He studied me as if processing my request and carefully parsing his words. “I don’t want to leave you.”
I chose to ignore the clanging warning bells going off somewhere deep inside my brain as he inserted the word want in there. As if he’d do it anyway. Instead, I leaned in and kissed him, telling him with my slow perusal of his lips that he was more important to me than any nosy reporter could ever be.
Mikey’s hand came up to cup the side of my neck. “You could always come with me.”
These words hadn’t been tested. They were raw and real, but they were also impossible. “I can’t.” They were the hardest words I’ve ever said.
“I’m sorry,” I added in a near whisper.
He shot me a smile as fake as a dollar-store Santa. “Nope. Of course you can’t. I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t really mean it. You have football. I know how important it is to you. Giving it up for… this… would be ridiculous.”
Every cell in my body begged me to disagree with him, to tell him I didn’t want football if I couldn’t have him, too. But it wasn’t that easy. Football was everything. It had been everything for as long as I could remember. Football was how my father and I communicated, how I proved my worth to the world, how I made my friends and family proud. It was how I convinced myself that I was a hard worker, that I had dedication, drive, and commitment.
“Not ridiculous,” I finally said. “Just not… realistic. Not right now. But maybe we can figure out a way to make it work.”
“Maybe we can,” he said, leaning in to kiss me again.
By the time we finished our long stay at first base, I was itching to steal second.
“Take off your clothes,” I urged, moving onto my knees on the carpet in front of the sofa. “Want to suck you off.”
Mikey scrambled out of his shirt and jeans, revealing a tight little pair of navy-and-orange striped briefs. I chuckled. “I didn’t know you had Rigger undies. You’re full of surprises.”
“Santa brought them in my stocking last year. I’m not sure Santa knows any other colors besides navy and orange, to be honest.” He shucked the briefs down and dangled them by a finger before flinging them across the room with abandon. I was fully on board with his “fuck it” attitude, and my dick was beginning to think there was entirely too much chitchatting going on.
I sucked on the tip of his dick and watched for his reaction. His eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned and reached his fingers into my hair. “Holy fuck, you’re good at that,” he said on an inhale.
I pressed my palm against his bare stomach and pressed him back into the sofa while I moved my mouth up and down on his hard shaft. He was a mix of clean and musky, and I wanted to lick and suck him all over.
I pushed his knees up until his feet rested against the edge of the sofa cushion. My tongue continued teasing his dick while I reached blindly under the sofa for the bottle of lube we’d left there the night before after Sam had left. He’d come over to watch a Fast and Furious movie which meant I’d sat there watching hard, sexy bodies on screen for two hours while Mikey squirmed against my side. As soon as Sam had left, I’d pretty much gone feral all over Mikey’s person before fucking him loudly into the floor on his hands and knees.
I glanced down at his hole to see if it was still abused from the night before. As soon as I caught a glimpse of it behind his sac, I felt my dick scream against my blue jeans. Fucking pants.
The button was impossible to pop open while I was also trying to find the lube, so I gave up on my search, ripped opened my jeans, and then pushed Mikey’s knees to his chest to get a better look at his hole. It squeezed tight when I yanked him forward until his ass was also at the edge of the cushion. Mikey made a nervous, squeaky sound before covering his eyes with his hands. Streaks of flushed pink peeked out from behind his arms, all down his neck and onto his chest.
I told him how sexy he was, how much he drove me out of my mind with need, and then I leaned in and ran my tongue along his rim. The noise he made was carnal and raw, desperate. But he didn’t beg. I could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable with this yet, so I took my time, interspersing licks and teasing nips between words of wonder and appreciation.
When I opened him up farther with my tongue, he finally broke. “Please. Oh fucking god, that feels good. Don’t stop.” His words became slurred the more I sucked him with my mouth and jacked him with my hand. When I finally found the lube and pressed slick fingers inside him, he mumbled something about wanting to rim me, too, show me how good it felt.
Before he could finish his thought, I must have hit just the right spot because he cried out and came all over my hand and his front. Fuck, he was stunning. I could watch him take his pleasure all day, every day and still be happy.
I scrambled to stand and whipped out my dick, using my cum-slick hand to jack myself over him. It took a pitiful number of strokes before I was busting a nut all over his stomach and chest while he lay there panting.
The sight of him naked and flushed, covered in our combined fluids, made my orgasm last even longer.
My feelings for him were stronger than ever, and I felt incredible relief knowing he wouldn’t leave me because of his father’s media concerns. I’d come out a long time ago for a reason, and I wasn’t going back in the closet now for anyone.
“Let me grab a towel,” I said roughly before leaning down to run a finger through the mess. “Before this makes me hard again and I flip you over and take your ass.”
His eyes heated, and his dick tried to rally against his thigh. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re going to kill me.”
I stood up with a chuckle and made my way to the nearest bathroom where I wet the hand towel and brought it back. Once I had us both cleaned up, I lay down on the sofa and pulled him on top of me for a cuddle. I wanted to hold him for a little while.
SportsCenter continued playing softly in the background as I tried to muster up the energy to reach for the remote to change it. The orgasm, mixed with the relief that Mikey hadn’t stormed out or broken up with me, made me relaxed to the point of dozing.
Just as I drifted off, I heard his soft voice muffled against my chest. “I have feelings for you, too.”
I fell asleep with a giant smile on my face and Mikey V. exactly where I wanted him. In my arms.
Everything was going to be okay.
20
Mikey
I didn’t sleep well, despite pressing myself closer to Tiller than the small Super Bowl tattoo he had on his calf. Usually, sleeping against him was as good as being knocked out with hard drugs, but I couldn’t stop the anger welling inside me. I was almost thirty years old, well beyond the age when my parents should have a say in who I dated or slept with.
At first, I’d wondered if I was making too much of it. I certainly didn’t want to get into World War Three with my father over a temporary hookup with Tiller. But after the way the gentle giant had claimed me in front of Sam the other night and talked about enjoying the double date as a couple with Winter and Gent, I thought maybe it was okay for me to assume this was more than a temporary fling.
He’d told my father he had feelings.