Page 42 of Breakaway Goals

The other part rolled over and hoped, desperately, that Morgan would take pity on him and make it that good. Give him everything he’d wanted on all those lonely, silent nights.

“Come on,” Hayes begged.

Morgan didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t make him ask again. Just swallowed him in his mouth, tongue flicking out, curling around the head. Making Hayes sweat.

He’d definitely been tipsy before the kiss. But now he felt stone-cold sober. Sober and desperate, like he was already holding on to control by the tips of his fingernails.

It probably wasn’t even the best, most expert blowjob he’d ever gotten, but none of that mattered.

It was lighting him up that this was Morgan.

That for once, he didn’t have to imagine and fantasize and pretend.

It was Morgan’s hair he was curling his fingers into.

Morgan’s face lifting towards his, the heat in his eyes searing Hayes.

Then Morgan curled a hand around Hayes’ thigh and squeezed, drifting lower. Brushed a thumb against his hole. Hayes made a garbled noise full of nonsense.

“What’s that, baby? You want something?”

Hayes knew what he wanted.

He’d have died of shame before asking for it even six hours ago, but he’d not only run out of give-a-fucks, he’d decided to embrace the crawl of humiliation up his spine.

What did it matter, if he could feel this again?

“I want you to fuck me,” Hayes slurred out.

Morgan froze, mouth curling around the tip of Hayes’ cock, thumb barely nudging his hole.

“You heard me,” Hayes said when Morgan said nothing. Just stared at him with shock.

Not bad shock. Just . . . shock shock.

“You mean that?” Morgan whispered.

Hayes laughed, a little hysterically. “Yes, fuck, yes . God, let me up. My bedroom—” He broke off. Laughed again.

Morgan lifted himself with a curse and held out a hand to Hayes.

They both stumbled a bit as he finally came upright.

“You okay?” Hayes said, still chuckling under his breath.

He didn’t let go of Morgan’s hand as he dragged him into the house.

Then through the living room, the kitchen, down the hallway.

Until he opened the door to his suite and tugged Morgan inside.

Pushed him down onto the bed.

Having his whole body covered by Morgan’s had felt fucking unreal. But climbing onto him, perching on those incredible thighs, getting to see his face as he gazed at Hayes? That was resolve-melting.

He was right back at anything Morgan wants, he can have.

“Shit, baby, you look so good. Like . . .” Morgan gusted out a sigh. Sounding in awe or something very like it. It made Hayes’ dick twitch. His heart clench. “Like an angel, right here for me.”

“Yeah?” Hayes wiggled on his cock, feeling it hard and eager beneath him.

“God, so good. So beautiful. Imagined you like this. Feel heavenly. Look even better. Better than I could’ve thought. Meant it. A fucking angel.”

It was overwhelming. Hayes rucked up Morgan’s T-shirt and pressed a palm against his abs, his ribs.

Wiggling harder. He was going to end up coming against Morgan’s shorts, when that wasn’t what he wanted.

But if Morgan kept running his mouth, his dirty talk so unbelievably hot and unexpectedly romantic, he wasn’t going to end up having a choice.

“Want you just like this.” The words slipped out of Hayes’ mouth like a prayer. So serious. Too serious, probably.

But it was impossible to consider the implications of that right now. Not when Morgan was settling one hand on his hip and the other was gripping his cock. Giving it a much-needed twist of his wrist.

“Fuck, so good,” Morgan had the nerve to say. Like he was the one getting touched. The one getting dragged to the edge.

“Want you to be naked,” Hayes said and tried to shove Morgan’s pants off without even bothering to get off his lap.

It was hard and more than a little frustrating and Morgan kept half-laughing, half-marveling at him as he did it.

But then he let out a solid moan when Hayes had finally accomplished it, leaning forward, pressing his mouth against Morgan’s collarbone and then lifting his head to meet his mouth.

Their cocks brushed, precome making the slide a little easier, and Hayes swallowed Morgan’s groan.

“Need to see you,” Morgan begged against his mouth. “Let me see you, angel. Gonna come, just watching you like this.”

The sex they’d had in Toronto had been hesitant, initially, but still hot. Hot enough to think about six years later. But this was a whole other level of honest mixed with a good dose of unhinged insanity, and Hayes’ head was spinning with it.

Hayes propped himself up again, missing Morgan’s mouth but this was good too.

Not just to see Morgan’s face, no longer just in his head, but in reality , but more because of the way Morgan looked at him.

Like all the polite indifference he’d worn since arriving in Tampa had been stripped away, and what Hayes was seeing in his eyes was how he really felt.

That look was almost enough to get Hayes all the way there. Then Morgan reached up and spit in his hand, and wrapped it around both of their cocks, and Hayes groaned at the feel.

At the way the pleasure pulled him right under, sent him reeling.

He was so close.

Then Morgan reached up and kissed him hard, murmuring against his mouth, “So beautiful, angel,” and that was the last piece he’d been missing.

His orgasm hit him hard, and a second later, Morgan tensed underneath him, and they were practically coming together.

Morgan fell back onto the bed, white streaks of come decorating his partially exposed torso.

For a moment, Hayes just stared.

That had really happened.

He wasn’t in a dream. He was really sitting here, on Morgan’s thighs, and they’d just both come their brains out.

Morgan was staring too, like he couldn’t quite believe it either.

Hayes wondered if he was going to have to be the one to break the silence, but then Morgan opened his mouth. “I didn’t . . .” He trailed off.

Well, it was too much to hope for him to say something that meant anything .

“Didn’t what?”

Morgan chuckled, then, his chest vibrating. “I didn’t come here for this. But this . . .” The look in his eyes was deadly earnest. “It was more than I could’ve hoped for.”

It was hard to stay still and see that look. Hayes was pretty sure he had to mean it, but then if that was true, why had it taken them six years to get here? Why had he ever left in the first place?

And what was going to stop him from not meaning it in a week?

Gingerly, Hayes slid off, not saying anything. He padded to the bathroom, not bothering to flick on a light. It wasn’t hard to clean up—only took a few swipes of a wet washcloth—and he came out with another one in his hand for Morgan.

If it had been six years ago, Hayes might have wiped him up himself. But there was a chasm between them still. A careful distance that he’d just crossed, but now he wasn’t sure. He handed it over to Morgan instead.

“What did you hope for?” Morgan asked, after he finished and then tossed it in the open hamper. He didn’t have to point out that only a week ago, Hayes had insisted—and wanted to mean it—that he didn’t want Morgan around.

Hayes shrugged. His heart felt too close to his throat; like he was five seconds away from word vomiting everything he’d spent all these years thinking.

That would be bad.

Lifting himself onto his elbows, Morgan shot him a look full of uncomfortable honesty. “Aren’t you going to tell me you regret it?”

He should . Zach was screaming in his ear that he absolutely, one hundred fucking percent regretted it. But he didn’t.

“No,” Hayes said. Realized it was the first thing he’d said since it ended. Since he’d supposedly lost his mind.

“I don’t,” Morgan said.

Hayes considered repeating what he’d said six years ago, that he couldn’t take scraps, but these had been very good scraps, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t regretted saying that a thousand times after the words had left his mouth.

Instead, he turned out the light. Pulled the covers back and settled onto the bed. Morgan didn’t exactly cuddle up close, but Hayes could feel the heat of him, impossible to ignore.

“You gonna kick me out?” Morgan asked, in a low voice.

“No,” Hayes said again. Apparently that was the only word he knew anymore.

And he fell asleep like that. Morgan, closer than he’d been in years, but still far away.