Page 45 of Breakaway Goals

“Just like this,” Morgan told him. Hayes’ eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as he began to push in.

His fingertips dug insistently into Morgan’s shoulders.

He was probably leaving marks, the bite of pain a counterpoint to the pleasure spreading through him at the hot clasp of Hayes’ body.

But it was obvious from the look on Hayes’ face that he was loving every second of this.

Then there were the little punched groans he kept making, like he’d never felt anything as good in his life as Morgan’s dick.

And Morgan’s dick agreed right back, because Hayes was an angel and he felt like straight up heaven inside.

So good, Morgan was probably not going to last.

“Faster. I know you can,” Hayes groaned, kicking at the back of Morgan’s thigh with his heel. “Fuck me like you mean it, baby.”

“I’m not gonna,” Morgan panted. Hayes felt way too fucking good, and then it was Hayes . Under him, around him, the taste of him on his lips, on his tongue.

“Me neither,” Hayes said, pushing himself up and kissing Morgan insistently.

Morgan lost it then, thrusting over and over like he could lose himself and that would be okay. It would be better than okay. It would be them, together, finally, and even though maybe their window of opportunity might’ve closed, it hadn’t because they were here right now.

“God,” Hayes cried out, angling his hips. Morgan pressed down harder, the slick head of Hayes’ cock rubbing against his abs, and then he clenched up and that was it. He was falling, falling, falling , but this time he wasn’t alone, Hayes was here, to catch him.

When he opened his eyes, still panting, there was something weirdly metallic on his tongue, and oh yeah, that was blood.

He glanced down and barked out a laugh. His teeth were imprinted right into Hayes’ perfect shoulder.

And Hayes was laughing too. Straight up giggling, like he was never going to stop.

“Baby,” he said breathless, “don’t worry, I’m definitely yours.”

“Sorry,” Morgan said, flustered. God, he’d just bitten Hayes.

“Don’t be.” Hayes grinned. “I liked it.”

“Yeah? It’s not gonna be a problem in the locker room?”

“I can’t exactly fine myself, right?” Hayes smirked.

“You could. Maybe you should .” It was shockingly easy to joke about it. Easy because he felt light and easy, filled with helium.

If he wasn’t pressed to Hayes, neck to thigh, he might just float away.

“Maybe I should,” Hayes mused, tucking his face into Morgan’s sweaty neck. “Can I . . .”

Morgan didn’t know what Hayes was asking for but the answer was straightforward. “Anything.”

Hayes chuckled again. Sounding just about as light as Morgan felt. “You don’t even know what it is!”

“Only because you didn’t tell me,” Morgan joked, running a hand up and down Hayes’ flank. “You gonna tell me?”

“Can I . . .” Hayes huffed out a laugh. “I feel stupid even asking. I love you, okay? I wanted to say it again.”

Morgan’s heart tripped again. He wasn’t used to hearing it. He definitely was not used to believing it. And he couldn’t do anything else, not when Hayes said it all breathless and eager and perfect like that.

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? I love you, too.” It was a fucking miracle, about a hundred miracles, one piled on top of another one, to be able to say it and not get immediately punched in the face for it.

Danny was going to tell him he’d used up the rest of his lifetime of luck on Hayes, and Morgan was going to tell him and believe it , that it was worth it. That Hayes was worth it, and if he’d had more, he’d have spent that luck, too.

“You just . . .I didn’t know if it was your kind of thing, but then you were so romantic before, saying all that stuff.

I couldn’t even believe it was coming out of your mouth.

” Hayes made a face and then buried his mouth in Morgan’s shoulder again.

“Ignore me, I’m sex stupid. Maybe I’m just stupid. ”

“No,” Morgan said. He pulled back a little, not letting Hayes hide from him. “Give me five. I’m gonna clean us up, and then we’re going to talk about this.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Morgan said firmly.

He didn’t want to leave either, but they were sweaty and covered in come and blood, too. Because apparently Morgan doubled as a caveman. Groaning under his breath, he finally pulled out and scrambled over the bed on the way to the bathroom.

Washed out his mouth. Did his own cleanup and then came back with a washcloth, not letting Hayes take it from him.

He’d made this mess, he’d clean it up.

When they were finally clean and tucked back in bed—and Morgan had insisted on finding some first aid cream and smearing it across his teeth marks on Hayes’ shoulder—Morgan said, “I know I was a shithead in Toronto.”

“Just in Toronto?” Hayes teased sleepily.

“Okay, not just in Toronto. After too, definitely. When I came to see you in New York, for sure.”

“I kicked you out, though.” Hayes nuzzled into Morgan’s shoulder.

“I was an ass before that,” Morgan muttered. They could spend the ten years going over every ass-like thing he’d done. The list was long. They might not ever exhaust it, but as long as he got this, it didn’t matter.

“When you stared at me like I didn’t even exist. Like you could see right through me, yeah,” Hayes said quietly. “Every time we faced off that game, I thought I was going to die. Just crawl off the ice and hide forever.”

Shame and guilt choked Morgan. It was hard to say anything, but he needed to.

He needed to . “It was the only way I could do it. The only way I could get through the game without, I don’t know .

. .” Danny had said he might fall to his knees at center ice and propose gay marriage, with dogs and picket fences and late brunches.

And maybe he’d been right. But that seemed like a lot to say, when they were still trying to figure out exactly what this looked like.

It was still fresh. Delicate. Newly repaired.

“Doing something crazy?”

“Yeah.” That sufficed. Hayes understood . Morgan took a deep breath. “Exactly.”

“That . . .that makes sense. I hated it at the time. Every time it happened after that, but I get it.”

“You don’t think you did it, but you did. After that game, you did it to me, too.”

“Thought I could give you a taste of your own medicine. But I didn’t mean it.” Hayes tucked his face into Morgan’s bicep. “Never meant it.”

“I didn’t either, angel.”

For a long moment Hayes was quiet, and Morgan thought maybe he’d fallen back asleep. Which would be perfectly okay with him. Falling asleep with Hayes in his arms would be the best thing that had happened to him in forever.

But then he said, so quietly Morgan barely heard it, “You were really going to come to Florida tell me you wanted me?”

“Had the trip booked. The speech rehearsed.”

“What was the speech?”

“Something along the lines of I’m an asshole, but I’m your asshole ,” Morgan said.

Hayes laughed, which had been exactly the idea. “Seriously?”

“It was something like what you heard tonight. Probably this was a little better. Had more time. Was more desperate.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

“Also . . .you’re not an asshole.”

“Not to you.”

“Not really at all, you just like to say it, probably because everyone always says it to you,” Hayes said. “But even then . . .I don’t want you to change. I like you just as you are.”

“Really?” It felt too good to be true, but then Hayes as an entire entity had always felt too good to be true.

“Always,” Hayes murmured and a second later, Morgan heard a gentle snore rumble through him.

He tightened his arm around Hayes and let sleep take him, too.