Page 9 of Barn Burner (Love The Game #2)

Brayden

Am I surprised that Jesse isn’t lying next to me when I wake up?

No, because he doesn’t seem like the “sleep in and have morning cuddles” kinda guy.

But I am surprised by the note he’s left on his pillow, letting me know if he isn’t in the kitchen when I wake up, then he’s gone to feed the horses and will be back shortly, so to make myself at home.

Raising my arms above my head, I push my hands against the headboard—the headboard that was hitting the wall in a damn good bass beat last night—and I let out a long, satisfied groan as I stretch my body.

Last night was exactly what I needed. An orgasm of a lifetime.

Something I definitely want to do again and again.

Preferably later today if Jesse’s up for it.

And it was the perfect chance to finally get out of my head.

It was like he fucked the negativity right out of me.

I don’t think he realizes he was exactly what I needed. Someone to just take control.

I was no longer Brayden Nielson, first-line center and top goal scorer for the Calgary Bobcats, who let down thousands of people. Who’s been wearing a shroud of disappointment for the last two months.

I was just Brayden Nielson. A guy who has a head-over-heels crush on a stoic cowboy who picked him up off the side of the road. Who could read my wants and needs better than I could.

And the way he picked me up and carried me to his bed as if I didn’t weigh 190 pounds?

Dream man. Right there.

If I could take him with me back to the city, I’d start planning our wedding.

But that’s just a pipe dream. A bitter pill that I’ll have to swallow because, as I learned back in June, life isn’t fair, and this is just another one of those things that I can’t have.

Because his life is here, and mine’s under the bright lights of the Bobcats arena.

Soon, I’ll have to say goodbye to Jesse and to this place that has allowed me to finally breathe again.

I’ll be back on the ice, putting my all into being the hockey player the Bobcats pay me millions of dollars to be, and Jesse will be a happy memory to revisit in my imagination when I’m off the ice.

The sound of a cupboard closing snaps my attention toward the partially opened door. I get out of bed, picking up my boxers from where I left them on the floor, and slip them on. I have a quick freshen up in the bathroom and brush my teeth, deciding I’ll shower after I’ve had something to eat.

Hell, maybe Jesse will join me.

I make my way into the kitchen and find him standing at the counter with his back to me.

He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs that hug one hot-as-fuck ass.

His dark hair is damp, the strands beginning to curl at the base of his neck where it touches his shoulders.

His body is incredible. Strength built from years of manual labour rather than hours honed in a gym.

The muscles in his broad shoulders and wide back flex as he whisks.

I’m pretty sure I’m drooling at the sight.

My cock is most definitely chubbing up at the thought of how good that body made me feel last night.

“Are you done starin’, Brayden?” he says without turning around, his voice rumbling like thunder through the kitchen.

I huff a laugh, not embarrassed in the slightest that he caught me ogling. “Not yet. It’s quite the view. I’m just appreciating.”

He hums, and I feel the vibration across my bare skin.

Stepping further into the kitchen, I sidle up next to him at the counter. He’s making french toast, which just so happens to be my favourite treat for breakfast.

“How’d you know?” I ask, pointing to where the brioche slice is soaking in the mix.

“Know what?”

“That this is my favourite.”

He glances up at me with a flash of surprise in his eyes. “It is?”

I nod, placing my hands behind me and lifting myself up to sit on the counter. “Yeah. When I’m training, I allow myself to eat whatever I want for one day every other week, and french toast is one of my non-negotiables.”

He doesn’t respond, just turns to flick on the stove and heat up a pan. But the silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s peaceful. Like submerging into a warm hot tub after a tough game.

The morning sun casts a warm ray of light through the window, highlighting Jesse in a glow, bringing out the different shades of brown in his hair and the stubble lining his jaw.

Shadows sit in the dips and grooves of his impressive body and beneath the dark hair dusting across his chest and down his navel, disappearing into the waistband of his boxers.

Boxers that cradle a large bulge that would fit perfectly in the palm of my hand if I reached out to cup it.

“You’re starin’ again,” he murmurs, raising his hand that isn’t holding the spatula to rub over his jaw.

The sound of his stubble grazing his palm causes a shiver to travel down my spine. Damn, I want to feel it scraping all over my body. Between my thighs. Between my ass cheeks. In the crook of my neck while he sucks on my skin.

I let out a shaky breath. “I can’t help it. I like you.”

He arches a brow.

“What? Don’t act surprised. You must have known since you picked me up like I was a stray cat that I’m attracted to you.”

“Never said I was surprised.”

“No, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to take them back.

I have no idea why I’m getting bratty with him.

His quiet personality is something I like a lot.

I’m surrounded by people who constantly share their opinions, regardless of whether I want to know or not or whether it be about me or my performance or my teammates.

Being around Jesse is nice because earning his words is like a reward, and I feel like a fucking king when he shares them with me.

Jesse’s silent as he plates up the first batch of french toast. He hands it to me and points to the dining table. “Toppings are over there.”

Swallowing, I hope my voice doesn’t come out like a scratched record. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Jesse puts more slices of brioche into the bowl to soak, then turns to face me, placing his hands behind him on the counter.

“I’m attracted to you, too, Brayden, but we both know that whatever this thing is between us has an expiry date.

I don’t know what it is you’re running from, and I’ve not wanted to push you to tell me.

But I’m also aware that if I can’t keep you, then I’ll help you be whatever you need me to be right now. Even if it’s just sex.”

A deep ache blooms in my chest at his honesty.

I’ve always known my being here is temporary, but hearing him say it?

To speak it out loud makes it feel more real.

Could we make it work? It’s at least an hour’s drive from the city, but then I spend so much time on the road.

Jesse can’t exactly leave the responsibilities he has here because the ranch is a twenty-four-seven operation, and I couldn’t ask him to walk away from it.

And what relationship would it be if we’re barely seeing each other, even once a week? I don’t know if I could live like that.

But I can pretend there isn’t a time limit on our time together. I can trick myself into delusion that this is possible, even for a short while.

“I want you to be who you’d be if I didn’t have to leave,” I admit.

“I can do that,” he answers with a small nod, and then he nudges a chair out with his bare foot and points to it. “Eat your toast, Brayden.”

I do as I’m told, dropping into the seat, and smothering my food in maple syrup. All the while, I watch the flex in Jesse’s back as he makes the next batch. Once I’ve cleared my plate, he picks it up and places it in the sink.

“Get on the table.”

Not sure if I heard him properly, I tilt my head to look up at him. “What?”

He jerks his chin toward the dining table. “On the table.”

Slowly scraping my chair back, I stand up and rest my hands on the flat surface to pull myself up when he growls, “Take off your underwear.”

I hook my thumbs into the elastic and tug them down my legs, letting the material pool at my feet. Naked as the day I was born, I climb up onto the table that sits in front of large windows overlooking the back porch I found him on that first night.

“Hands and knees. Feet on the edge.” He taps the edge of the table with his knuckles, letting me know exactly where he means.

I swallow hard, hoping it’ll dampen my suddenly dry throat, and my body trembles with electricity as I shuffle back.

The solid oak digs into my bare knees. With my feet hanging over the edge, I glance over my shoulder to where Jesse is standing, a plate of french toast in hand, watching me with such an intense look.

He looks hungry. Ravenous. Like a wolf who has been starved in the woods and has finally come across his first prey in days.

He pulls out the chair I was just sitting on.

The sound of the chair legs scraping against the tiled floor is the only thing I can hear over the pounding of my heart in my ears.

He sits down, and I’m acutely aware his face is in perfect position with my ass.

I can hear him chewing on his toast, and then the clink of his plate meeting the table causes me to shiver.

“You’re making a mess of my table, Brayden,” he says, gravelly.

I dip my chin to look between my arms, and sure enough, my hard cock is dripping a pool of precome on the wooden surface.

“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

“Taking a moment to appreciate my breakfast.”

I swallow and lick over my lips. “W-what?”

He arches one thick brow as the corner of his lips kicks up. “Don’t you ever appreciate your meal before you eat, Brayden?”

He leans forward a fraction. Roughened hands land on the back of my thighs and smooth upward. I gasp. My skin feels like I’ve been shocked with a thousand volts because of how fucking horny I am for this man.

He kneads my glutes, hands massaging the muscles firmly. My eyes roll to the back of my head. Then he lets go of one cheek, and I whimper.

He drags his plate closer and drags two fingers through the maple syrup he’s poured on, then brings them to his mouth. His eyes lock on mine as he sucks on his fingers, throat working and cheeks hollowing as he sucks hard on his digits.

A desperate groan escapes me. My cock throbs, feeling the phantom touch. Fuck, I want him to touch me so bad.

His fingers return to the plate, coating his fingers in syrup once again, and nothing could prepare me for the warm, sticky feeling of him circling his fingers around my hole.

“Holy fuck!” I moan, toes curling at the sensation. “Jesse! Fuck !”

I’m exposed, fully on display for him on my hands and knees, on his fucking dining table. And I’m so fucking turned on right now I might pass out.

His tongue soon replaces his fingers. His scruff scrapes against my sensitive skin, and I tremble, gasping for air.

One hand travels up my spine until he reaches the middle of my shoulders.

He presses down as he wraps his other arm around my waist, splaying his hand against my hip to hold me in place.

I drop forward, resting the side of my face against the back of my hands, which are flat against the table.

The angle pushes my ass further toward Jesse’s face, and I’m rewarded when his mouth hungrily meets my hole again.

His tongue spears into me, licking my sensitive flesh.

The feel of his saliva dripping down my taint to my balls only drives me wilder, and soon, I’m panting. Moaning his name. Begging for more.

Just as I’m about to plead for him to touch me, a roughened palm wraps around my cock and starts to jerk me off.

“Fuck, I’m… Ah! I’m gonna…” I can’t get the words out in time. My balls tighten, and his name is a hot moan on my lips as my release spills over his hand and lands on the table beneath me.

His low growl against my heated flesh causes my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

I’m boneless, gasping for air. I don’t think I could move even if the house burst into flames.

I manage to twist my head enough to watch as he sits upright, tongue darting out to lick over his swollen lips.

“Get up,” he says, slapping my ass cheek as he stands. “Go shower. We’re going for a ride.”

My eyes drop to his hard cock, which is now visible over the waistband of his boxers.

“Not that kind of ride, Brayden,” he grumbles. He walks to the sink to dispose of his plate, then disappears down the hall to his bedroom.

Holy fuck.

I might want to pretend like we have no expiration date, but if this is how Jesse would be if I didn’t have to leave…

Then I’m going to be in for a world of heartbreak when I do.