Page 36 of Playing Rough

Shaking off those dangerous thoughts, I haul myself out of bed. Riot's already up, judging by the fact his door’s wide open but his bed’s empty. He’s probably gone for one of his relentless morning runs. The dude never skips a day and he’s got the body to show for it.

It’s cold as fuck outside and I’m skipping a run in favor of the stationary bike today for sure.

After a quick shower, I throw on jeans and a thermal shirt. As I'm tugging on my boots, Riot walks in, skin flushed from the cold. His fitted black Henley clings to every sculpted muscle and my mouth goes dry.

"Morning," he says briskly, yanking off his shoes. "You ready for class?"

That's right. We have Literature together this morning. The thought of sitting next to Riot, way too aware of his every movement and listening to his voice, makes my palms prickle and I swallow hard.

"Yeah, let me grab a protein shake first. You want one?" My voice comes out weirdly strained.

“Sure, thanks. I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick. Give me ten.”

Riot disappears into the bathroom, and I slump against the counter, pulse racing. The thought of him naked and wet just feet away makes my dick hard enough to ache. I make both of our shakes, willing my cock to behave.

Maybe a cold shower of my own is in order. A long, lonely, very cold shower to make it through the day sitting next to Riot without doing something stupid like shoving him up against the wall and—

The shower shuts off and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my cock to knock its shit off. I need to stay in control. You got this, London. You’re not gonna jump your teammate, even if he is tempting as fuck.

Riot emerges in a cloud of steam that smells like his minty body wash, raking a hand through his damp hair. Droplets cling to his sharp jawline and full lips. He didn’t shave today so dark stubble dots his jaw and I wanna rub against it until it hurts.

I can't help but stare, a flush creeping up my neck. Riot's lean but muscular, his abs and pecs flexing as he reaches for his protein shake. The tattoo on his neck bobs as he gulps it down, making me want to trace it with my tongue.

Something inside of me snaps and before I can think better of it, his shake is dropping to the hardwoods as I slam him up against the wall, needing to taste him so fucking bad I’m shaking.

Riot grunts in surprise, but then his hands are fisting in my shirt and my hair, and he's kissing me back with a desperate intensity that makes my head spin. His lips are soft and full, tasting like mint and his shake. His stubble scrapes my chin and I groan into his mouth, grinding shamelessly against him.

My dick's so goddamn hard, I'm surprised it's not tearing through my jeans.

"London," he gasps, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. "What are we doing here?"

"I don't know, but I don’t want to stop." My voice is ragged with need. "You make me crazy."

Riot's fingers tangle harder in my hair, pulling me back to his mouth. "Fuck, you're driving me insane, too."

His tongue slides over mine, and I moan as our hips rock together. Riot's cock is just as hard as mine, the thick length of it pressing against me through the towel hanging precariously low on his hips.

I’ve never felt anything like this. Never thought I’d find another guy’s dick hot, but here I am. None of the girls I’ve hooked up with in the past ever made me this hard.

"We should stop," he pants between kisses. "We have class."

"Fuck class." I nip at his bottom lip, reveling in his sharp intake of breath. "I want you, Riot. So fucking bad."

He groans and shoves his tongue into my mouth again. The kiss is sloppy and painful and so fucking perfect. My hands find his towel and yank it off, baring him to my hungry gaze.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, taking in the sight of his long, thick cock jutting out from his sculpted body. It's pierced, flushed pink and dripping pre-cum, begging for my tongue to lick up every goddamn drop.

My mouth literally waters, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.

Riot's eyes are wild as he watches me drop to my knees in front of him, desperate to taste him. I'm freaking out a bit since I've never done this, but I’m not about to let that stop me.

"You're not allowed to say shit if I'm bad at this," I warn him, voice shaking.

"London," Riot growls, fingers tangling in my hair again. "You could be terrible at sucking dick and I'd still come in two seconds."

I grin up at him. "You a two pump chump, Golden Boy?"

He rolls his eyes, but his cock twitches against my cheek, the metal of his piercing hot. "Just suck my fucking dick already."

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