Page 11 of Breakaway Goals

Then Hayes went lower, not touching anything, but definitely getting within the vicinity, watching as Morgan bit his bottom lip, hard.

He knew if he went another inch over and another down, he’d find Morgan’s cock, throbbing and hard in his sweatpants.

It would be so easy to ghost his palm over it and then slip his hand in. Touch him for real.

It was stupid to want Morgan to ask him to do it. Wasn’t this more than he’d already hoped for, in any possible universe?

“What . . .” Morgan swallowed hard. “Are you . . .”

“Do you want me to?”

Morgan laughed, almost desperately. “Um, yeah . Definitely.”

There was nothing stopping Hayes now. He felt a tiny frisson of nerves—once he did this, there’d be no going back from it—but pushed them away as he skimmed his fingers lower, finding exactly what he’d hoped.

Morgan’s cock was thick and hard, pressing against the fabric, twitching as Hayes traced its outline.

“Please,” Morgan groaned.

Hayes shouldn’t let the sound go to his head, but it was impossible. “You want more?”

Morgan tipped his head back. Bit his lip again. It was like he’d bitten Hayes, and he was shocked by it and craving it, all the same.

Heat surged through Hayes, erasing the last of his doubts.

He was here and Morgan was here and he wanted him to touch him. It would be stupid to not do everything he wanted—or to at least start on the very long list.

Still, it was obvious Morgan wasn’t expecting it when Hayes sank to his knees in front of the bed, not only from the shocked arousal that crossed over his face but the little gasp he tried to muffle.

“Yeah?” Hayes asked, pausing as his fingers gripped the waistband of Morgan’s sweats but went no farther.

For a moment that felt elastic and endless, Morgan didn’t say anything. Just stared at Hayes. Then finally, he nodded and pulled his own sweatshirt off. The look in his hazel eyes was intense, focused. Telling Hayes to make the play.

Hayes wasted no time.

He’d gone long enough without doing this.

Tugging down Morgan’s pants and his underwear, he leaned in, getting his first good look at Morgan Reynolds’ dick.

It was so unfair that his cock was as gorgeous as the rest of him, but right now, Hayes wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t more than a little flattered that the closer he came, licking his lips, the tighter Morgan’s thighs tensed.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Morgan groaned, not sounding like he hated it at all.

“Just admiring the view,” Hayes murmured. He let himself for another breath and then he slipped it into his mouth, the taste of Morgan’s precome coating his tongue as he wrapped it around the head, sucking hard.

Morgan let out a wordless groan, and when Hayes glanced up, he was digging his fists into the comforter.

“You can put your hands in my hair,” Hayes said, letting up for a second. “Just . . .uh . . .don’t pull too hard.”

The flush on Morgan’s face deepened, winding its way down his bare chest.

“Shit, that’s hot,” he said, and he reached out with one hand.

But as Hayes took Morgan’s cock back into his mouth, he didn’t use it to dig into his scalp or pull his hair, hard or otherwise.

Instead, his touch was sweet, almost reverent, tracing the lines of Hayes’ face, feeling the bulge of himself against Hayes’ cheek.

When he finally settled in Hayes’ hair, he was still gentle, caressing his scalp.

And that only encouraged Hayes to take Morgan deeper, to let the tip of his cock ghost at the back of his throat.

Morgan moaned louder. He was almost babbling now, an endless litany of baby and please and good , that was the encouragement Hayes needed to double his efforts.

Too soon, Morgan’s hand finally tightened in his hair, a warning for Hayes right before Morgan was gasping and he was coming down his throat.

“Holy shit,” Morgan exhaled as Hayes licked him clean and let him slip from his mouth.

He was breathing hard, not just from sucking cock, but his own arousal, now that he was able to focus on the fact that he was more turned on than he’d probably ever been in his whole life.

Just the fact that he’d sucked Morgan’s cock was going to be a top three sexual experience. Nevermind anything else that happened.

Morgan’s hand drifted down to his shoulder and he gripped it, encouraging him to lift himself up.

Hayes was not expecting Morgan to want to kiss him after that—straight guys, or guys who’d thought they were straight, were understandably usually weird about come and anywhere come had just been—but to his shock, Morgan immediately kissed him hard and deep and eager.

And it was his hands, not Hayes’, that were suddenly at his waist, shucking his sweatpants off.

“Shit, you are so fucking hot,” Morgan murmured, pulling back a fraction. “Just look at you, baby.”

He short-circuited the rest of Hayes’ brain by licking up his palm and then reaching down, no hesitation whatsoever, and wrapping his hand around his cock.

Hayes jolted at the first touch, the pleasure rocketing through him.

“Is this good—you gotta tell me if it’s good,” Morgan pleaded, a surprisingly earnest look in his eyes. “You made me feel so good, I wanna give it to you, too.”

Hayes had never let himself really think about what Morgan Reynolds would be like in bed, but he supposed he’d assumed it would be similar to how he was on the ice: confident and brash. Sure of himself, even if he wasn’t sure of himself at all.

“Fuck yeah, it feels good,” Hayes told him.

There was an addicting vulnerability in Morgan’s face right now, and if Hayes was honest, that was the hottest thing about this whole experience.

Sure, Morgan’s hand felt good, especially after how long the windup had been, and how much sucking cock in general and sucking Morgan’s cock specifically had turned Hayes on. But that was the thing that was unwinding him, finally. The need in Morgan’s eyes.

“God, yeah,” Hayes said and kissed him, crowding into him enough that he could feel their bodies touching in half a dozen places, not just Morgan’s hand on his dick.

It was probably the most basic handjob he’d ever gotten, but it didn’t matter.

A minute later, with Morgan’s mouth eager and hungry against his own, he came his brains out.

“Shit,” Hayes sighed happily. He wanted to lean in, his knees wobbly post-orgasm, and rest his head on Morgan’s shoulder, but he wasn’t sure what the deal was. Was the touching over the moment they’d both come?

Had Morgan gotten what he’d wanted from him and cuddling wasn’t part of it?

That seemed likely, as Hayes had never pegged Morgan as a cuddler.

Of course he’d never imagined that Morgan might give him an orgasm either, so maybe they were just in uncharted territory.

“I . . .uh . . .we should clean up,” Morgan said, and he didn’t look uneasy, not even remotely, but there was an understandable awkwardness.

There always was.

“Yeah,” Hayes said, nodding, and deciding to hell with it, pushed his pants and boxers off the rest of the way and headed towards the bathroom.

He grabbed a wet washcloth and was back a second later.

Most of his orgasm had ended up on Morgan’s hand but there were a few drops of come on his chest and his thighs.

It was definitely not a hardship to clean those up. To linger at how fucking gorgeous Morgan was, now that Hayes was letting himself look. Sure, he could’ve done it in the locker room, but he’d never let himself before. Not with Morgan, not with any other guy.

Morgan watched as Hayes cleaned him, not saying a single word.

Hayes sort of got it; what even was there to say?

It was wild this had happened at all, and there was an inherent messiness in here that Morgan wouldn’t like.

Hayes wasn’t even sure he liked it. He’d never hooked up with another hockey player before.

He’d gone out of his way never to hook up with another hockey player.

And now he’d not only done it, but he’d done it with one of the most high profile guys in the sport. The guy whose footsteps everyone expected him to follow in. The one who he was playing with for the next eight days.

No big deal.

It was okay if Morgan was freaking out about this, because Hayes was kind of freaking out about this, and he’d known he was gay for a really long time.

“Are you—” Hayes cut himself off. Suddenly unsure he’d started that the right way. “You’re okay, yeah?”

Morgan nodded. “Uh. Yeah. I’m good.” A small smile emerged. “Really good. This was good.”

“You got any other adjectives, or are you sticking with ‘good’ for the time being?” Hayes teased.

Morgan flushed red. “No. Good is . . .um . . .good.” He made a self-deprecating noise. “You kind of sucked my brain out with my dick.”

“Noted,” Hayes said, unable to help his own smile now as he pulled his briefs and sweats back on.

Morgan stood and re-assembled his clothing as Hayes flopped down on the edge of the other bed.

“Finland tomorrow,” Hayes said, deciding that the best course of action was to move onto a different subject, and hockey was always safe.

“Yeah.” But once he was dressed, Morgan still seemed like he was lingering, eyes glued to where Hayes sat on the other bed. Hesitating like he wanted to go over to him.

Maybe he didn’t want to just fuck and run? Hayes gave him some credit for that. Post-nut clarity was a real thing, and he wouldn’t blame Morgan for freaking out.

“We feel pretty ready,” Hayes said, sticking to hockey because that was safer than suggesting Morgan come over here and kiss him again.

Morgan shot him an incredulous look. “We barely escaped against Sweden.”

“One goal or three, doesn’t matter, just that we won,” Hayes reminded him.

Morgan began to pace in between the two beds, and Hayes regretted bringing up Finland, because a second ago Morgan had been relaxed, and now he wasn’t.

“Yeah, we can’t get away with those mistakes every time. We gotta be on our best game,” Morgan said.

“We will be,” Hayes reassured.

“But—”

But Hayes had had just about enough of this. “Come here,” he interrupted.

Morgan’s eyes met Hayes’. “What?”

Hayes sighed. “Come here,” he repeated, gesturing this time.

He didn’t come immediately. Which tracked, honestly. Had anyone ever told Morgan Reynolds what to do in years? Had anyone ever told Morgan Reynolds what to do?

But he did eventually slink over, blinking away a mixture of astonishment and confusion as he approached where Hayes sat on the edge of the bed.

“What?”

Hayes curled a hand around his shoulder and tugged him down a few inches until their mouths were nearly slotting together.

“Stop worrying,” Hayes murmured against Morgan’s lips.

He’d never have been this aggressive normally. He’d have believed that the hookup ended with their orgasms and wouldn’t have assumed Morgan wanted to chat or debrief—or even to cuddle—but then he’d lingered even though he had no reason to stay.

Except if he wanted to.

“I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are,” Hayes interrupted again. This time he gave Morgan a soft peck. Not sexual, just comforting. Unsurprisingly Morgan didn’t fight him and finally softened underneath his touch.

“You get it,” Morgan mumbled. “I’m . . .I’m me. And if I don’t . . .”

Morgan didn’t finish his sentence but he didn’t have to, because yeah, Hayes did get it. Probably better than almost anyone else.

“Yeah,” Hayes agreed, “and if that happens, we’ll cross that bridge. But there’s no point in angsting over something that hasn’t happened yet. Worrying isn’t going to change anything. It’s only going to make you miserable, and I don’t like you when you’re miserable.”

Morgan barked out a soft laugh. “No?”

“No, you make everyone else miserable too.”

Morgan didn’t argue. Just stood there for a minute in silence, letting Hayes slip his fingers underneath his sweatshirt, humming as he stroked the skin between his neck and his shoulder.

Finally, he straightened. Hayes wanted to snatch him back, but he looked calmer now, and it was late. There was no reason for him to stay any longer.

“Thanks,” Morgan said, his voice rough around the edges.

“Any time,” Hayes said with a smile.

Morgan, already half-turning to head towards the door, turned back. “You mean that?”

Hayes let his smile widen. Say everything he didn’t necessarily know how to say with words—or maybe he did know, but he knew Morgan wasn’t going to be able to hear them. “Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”