Page 64 of Playing Rough

London bounces on his toes beside me, shaking out the last of his drowsiness. “Race you to the athletic building?”

I quirk a brow. “You sure you’re ready to get your ass kicked this early?”

“In your dreams, Kensington.”

And he’s off, legs eating up the slick pavement in smooth strides. Laughing, I chase after him, my own muscles warming fast. We push each other up the steep incline, London taunting me the whole way. I just manage to beat him to the double doors, both of us gulping air as he uses his keycard to buzz us in.

The gym is quiet this early, only a few other guys scattered throughout the weight room. London and I settle in side by side at the bench press, trading barbs like always.

I watch him work through his reps, feeling a surge of pride at his strength, the way he grits his teeth as he pushes past his limits. The ways his arms flex, the veins popping out as they strain against his skin—it's fucking hot as hell.

London smirks when he catches me staring. "Like what you see, Kensington?"

"You know I do." I lean down to kiss him, tasting the salt of his sweat on his lips. "I love you like this. All sweaty and worked up."

London's eyes darken. "Maybe we should skip the gym next time and just fuck instead."

I groan. "As tempting as that is, we need to be in peak shape for the playoffs. And Coach would kill us if we missed practice."

London grumbles but finishes his set, wiping the sweat off his face with a towel. "Fine. But we’re fucking when we get home." He kisses me again, slow and deep, before heading to the stationary bike to finish his workout.

I watch him go, feeling my heart swell with something close to wonder. I never thought I'd have this—someone to come home to, to wake up with every morning. Someone who knows me inside out and loves me anyway. Sometimes I think I’m dreaming.

But this is real. And it's fucking incredible.

After our workout, we go home and shower together, and he kisses the hell out of me against the cold tile wall. The warm water slides over us, relieving the soreness in our muscles.

London's hands wander, sliding down my abs and lower until his fingertips brush against my hips.

"You're killing me," I groan as he palms my ass. "If you keep this up, we won't make it to practice."

London chuckles low in his throat. "I know you can take more than this, Kensington." He nips at my earlobe, making me shudder. "And I want to hear you scream my name."

I groan again as he drops to his knees, sucking me into his mouth like a goddamn pro. His eyes meet mine, filled with wicked intent as he works me with his tongue, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, London," I choke out, gripping his hair as he swallows me down. "You’ve gotten so fucking good at that."

London hums around me and the vibration makes me see stars. It's all I can do not to thrust into his mouth, but I don't want to choke him.

I let him work me until I’m writhing against the wall, panting for air. “Enough. Fuck, I’m already gonna come.”

He pulls off of me with a pop. London chuckles, then stands, kissing me again. “I’m gonna give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had,” he rasps.

My cock throbs at his words, and I let out a strangled laugh.

“I’m serious,” London promises, eyes burning as he slides his fingers through my hair. "Fuck me," London growls against my lips. "I want you inside of me."

His words make my cock twitch. I spin him around, pinning him against the shower wall with his hands above his head. "You sure about that?" I grip his throat and squeeze. I’m obsessed with holding him like this, showing him he’s mine.

"Yes," London moans. "Fuck me, Riot. Now."

I reach for the lube we keep stashed in the shower caddy and slick myself up, groaning at how good it feels. Then I press use my fingers to stretch London as he curses and writhes against me, desperate for more.

"I'm clean," he says. "Got tested last week." He bites his lip, looking back at me. "And I trust you."

His words made me so happy, knowing he trusts me. "I got tested at the start of the season and I haven't been with anyone but you. Are you sure?"

London nods, his eyes dark. "C’mon, Golden Boy. I wanna feel you bare."

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