t read because it wasn’t in English. Swedish, I thought. I nibbled right below that, and Jon gasped, and urged my head lower.
Yeah, okay. I slid my fingers over Jon’s hips before Iwrapped a hand around his cock and sucked the head into my mouth.
“Oh my God,” Jon moaned. “Fuck, Drake.”
Jon was just about the perfect size to suck off. Not too long or wide, and I loved the noises he made, and the way he squirmed and thrust under me as I worked his length into my mouth, and eventually my throat.
I swore he squeaked at that. One high-pitched sound, as if he was completely shocked. When I came up for air, he found my head with his hands. “Drake… Drake, you do that again, I’m gonna come.”
I met his gaze, and there was a mix of desire and apprehension there. “You want that? Want to come down my throat then be fucked senseless after you’re good and sensitive?”
His eyes widened a bit, and I swear his dick got harder in my hand. “Yeah,” he breathed. “God, it’s been—” He cut himself off with a laugh. “Yeah. I want that.”
I was more than happy to give him what he wanted. I took my time sucking him off, though. Worshiping his dick and edging him with slow licks and sucks and exploration until he was babbling nonsense between begging me to make him come. My name was interspersed with gasps, pleading, and cursing—including something that sounded French and profane. When he was a trembling mess, I finally took him down my throat again. Didn’t take much time before he was breathlessly croaking out my name while his cock thickened—then he was spilling himself into my mouth. Jon’s moans were deep and glorious, and when I finally came up for air, he was glassy-eyed.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “You’re good at that.”
“Thanks.” I grinned down at him. “It’s not all I’m good at in bed.”
God, him and his dark hair all mussed up, the sheen of sweat on his chest, and those brown eyes sparkling. He levered himself up, cupped me behind the neck, and kissed me. “Is that so?” he said, when he’d freed my lips.
“It’s your lucky night. You get to find out.” I paused. “How do you want to—” I gestured to the bed around us.
That got me a chuckle. “On my back, if that’s fine with you.”
Fucking this man in any way was going to be a pleasure. If all we ever did was me sucking him off, well, that and a few pumps of my own dick would be enough. “Absolutely.”
While he grabbed a pillow for his hips, I got the lube and condoms. Sitting back on my heels, I drank in all of Jon. His inked arms and shoulders. His sculpted, lean body with those thick thighs. The devilish look on his face, all angular and foxlike.
This wasn’t a man who should ever be lonely. Not with the heart of gold and fast-working mind that went along with that amazing body. “You’re so damn perfect.” I drew a condom out of the box, and tossed the box back toward the nightstand.
“I absolutely am not,” he said. His smile remained. “You know that.”
Except he was perfect. And beautiful. And—at least right now—mine.
“Mmmhmm. Whatever you say.” I stroked the inside of his thighs and watched his eyes roll back as he sank down onto the mattress. I teased his balls and taint, licked my thumb, then rimmed his hole.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Sometime, I’m going to eat your ass,” I said. “But not tonight.”
His reply was a croak.
