Page 12

12

LEVI

I couldn’t focus on a damn thing that day.

Barrett promised that he’d get Stetson lunch before seeing him off to practice, and I knew I’d see them both that night. I had so much work to do that I sadly had to decline invitations to both dinner and Stetson’s game. Though as I sat in front of my computer, one frustrating email away from smashing my head to the keyboard, I regretted that decision.

I abandoned endless emails in favor of watching footage of a college player from Memphis I was set to meet in a couple weeks, but even his impressive skills weren’t enough to keep my mind from wandering.

Waiting for the front door to open was painstaking. I glanced at the clock—barely nine-thirty. I knew not to expect Stetson until close to midnight. That was if he even chose to come to my house at all. He did have a place of his own, after all. Though I selfishly wanted him in my bed.

Finally, the front door opened. As usual, he straightened up the kitchen before heading upstairs.

I didn’t particularly enjoy having my office on the second floor, but sometimes it was the only way I could leave work behind and get some decent sleep.

Happy to give it up for the evening, I closed everything down before Barrett could even knock. “Come in.”

The door crept open and Barrett stepped inside. Even after a decade together, the man never failed to make my heart flutter. “You’re still working?”

“Just stopped. It was the only thing I could do to distract myself. How was dinner?”

“Fine.” He bit the inside of his cheek, shoving his hands in his back pockets and pulling his shirt tight across his broad chest. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

Barrett stepped between my splayed legs, situating himself between my thighs. I knocked his hands out of his pockets, clenching tight onto his ass. He stifled a moan as I kneaded the taut flesh, letting his head drop back. “I won’t be able to tell you if you don’t let me think straight.”

I rested my chin against his belly, peering up at him through my lashes. “I’m not doing anything.”

Barrett cracked an eye open and smirked at me. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Well I can’t latch onto your hair from down here so I have to grab something .”

“I can’t believe Stetson figured that out.”

“Just makes two of us that can tease you now.” I gave his cheeks a squeeze. “What’s your idea?”

He leaned over, licking into my mouth before trailing his hot, wet tongue down my neck. Finally, his knees kissed the carpet. “Think you can manage to hold your phone steady through an orgasm?”

“I can sure as hell try.” I twisted my fingers through Barrett’s hair and he damn near purred. “What’s your plan?”

He snatched my phone from the desk and thrust it into my palm. “You wanted to discipline your boy for acting out last night, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I have a better idea than a spanking.” Lust thickened his voice. “Start recording.”

Barrett’s hands slipped under my shirt, pushing the fabric up my chest. I hit record, and he tossed the garment to the floor. The dim lamplight painting the room was just enough to see. My hand already trembled, but I squeezed my phone tight. Barrett on his knees was a gorgeous image, and he was right: Stetson missing out would be the perfect punishment.

Barrett undid my belt, letting it fall to the sides. Popping the button, he spread the denim apart with his hands. When prompted, I lifted my hips so he could slide them off and throw them aside. With only my boxer briefs separating us now, Barrett mouthed over the dampened cotton. I was already hard as a rail—typical when Barrett walked into a room.

“Come on, baby,” I breathed, combing through Barrett’s thick, wavy locks. “Don’t make me wait.”

He hooked his fingers behind my waistband and tugged, pulling my underwear off my legs. The way my cock sprung free was almost comical, but we were too turned on to find anything funny about it. Barrett steadied me with a fist at the base of my shaft, and I hissed at the contact. He licked his lips, mouth watering. Lust-filled hazel eyes gazed up at me, silently begging for permission. I made sure the camera captured that glossy-eyed stare.

“Go ahead.”

Barrett traced the vein along the underside of my cock, sucking the head into his mouth. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive skin, dipping into my slit for a deeper taste. His hand stroked upward with a firm squeeze, milking more clear liquid out of me. He moaned as the taste hit his tongue.

My head fell back against the chair, eyes heavy, but I refused to let them shut. The sight in front of me was too stunning to miss.

Barrett took his time, sucking me deeper down his throat. The noises he made were music to my ears. Saliva dripped down my length in the dirtiest, sexiest way possible. I wiggled lower in the chair and spread my legs. My hips bucked, and Barrett coughed. As incentive to keep going, I softly brushed through his hair, then clenched onto a thick fistful.

“Come on,” I encouraged, urging his head forward. “I know you can take more than that.”

The next time his cheeks hollowed out, he dropped his hand and swallowed me to the hilt, coughing around his gag reflex. I spat a curse. A low hum of satisfaction vibrated my skin. Barrett hooked his hand behind my left knee, pushing back until my foot rested on the chair. He then brought that hand to my mouth, pushing two fingers against my lips. He sucked my cock, and I returned the gesture to his fingers. I swirled my tongue around them, making sure they were nice and wet before he withdrew from my mouth with a pop .

He wasted no time dipping slick fingers between my legs. He teased around my eager hole and I sighed, waiting on the muscles to relax.

“ Fuck .” He’d just pushed through. I had a death grip around the phone now, making sure it stayed in place. My entire body shook, my back arched off the chair. For a second, I squeezed my eyes shut and succumbed to the pleasure before prying them open again. I readjusted the angle, then tilted my hips to give Barrett easier access.

I didn’t bottom very often but damn, Barrett never failed to remind me how much I loved it. He worked slow, pulling off occasionally to spit onto his fingers. Saliva dribbled over my balls and down my taint, and he replaced his mouth over my cock. Everything was hot and wet. The air was thick and it was sending my body into overdrive.

By the time he had both fingers deep inside me and his nose buried in my crotch, I was at the end of my rope, and it hadn’t even been five minutes. Then Barrett crooked his fingers, found that magic little bundle of nerves. My hips jack-knifed toward the feeling. Barrett choked and I cried out, alternating between thrusting forward to fuck his mouth and spearing myself onto his fingers. When that all too familiar chill crept down my spine, I managed to turn on the flash.

“Don’t swallow,” I instructed, voice hoarse.

I didn’t have to tell Barrett I was close. When my balls drew up and I tightened my fist in his hair, I leaned into the orgasm. My thighs trembled. My heart raced. I gave into the need to let my eyes shut. Barrett coughed around me, the first drops of my release hitting his tongue. I shot again, feeling it trickle out of his mouth and down my shaft, pooling in my groin and dripping down to the chair. With each pulse, I loosened my grip on Barrett. Still reeling from aftershocks, I pried my eyes open. Barrett wore a faint grin on his dick-swollen lips.

It widened into a smile as he sat back on his heels, wiping the come off his mouth, then licking his hand free. I ended the recording, letting my phone clatter to the floor. I fisted Barrett’s t-shirt, pulling him into a messy kiss.

“Are you okay?” I asked when I came up for air.

He nodded, lips brushing mine. “Stetson likes being watched.” He swallowed, panting in an effort to catch his breath. “Tell him to text you when he gets in the shower after the game, then send him that video. What happens next, I’ll leave up to you.”

I smiled, pride filling my chest that—combined with the effort of remembering how to breathe—was ready to burst. “God damn I love you,” I snarled, tugging him to his feet. I stood on wobbly legs, and shoved him down in the chair that nearly tipped backward under his weight. “Switch.”