Page 64 of Touchdown
Well, fuck them if they even cared. And they probably didn't. That wasn't really information that a gang of whoever they were—pirates? cyber-terrorists?—could use.
As for Bill Mitchell's threats to out me, could he really use them to bully me anymore?
I've given him what he wanted. I'd led him to Noah.
And even if I somehow took Noah away again, so what? Let Mitchell out me. Or let somebody else out me.
Did it really matter anymore?
We'd won the championship. Nobody was going to mess with the winning quarterback. Not when we were the defending champions. Not when we'd worked so hard to get back the team back on top where it belonged.
I was a hero, and I could be gay if I wanted, I could be anything...
“Where did you go?” Noah asked quietly, his legs stretching and bouncing to bring me back to the moment. His tempting hole winked open in flushed flirtation. He was lubed and ready. My fingers had done their job and fallen still. “Come back, babe. I need you.”
And I needed him. My cock jolted within its latex casing. Fitted and kitted, ready to stroke forward, my body had never left this bed even if my mind had wandered.
“Nowhere.” Laughing, I stroked forward. “I'm right here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”
His inner walls claimed me. Pulsing, pulling, urging. How well we fit together. Our bodies joined in a delightful shudder.
“I think I love you,” I said before I realized I meant to say anything.
Maybe I shouldn't have said it.
Maybe Noah wasn't ready.
Maybe all these feelings weren't real, maybe they were about the intensity of feeling that comes from being in danger together.
Don't lie to yourself. This is more than mere physical intensity. You know it's real, it's everything.
Anyway, it was too late to call them back. The words were out. “I love you.” And I was glad it was too late, I was glad I'd said those three little words even if they gave my soul away.
I hadn't said them to convince Noah to do something or to be something. I said them because I meant them, and I couldn't not say them, and so they'd forced their way out of my mouth.
I said them because I felt so good and right on top of him, but I also felt good and right when I exchanged a glance across a room—or across an ocean—with him. We didn't have to touch physically to touch each other to the core. All that time he'd been lost, and yet I kept searching because I could feel that invisible thread between us.
“You don't have to say anything,” I murmured. “Just let me say it. I love you. This feels right. Nothing has ever felt this right.”
Noah surged beneath me. His hard cock was caught between our bellies. His long tunnel was clasping my cock tight. His arms gripped frantically at my hip and shoulder.
“But I want to say something,” he said. “I want to say I love you too. Because I do.”
“I love you, Noah. You're my everything. It's crazy what we've been through, but...”
“I love you too, Slate. You came for me. I couldn't believe it, but you did. Have I said that already?”
“Say it a thousand times,” I said. “Say it until you believe it. I'll always come for you, Noah.”
In more ways than one. We both chuckled at our deliciously filthy pun.
And then I stroked even deeper. Whatever waited for us outside this room would have to wait a little longer.
???
