Page 39 of Catching Kyle (Football Heartthrobs #1)

I press my forehead against his. “I’m sorry you gotta deal with a lug like me,” I say. “I know this isn’t easy for you, me being so guarded and all.”

“It isn’t,” he admits, which brings on more tears. But I’m glad he’s being honest.

We hold each other there, and I feel myself hardening. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I think I know one thing for certain right now.

I do not want to lose Michael Cunningham.

“I got an idea for a vacation,” I say.

Even in the dark, I can see Michael’s face brighten. “What’s that?”

There’s only one place I really love to go when it’s fall. It’s practically winter up here in Portland, but down south, the weather couldn’t be better. The trees are all multi-colored, and the air has that crisp smell of fire burning.

“Glamour Springs, where my ma lives, is beautiful this time of year,” I say. “People know me there, but it’s isolated enough where you and I could walk around. Together. How does that sound?”

Our chests so close together, I can feel Michael’s heartrate speed up.

“That sounds perfect,” he says. “We’d be spending Thanksgiving with your mom, right? Does she know about us?”

Us.

My ma does not know about my secret boyfriend.

I’ve never really told her that I’m gay, either.

But something tells me that she knows. I’ve been reluctant to say anything to anyone I know, lest they get interviewed and out my secret.

Best to wait until after the Championship Game.

Nonetheless, I can’t think of anyone better for Michael to spend the holiday with. And I think I’d like her to meet him.

“She doesn’t,” I say. “But that doesn’t matter. I want you to meet her anyways.”

Michael’s face dampens a little, making my chest tighten. He’s disappointed.

“Sorry,” I say. “I just haven’t told many people I know. I’m waiting until—”

“It’s fine,” Michael says. “I get it.”

We lay there silently, my arms around him and his fingers running through my chest hair. By now, both of us are too alert to fall back asleep. My erection has been pressed hard against his leg, but I steadily feel his harden against my belly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Michael says, shrinking into himself. He always does this when he feels bad about something, and it hurts me.

“Michael,” I say. “I don’t want you to feel bad about talking to me about these things, or even asking me when I don’t want to talk about it. It shows you care. And that’s what I love about you.”

He sighs and nuzzles into my chest. “I know,” he says. “Sometimes it’s just hard.”

I kiss him on the top of his head. “I know, baby. I know.”

We lay like this until he’s so rock hard that he’s dry humping my belly.

“I’ve given you enough grief,” I say, unwrapping my arms. “Let me take care of this.”

“What?” he asks, almost bewildered.

But then he moans in relief as I wrap my lips around his cock.

I suck him thoughtfully for a while, his hands feeling all over my body.

I release his dick from my mouth. “I know what you need,” I say. I hoist one of my legs over his head and hover my ass just over his face.

“Oh, yes,” he says, desperately. “Oh, fuck yes.”

“Eat up,” I say as he buries his face in me. “I know how much you like my post-game ass. ”

He lets out an agonized moan as his tongue probes me and his nose takes in my scent. “It’s divine,” he says. “It gets better every time.”

And that’s when I get to sucking. I want to get my hand involved, but I don’t want to lose my balance and break Michael’s flow. I want to give him all the pleasure I can.

“So close,” he says.

I let go. “Already?” I ask in a playfully mocking tone. “You’ve barely even started.”

I engulf his dick with my mouth once more, and he loses it. His hot load floods my mouth as he goes feral for my hole, like I’m the only thing he’s eaten in days.

I keep him in my mouth until I’ve swallowed every drop and his dick goes limp. His head relaxes, and unmount myself. When I lean up onto my knees, I realize how engrossed I was in Michael’s pleasure. Because I’m just now noticing how I’m rock-hard and dripping precum.

“I want it,” Michael says.

“You want me to fuck your face?” I say. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“Please,” he says, squirming. “I need it, sir.”

I smile. “Of course you do.”

I reach down and pin his arms above my head. Then I place my knees on either side of him, pinning his arms in place. I put one of my hands on his wrists to keep them clamped down for good measure.

And then I put my dick into Michael’s hot mouth.

He starts sucking, but he doesn’t have much mobility. And I know how much he loves it when I take control. So I grab hold of his hair and pull him back and forth.

“My little fleshlight,” I say, smirking.

He moans, almost gagging as I move his head, my dick going in and out of his mouth.

I had seen him and other guys do this position in videos, but I had never imagined I would be doing it.

And the first time he requested it, I felt bad.

Like I was hurting him, taking advantage of him.

But after much of his insistence, I gave in.

And seeing how turned on he gets, it’s now one of my favorite positions.

“I don’t think you really like it,” I say.

Michael moans and starts moving his lips and tongue more, doing anything he can to make my dick feel good.

“That’s what I like,” I say. I let go, lean forward, then thrust my dick into his mouth. He gags, his hands squirming. But he hasn’t used our safe signal—three taps against the bedframe—so I know he’s loving it.

I glance behind me and see that his dick his hard again. “Greedy boy,” I say. “You want to cum again? With my dick in your mouth?”

He stops and nods with the most determined expression I’ve ever seen.

I lean back, and he sits slightly up. I free his hands, and they clutch my thighs as he starts moving his head back and forth on my dick. I reach back and start stroking his dick.

We stay in this equilibrium for a while. My eyes adjusted to the dark, I stare down at him as he greedily swallows me. His hands run up my thighs, my belly, my chest. He clutches my pecs, then starts thumbing my nipples.

“Oh, my god,” I say, frozen.

And he smirks up at me, still sucking.

“You’ve found my weak spot,” I say. “Holy shit.”

I lean forward and thrust into his mouth, letting go of his dick and taking full control.

Michael Cunningham, the man who knows how to turn me on. Who knows what to say. Who is always patient with me. Kind with me. There’s no way in hell I’m letting him go. Hell, I might even just quit in the middle of the season. Just so I can be with him.

No, I won’t do that.

But I will make it to the end. ‘Til after the Championship Game. And then we won’t have to be a secret anymore.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” I say. “Don’t fucking stop.”

He keeps fiddling with my nipples, his tongue and mouth pure ecstasy on my dick .

And then I let out the fattest load.

I pin Michael’s sweaty forehead down as I thrust my spurting dick into his mouth, letting out a low, inhuman groan.

Once I’m all out, I sit there on Michael’s chest, my own chest heaving and sweat dripping down my body. I would get up, but Michael now has his arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me in place, with my entire shaft down his throat.

He moves one of his arms under my leg, down to his dick, and starts stroking. He looks up at me, my cock still deep in his mouth, his eyes shining with pleasure. I pull my cock out for a moment, and Michael balks at me.

“Patience,” I say. I take the spit and cum on my dick, lean back, and lube Michael’s dick up with it.

And then he greedily puts my dick back into his mouth like it’s his pacifier.

“Now cum again for me,” I command.

And it doesn’t take him long. Once he’s finished, I grab a towel and clean us both up. Then, both of us sufficiently exhausted, we get back in bed and I hold him tightly in my arms once again.

I kiss him gently on the neck as I feel sleep taking me on.

“I can’t wait for Thanksgiving,” he says.

I breathe him in, then sigh contentedly. “Me too.”