Page 31 of Full Split (Forbidden Goals #8)

NILES

Wyatt’s throwing a backyard BBQ to celebrate us heading to Worlds. It doubles as a birthday party for me, since I’ll turn twenty-one in Belgium.

The weather is gorgeous after several days of near-constant rain. There’s good food and music, and tons of friends all having a great time. I should be having a great time, too. I should be happy.

Instead, I’m getting frustrated plotting how to corner Wyatt and get him alone. It’s been seven and a half days since we’ve been together, and I’m losing my mind.

I’ve gone months without getting laid before. And it didn’t bother me too much, especially when I was keeping myself busy. But now? Now that I’ve got Wyatt’s gorgeous, surprisingly filthy mouth available?

I’m suffering .

I was getting so used to getting off daily, a week feels like withdrawal.

It’s not just the sex. It’s also just being alone with him. Talking, really talking, and getting to know him on a whole other level. The talking was what was doing the most towards all the progress we were making.

It’s taken him longer to get comfortable enough with our new dynamic.

He’s afraid that what we’re doing is wrong.

Not because he’s been my coach. Not even because of the age difference.

It’s all because I’m Weston’s best friend.

Someone he’s known since childhood. It doesn’t matter how much I tell and show him I’m an adult, who is perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

It doesn’t matter that I’m the one who demanded—hell, practically forced—him to see me this way.

I was finally getting him right where I wanted him—on all fours and begging for it—then my so-called best friend had to cock-block me for the last two days we had before we had to leave for Worlds prep training because he’s allergic to fucking cats.

On top of that, since his girlfriend is busy with the start of a brand-new semester, he hasn’t left me or Wyatt alone for more than five minutes since we got home the day before yesterday.

Every time I get close to Wyatt, someone gets in my way.

First, Sid intercepts him, dragging him into a long conversation about some new promotional material for the gym.

Then someone knocks over a whole platter of cupcakes.

I help him clean up the mess just to have a reason to be close to him, then follow him to the trash cans when he goes to throw out the mess.

The moment we turn the corner, I don’t even attempt to pretend I followed him out here for anything else. I’m just about to lean in, hoping at least to steal a kiss, when someone shouts his name from the patio.

I pout. He groans.

When Weston comes around the corner, I glare at him. He doesn’t notice, leaning in to whisper something into Wyatt’s ear. Whatever it’s about, Wyatt tenses, nods, and walks towards the front of the house.

I pull Weston to the side to ask him what’s going on, but before I can get anything out of him, there’s a commotion. My mom is carrying out a giant cake and everyone starts singing.

Fucking hell.

Finally, I make up an excuse to pull Wyatt aside. I grab his wrist, drag him inside the house, and shove him straight into the guest bathroom.

He blinks, confused.

Then I lock the door.

“Niles—”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t?—”

“Can’t what?”

“Niles, we’ll get caught.”

“You’re really cute when you try to be responsible.” I kiss him. Hard. Then push him against the door. I know he’s missed me too, because he can’t resist me. His mouth moves under mine automatically.

I reach for his belt.

“Niles.”

“Shut up,” I tell him, nipping and then licking his bottom lip.

He doesn’t stop me.

Wyatt always tries to go first when we meet up for quickies or make out sessions like this.

It’s his thing. He likes getting me off and then running away like it’s some kind of victory.

At first it was because he felt guilty and was proving to himself that he wasn’t taking advantage of me or some shit. But not this time.

This time, he’s the one leaving this bathroom on wobbly legs.

I drop to my knees, tearing his shorts and underwear down his thighs on my way. Before he can say another word, I fist the base of his cock and shove it so far down my throat he chokes.

I go down on him like I’m on a mission, alternating between deep throating and pumping the base of his cock with my fist while I suck on the sensitive head.

I love the way his knees shake whenever I do that.

It’s sloppy. Wet. And not exactly quiet.

Between the wet sounds of suction, my moaning, and his panting breaths, it’s a cacophony of bliss in the small room.

He tries to hold back. He always tries. But I can tell he’s close. He’s breathing hard, gripping the sink like it’s all that’s keeping him standing. My finger moves to the back of his sack, then?—

Knock knock knock

We both freeze.

“Dad? Niles?”

Wyatt goes pale and holds his breath.

I grin.

“Few more minutes!” I call sweetly.

“Have you seen my dad?”

“I think he went upstairs to do some breathing exercises or something. He seemed tense about something, not sure what.”

Weston curses under his breath. “Alright, thanks. I’ll go check on him. Are you alright in there?”

“Hmm?” I say, licking a broad stroke up the underside of Wyatt’s cock.

“I said are you okay? It sounded like someone was hyperventilating in there.”

“Nope, all good. Just, um… You know. Poopin’.”

Wyatt covers his face with both hands. I think he might be turning purple. Almost the same shade as the head of his dick right now, actually. It’s a pretty color. I want to paint my room the exact shade…

“You could have used an upstairs bathroom, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

There’s a long pause where I proceed to start bobbing up and down on Wyatt’s cock again.

“Well alright. I’m gonna go check on my dad.”

I glance up at the man in question as I make a sound of affirmation, muffled around his cock.

Wyatt’s trying to hold his breath and hold back at the same time. His expression’s somewhere between horror and orgasm.

If he wasn’t about to come, he’d probably strangle me.

Finally, Weston leaves.

And Wyatt falls apart.

A little after eight that night, I tell my mom goodnight.

I’m dressed casually in skinny jeans, a loose tank, and my favorite flannel tied around my waist. Just enough to look like I’m going out. When Mom asks, I tell her I’m just going to go hang out with some friends and that I might crash overnight.

She nods, tells me to stay safe. Reminds me she’ll be home late tomorrow because there’s a company dinner after work.

Perfect.

I leave my car in the driveway. Most of the time I call a rideshare or get someone to pick me up if I can, so it’s not suspicious that I don’t take it. And it’s only a short walk to Wyatt’s house.

Even though I’ve got a key, I knock.

When he opens the door, he’s in pajama pants, barefoot, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He’s not wearing a shirt, and it looks like he might have recently gotten out of the shower.

I almost purr.The way I want to nuzzle myself into his chest hair and hump his leg, I might as well be a cat. Do cats hump legs?

“Do you always answer the door looking like a slut?”

He grunts around the toothbrush. “Normally I ignore the door. But since someone wasn’t answering their texts…”

I smirk. The moment I got his message that Weston went home with Aimee after the party, I started walking this way.

As soon as the door closes, I start stripping.

“What, no hello?”

“Hello. Get naked.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

In case he needed more persuading, I walk over to him and reach into the front of his pajama pants, grab his dick, and use it like a leash to guide him to his own bedroom.

“Jesus Christ.”

When we walk through the threshold, I take the toothbrush from his mouth and toss through the open bathroom door, in the vague direction of the sink because I don’t take my eyes off him.

I get impatient with the tie on his pajamas and end up yanking them down.

Once I rid him of his pants, I push him back on the bed and then crawl up between his legs.

Like earlier today, I take him straight into the back of my throat, but this time I do it so slowly he looks like he might cry.

I suck him in long, slow, firm pulls like I’m drinking a thick milkshake through a thin straw, until he’s painfully rigid and spit is flowing down his shaft and over his balls in rivulets. I follow the stream and tickle my fingers up the cleft of his ass, and he shivers.

“Turn over,” I tell him. He looks wary, but he complies.

His glutes flex when I spread his cheeks apart, and he jumps in surprise at the first pass of my tongue over his hole, but he relaxes into it quickly enough.

Before long, he’s gasping and moaning, pushing back on my tongue and rutting into the comforter.

I sit up, pressing my thumb against his softened hole.

“Look at that,” I say, only half kidding. I enjoy getting him all flustered, but damn if I’m not enjoying the view. “Such a pretty little hole for such a big man.”

“Niles—”

“ Mmmhmm ?”

“Do you have to tease me?”

“It’s not a tease, Daddy. I like looking at you. I like looking at your pretty hole getting all hot and soft and ready for me.”

More than his body is ready for me, it seems. When I look up, I notice some of the items we purchased at the sex shop last week are laid out on the night stand, and something else. That’s not the harness we bought.

“What is this?” I ask, moving from the bed to look at what he got.

He reaches for a silicone cock lying next to the harness and hands it to me. It’s warm and soft in my hand, incredibly realistic in detail as well as the feel of it. The skin even moves, and it’s smooth like skin rather than rubbery and hard.

“I read that this brand and type of prosthetic is really popular. It fits over your dick like a sleeve, so it’s more like an extender, and it allows the wearer to experience pleasure at the same time?—”

“I know what it is,” I say. I’ve seen prosthetics similar to this, but nowhere near this realistic. “These are really expensive.”

The whole lot that we’d bought from the sex store was pretty expensive, but we’d decided that we would choose everything new together and he insisted on buying everything I showed a remote interest in.

“They have really good reviews, and I talked to?—”

I cut him off by tackling him with a long, deep kiss. I’m almost tempted to ask him to fuck me first, because I’m suddenly desperate to feel him, but he pulls back.

“I’m ready,” he says against my mouth. “I want you to fuck me with your big dick and come in my ass.”

My heart stops.