Page 7

SEVEN

TEDDY

H e. Is. Everything.

The smell of his skin. The taste of his pre-cum. The control he wields so effortlessly. Nothing exists outside of this moment. I desperately want to make him feel good, but he won’t let me do it. Not my way.

I like that too. So damn much.

My eyes don’t leave his. Watching him watch me. It’s erotic as hell. The pure need in his gaze, directed at me, is the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen. I want so much more.

Rhys pulls his dick from my mouth, teasing my lips with it. “Stick your tongue out.”

“I want to touch you.”

Rhys lifts an eyebrow and waits, not repeating the direction, but not giving me permission either. I growl low in my throat and stick my tongue out as far as it will go, which is past my chin.

Rhys drags his dick up the length of my tongue and into my mouth, then back again. I’m going to snap if he doesn’t let me do something.

“Can you deep throat?” His tone is husky, deeper than a moment ago.

I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. That smirk crosses his face again, and I know I’ll never be able to see it without getting hard.

“Let’s see just how well daddy likes to eat.”

Oh fuck.

He gives me more of him, pushing to the back and waits before feeding me more. It takes me a second to relax enough to let him in but I manage it.

“Atta boy,” Rhys praises me when my nose is nestled in his hair. His cock throbs on my tongue and I groan. My dick is hard and painful. “Now you can touch me.”

My hands are on his thighs, running up the corded muscle to his strong hips. He pulls out and pushes back in and feeling the power of his body is intoxicating. The man is gorgeous and he damn well knows it.

Watching for any hint that he doesn’t want it, I slide my hands under his shirt. There’s a little intake of breath, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable. I fight the urge to dig into him, to leave marks on him, proof I was here. Seeing little bruises or scratches on him from me would be…everything.

I need him to be just as affected. Just as desperate.

He threads his fingers through my hair, gripping it as his thrusts get faster, his breathing becomes panting. My attention snaps back to observing him. The pink in his cheeks, the blown pupils, the rise and fall of his chest.

I groan around him again and feel him shudder.

My dick throbs painfully, and I drop a hand to push against it.

“Leave it.” The words are harsh, sharp, and my hand is off it before my brain can process the words.

One hard snap of his hips.

My hands are back under his shirt, rubbing over his muscles.

Two.

His free hand slaps over mine on his chest, keeping it pinned.

Three and he holds it, coming down my throat with a long, low, guttural sound.

His fingers relax in my hair, and his knees start to give out. I pull off of him, licking him clean as I go, and sucking in deep breaths. Every part of me is tense and aching. If he makes me leave without coming, I will jump into a damn manhole to be eaten by the gators just to stop the suffering.

I drop back to my ass on the floor, my knees splayed, and grip my thighs in a painful squeeze.

Rhys wipes my chin and grabs my jaw, lifting my face to his as he bends down to kiss me. I can’t stop myself from clasping his head in my hands and ravaging his mouth. I’m trembling for fuck’s sake. Ready to explode in more ways than one.

He chuckles and bites my lip, sucking it into his mouth.

“I should make you suffer and leave you hanging.”

“I will jack off on your fucking pillow if you try.”

He laughs and pushes my chest to lie back. I do with no issues, perks of being a goalie. We’re bendy.

“Can you hold that position?” Rhys runs his hand down my chest, over one hip, and down my thigh. My lower back is arched off the floor a little, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yes. This is one of my pregame stretches. I’m good.”

My sweats make it easy for him to free my dick and with no warning, his mouth is around my cock. I cry out, gripping my hair in my hands for something to hold on to. There’s no warm up, no easing into it. He swallows me, then adds his hand to work me over quickly. It takes all of about seven seconds for me to whimper, then I’m coming with his name on my lips.

“You’re so easy.”

“I’m not easy! I’m very hard, thank you.”

He raises his brows and looks down at my cock.

“Shut up!” I’m weak, probably half dead, when there’s a knock on the door.

Rhys freezes and looks up my body at me. He pales a little, and that’s all the confirmation I need that he’s not out. Shit.

“Rhys! I swear to fuck, if you abandoned me to go to bed, I’ll murder you.” That’s Tobi.

My eyes widen and I’m shoving my dick back in my pants at the same time Rhys is getting himself put back together. Tobi doesn’t need another reason to hate me. I can’t believe I let myself do this.

Rhys is his best friend.

I’m such a shit person.

Rhys grabs a handful of my shirt and drags me toward his closet. He’s strong as fuck to be able to move me like that. I shouldn’t be turned on again, but I am.

Opening the door, he shoves me inside. I barely fit next to the hangers and hockey shit.

“Keep quiet!”

I can barely hear what’s happening in the room. Tobi is obviously pissed but I can’t hear Rhys’ responses.

Something is poking me in the ass cheek, but I can’t tell what it is since it’s dark in here. The hanging bar is too low, so I’m hunched over. This is bullshit. I came out years ago and yet here I am in a literal closet.

A door closes and footsteps get closer before the door is opened.

I can’t read the expression on his face. Guilt? Anger? Sadness? I’m not sure why but he looks like he needs a hug.

I reach for him, wrapping my arms around him but he stiffens and leaves his arms at his sides.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you a hug. I think?” Am I doing it wrong? Can you give a hug wrong? How does he not know what a hug is?

“Why?”

“Because you looked like you needed it?” I say not really sure why I’m doing it.

“Right. Am I done now?”

“Do you feel better?” I squeeze him a little tighter and kiss his temple.

“I can’t breathe, if that’s what you’re asking.”

With a huff, I drop my arms and step back into the closet, which makes things shift and shit fall out.

“You are a safety hazard.” He gives me a pointed look.

“You’re the one who shoved me in there. This is your fault.”

Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “We can’t do this again.”

I know that, but it still sucks to hear. The weight of guilt is heavy on my shoulders. We’re on opposing teams who play each other. I can’t have the doubt lingering in my head that I let him score on me. What if the boys find out about this? How could they trust me?

“Right. Sleeping with the enemy won’t end well for anyone.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not the enemy.”

“You literally are. You play for my biggest rival. That makes you the enemy.”

“Whatever.” He turns and grabs my Crocs from under a bed. I don’t even know which one is his. “These fucking atrocities almost got us caught.”

“Those are the most comfortable shoes to ever be invented.”

“Comfort is not worth how hideous they are.”

I shrug and flip the ankle strap up before putting them on. “Do your shoes have comfort mode and sport mode?” I point to his feet. “No, they don’t. That makes mine better.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

I lift my foot and show him the strap. “Like this, they are in comfort mode. Good for walking and leisurely activities.” I take off the shoe and flip the strap back and put it on. “This is sport mode for when you need to go fast.”

“That can’t make a difference.”

“It does.”

Rhys blinks, not saying anything while I put the one shoe back in comfort mode.

“I win.”

“You are not winning anything in those things.”

I head for the door and hesitate. If we can’t do this again, I should kiss him again. One last time. Right?

Spinning around, I find him in the same spot with his arms crossed. Fuck, he looks good.

“Kiss me.” It’s a demand and I’m not entirely sure how he’ll respond.

He lifts that damn eyebrow at me and smirks. “Why?”

“If we aren’t gonna do this again, I want another kiss. A good one. Make it worth it.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

I will cry like a child into my pillow later. It’ll be fine.

“Then I’ll leave without it.” Please don’t make me leave without it.

He watches me for a minute, then drops his arms. “Come here.”

I basically fly across the room, reaching for him the instant I’m close enough. With my lips a hair’s width away from his, he stops me with his hand on my throat. Damn winger reflexes.

I freeze.

Waiting.

My arms around his waist, our bodies touching from knee to chest.

I whimper as he makes me wait.

Rhys’ eyes drop to my mouth and I lick my lower lip. “I will miss this mouth,” he whispers against me before sinking into a deep kiss. It’s slow and drugging and makes my heart beat funny.

I am so fucked.

How am I going to not want more of this?