“Good?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You haven’t started the actual fucking yet.” I winked, the gleam in his eyes saying challenge accepted.
Garrett pulled back, leaving only his crown inside me, before snapping his hips forward. The best kind of pleasure shot through me, making my whole body flush with need. “More.”
“Fuck yes,” Garrett replied, letting loose, railing my ass, his body slapping against mine. Each time it did, colors danced behind my eyelids. “Look at me,” he ordered, and I did.
“So fucking bossy.” But I liked it in this situation. All the time? No. But it was fun to give up control to him a little bit. I jerked myself, fucking my hand while he took me. Our gazes never left each other. He gave me a cocky smile that went straight to my balls. I was pretty sure everything he did had a direct line there.
“It’s so hot seeing you like this. You gonna come for me, Ramsey? You gonna blow your load all over your chest before I fill your ass?”
Yes, yes I was.
I reached out, wrapped a hand around his nape, and tugged him toward me. My legs slipped off his shoulders, but I kept them wide and pulled back. Just like on the field, we read each other well, Garrett knowing what I wanted. He took my mouth, pressed his tongue in while he worked his cock in slow, deep, targeted thrusts.
My body trembled. With my free hand I stroked my cock. My balls drew up, and I arched toward him as I came apart beneath him, shooting rope after rope of my release between us.
Garrett thrust harder, his dick pulsing inside me, spilling his release deep.
He fell on top of me, our sweaty bodies stuck together with perspiration and cum. I caressed his back as he kissed my chest, and then he pushed up, his cheeks surprisingly pink. “Good?” The way he said that one word told me how much he needed it to be.
“Really fucking good.”
“Yes I am,” he answered, and we laughed and kissed.
This was so not turning out to be what I’d planned.
“How you been, man?” Tucker asked Houston. It was a Monday night. We’d had a home game earlier, which Houston and his family had come to. Tucker asked me to hang out since we had the following day off. I’d been with Garrett nearly every day and figured it would start looking suspicious if we were too glued to the hip, so we’d decided to do our own thing tonight.
“Good, just getting this knee stronger and trying to figure out what in the hell I want to do next.”
We were in a private booth at an upscale Denver club, nursing beers, finger foods on the table between us. I wondered what Garrett and Cross were doing.
“Sucks, man,” Tucker said. “We miss you out there. Baby G’s doing good, but it’s not the same as having you.”
Houston took a drink, then set his bottle down. Tucker didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, so I made an attempt to change the subject and asked Tucker, “Is your family flying out for the holidays?” He was from Florida. We didn’t have a lot of time off, so Tucker’s mom and three sisters often came to see him.
Thanksgiving was a couple of weeks away, and we didn’t have a game on the holiday this year. I was expected at the McRaes’ and couldn’t help wondering how different it would be this time—you know, since their son now secretly put his dick in my ass and I did the same to him.
“They’re hoping to.” Tucker rambled on about his family for a while, then asked me what I was doing. “You know you’re welcome with me,” he said. It was shitty being the resident stray sometimes, but I was lucky to have friends who cared.
“I’ll be with McRae…s. The McRaes, I mean.”
His brows drew together slightly, I was sure because of how I’d fumbled my response, but he didn’t call me on it. Houston, on the other hand, stifled a laugh.
Three women approached us then, all of them incredibly gorgeous, showing all sorts of leg and flashing us smiles.
“You’re Houston McRae, aren’t you?” the blonde asked. “And Warner Ramsey and Malik Tucker?”
“Yeah, we are,” Tuck replied. “And who do we have the pleasure of speaking to?”
They gave their names.
Before Garrett had turned my life upside down, I would have been stoked, but now I was just trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.
“Do you guys want to dance?” Lydia, the woman with dark braids asked, gaze shooting to Tucker.
He stood and held his hand out for her. “I would love to dance with you.” He turned to Houston and me. Neither of us had moved. I didn’t know what kept Houston from standing, but I had a man I was hoping would find his way to my bed tonight. A man who was only supposed to be my friend with benefits.