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Chapter twenty-two

Axel

W inning an event always pumps me full of adrenalin, but winning with my man here watching, that’s a whole other level.

It’s so fucking incredible to have him to hold onto in this moment instead of fist bumping the guys on my crew.

Sharing this with him gives it so much more meaning.

Not that it wasn’t important before, but my crew is paid to be here.

They contribute to my success and are genuinely happy to be part of it, and I’m grateful to have them with me.

But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re just as much employees as they are friends. Well, except for Jace.

Lennon is different. His sole purpose for being here is to support me, and that support is almost better than the win itself. I never thought I’d say that about a guy. I never thought I’d say that period. But for the first time ever, the win doesn’t feel like the prize. He does.

I can’t escape talking to the reporters—my least favorite part of this job—but with my arm around Lennon’s waist and him staring at me with pride while I answer a bunch of questions about my performance, I’m still flying high.

Not even the borderline invasive inquiries about Lennon can bring me down since I rehearsed what I’d say, and the only thing the reporters get from me is he’s my boyfriend.

I don’t dignify any other questions about my sexuality with an answer.

After standing on the podium to get my medal, which I barely remember because I was so busy staring at my man, we come back to the trailers for the obligatory after party.

It’s not much, just a few drinks with the guys around a small campfire in our little corner of the pit area, but it’s perfect because Lennon sits on my lap most of the time.

He’s clearly not one for PDA, and I know I pushed his limits with the kisses before and after my run, so the fact he tolerated that and still didn’t object when I pulled him on my lap… I’m way past gone for this man.

As soon as we can make our exit without offending anyone, I pull him inside my trailer and pin him against the door, brushing my thumb over his soft, full lips. “You’ve been awfully quiet this evening.”

“Just taking it all in, I guess. Is it always like this?” He looks at me with a mixture of curiosity and wonder.

“Like what?”

“Win, party, repeat.”

“I only win, like, ninety percent of the time.” I plant tiny kisses along his jaw.

He smacks my arm. “And here I thought you actually looked humble after you won.”

“I felt humble.” I can’t stop myself from giving him a quick kiss when his lips part just slightly.

“What happened today was years in the making. There were months and months of training to nail each of those tricks, not counting time off for sprains and breaks and hospital stays when I screwed up. And there’ve been a whole team of people along the way who made today possible.

I’ve got a certain amount of natural talent, but they helped develop it.

I wouldn’t be here otherwise. So yeah, every time I win is humbling. ”

I’m not sure if it’s his eyes that are glassy or mine, because he’s got me all fucking nostalgic.

“The first time I saw you I assumed your insides would be just as hardened as your outsides—” he traces a finger across my chest, over my heart “—but your insides are pretty soft. I think that’s what I like best about you.” He gifts me with the most sincere smile I think I’ve ever seen.

“Know what I like best about you?” He shakes his head. “Your smile. It's infectious. Anyone who sees it can’t help but smile back, like you’ve made their fucking day.”

“You don’t,” he whispers.

“That’s because your smile melts me, and it’s all I can do to remember how to breathe. For the longest time I watched you give that smile to your friends, your customers, and the day you finally gave it to me is the day I realized I didn’t want to let you go.”

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen Lennon speechless, and while it’s not really a goal of mine to elicit that reaction, I won’t deny that seeing his wide brown eyes blink because he doesn’t have the words does something to me on a cellular level.

Placing my hands under his ass, I lift him off the ground and guide his legs around my waist so I can carry him to the bed. He stares into my eyes the whole time, and for some reason that hits me harder than anything else that’s happened between us.

Setting him gently on the mattress, I hover over him and will my breathing to hold steady as I make my request. “Fuck me?”

For the second time tonight, Lennon is at a loss for words. I’m too nervous for his response to gloat about that .

“Are you sure?”

Cupping his face in my hand, I stroke my thumb over his cheek. “Yes.”

I press my lips to his when his mouth opens on a gasp, teasing my tongue along his as a satisfied groan rumbles from my chest. He opens for me with a contented sigh, threading his fingers through my hair as he pulls me closer.

My body follows, resting comfortably on his as we lose ourselves in each other.

Despite the pressure in my balls, I’m in no hurry to take things further, which is both strange and oddly satisfying.

Strange because I’ve never been into kissing before and satisfying because I suddenly can’t seem to get enough.

The friction between our lips and tongues, the warm air passing between us, the barely uttered whimpers and moans of pleasure, they combine and leave me feeling whole in a way I’ve never felt.

Before I can think through the pros and cons of admitting my feelings, they’re echoing around us.

“I love you, Lennon.”

He inhales sharply, his mouth parting despite no breath moving in or out. I kiss the stupor off his lips and go for broke. “I love you.”

Lennon’s eyes are focused on my mouth when I pull back to gauge his reaction. “I…I…” he starts, licking his bottom lip before taking another shaky breath.

I slip my fingers under his chin and tip it up, forcing him to meet my gaze. “I know. It wasn’t easy for me to say either, but it’s true.” I give him another tender kiss and lift myself off his body so I can take off his clothes.

Shocked, Lennon does little more than shift his weight as I undress him, but I continue undeterred.

He may not have given me the words, but seeing him so flustered is evidence that he feels the same.

I know it in my bones, and knowing that is all I need right now.

I plan to spend the rest of the night enjoying what we both recognize is the start of something incredible.

Just as I free him from another pair of lacy briefs, in my favorite color no less, Lennon seems to regain some of his composure.

Lurching up, he flips us so I’m flat on my back, tearing my shirt off before going to work on my shorts.

He peppers my stomach with open mouth kisses along the waistband of my shorts as he undoes them, licking lower as he peels them off.

“Have you ever… Like with a toy or…” he trails off as his eyes find mine up the length of my body.

I shake my head once, firmly.

He reaches for the lube, and my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest when I notice his hands shaking. A sudden, shocking thought occurs to me. “Have you?”

This time it’s Lennon who shakes his head curtly. “Not with another man. I’ve topped women, but I’ve only ever bottomed with men.”

“Would you rather not top? I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to—"

“I do,” he says softly. “It’s just that no one’s ever asked me to before.”

“Why?”

“A man in a skirt screams bottom, I think.” Lennon gives me a timid smile, and I’m sorely tempted to haul him up and wrap him in my arms, holding him to me so he knows how grateful I am we’ll be sharing this first together.

But he gets my crown in his mouth before I decide to move, and the sweet suction is so divine I can do little more than groan with pleasure.

Lennon’s mouth is absolute heaven.

Hot .

Wet.

Gentle yet not delicate.

Savoring.

I swear the man turns blow jobs into an art form. The unpredictable mix of licking, sucking and kissing is an erotic tease I’d happily suffer until his jaw gives out or he finishes me, whichever comes first, so I relax into the bed, accepting my fate.

Then I feel it. The gentle pressure against my entrance as his fingertip probes my virgin hole, and my body tenses involuntarily.

“Focus on my mouth.” He licks a stripe up my shaft. “And how it feels on your dick.” He slurps at my crown before damn near swallowing my entire length, and it’s only as I’m watching his lips pull off my cock that I notice the sense of fullness in my ass.

Clenching around the intrusion, I gasp when I realize I can feel it moving.

“Okay?” Lennon asks.

I wriggle my hips, testing where I feel his finger. “Yeah.”

“Focus on my mouth,” Lennon reminds me, swallowing my shaft as his finger starts a slow retreat, only to press further inside.

Truthfully, I don’t love the sensation, but I don’t hate it either.

At times there’s almost a hint of pleasure, though it’s fleeting.

There and gone before I can fully appreciate it.

Then Lennon adds another finger, and I feel them curling inside me.

My hips thrust up so fast he gags around my cock, which I can’t even apologize for since I’m moaning so loud.

“This is why I’ve never complained about being on the bottom.” He rubs that spot again, and my body jolts almost violently.

“Holy shit,” I pant as his finger stills. “That’s… Do I make you feel that? ”

“Every time.” He plants a chaste kiss to the inside of my thigh before stroking me again, and even though I know to expect it, it’s still hard to keep my body from thrashing when he hits that spot. No, not thrashing. Straining. Chasing more of the delicious friction.