My dick swells, and my heart beats double time. “No problem here.”
He kisses me again before kneeling in between my legs. “I need to taste you again, Booker. I need you in my mouth.” Ian hovers above me and sinks his mouth onto my cock. His lips are firm, his mouth is warm, and if I die like this, I’ll die a happy man.
He bobs up and down, teasing me with how good it feels before cupping my balls and taking me so deep that my cock hits the back of his throat. “Fuck,” I cry out, the sensation that intense.
He pulls back, his lips glistening. “Yes. I need you to fuck me, Booker.” He rolls to his back and spreads his legs wide. I settle between his thighs and bend down for a kiss.
“Can I take you like this?”
“Yes,” he tells me. “I want to watch your face as you fuck me hard. I want to witness the exact moment I make you come. I want to kiss you and teaseyou, and I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”
He swings his legs over my shoulders, and I grip the sheets with one hand, while guiding myself slowly in with the other. My body knows just what to do now and it feels like coming home.
I look into Ian’s hazel eyes as I enter him slowly, then pull back slightly before thrusting forward. His lips part on a gasp and we establish a rhythm quickly. I lean close for a kiss and our chests collide. The electric touch of his body on mine spurs me on. “Yes, Ian. Yes. God, you take me so good.”
“Fuck. Fuck,” he pants, as I reach between us to stroke his cock. He’s long and hard, and I want nothing more than to make him come.
“I’m close, Booker,” he tells me. “So fucking close to coming in your hand. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I answer, nearly breathless.“Yes, Ian. God, I’m so close,” I thrust inside one last time before I see stars. Ian cries out, spilling his release onto my hand.
We’ve made a glorious mess, but I don’t care. There will be time for cleanup later. Pulling out, I lean in for a kiss before lying beside him.
Within seconds, we’re back in our usual positions, me on my back, and Ian curled into me, his head on my chest. He looks up into my eyes. “I meant what I said. I love you, Booker.”
Wrapping my arms around his body, I hold him close. “I love you, too, Ian. Always. No matter what.”
“Always,” he echoes. “No matter what.”
THE END
Epilogue
Booker
Two years later…
Long-distance relationships are hard.
And, truthfully, so is my dick as I stare at the picture my boyfriend sent me last night.
I wish I could stare at it a little longer, maybe even do something about the thickening length in my shorts, but duty calls. The Flagstaff Antelope have a game tomorrow, so I need to get my butt to the practice facility.
I’m playing for the AHL, while Ian’s working on his doctorate in D.C. We’re both working toward our dreams, but we’re doing it two thousand miles apart.
Yep, long-distance sucks. We haven’t seen each other in over a month. Between my travel schedule for hockey, the fact that my team is based in Arizona, and that Ian’s in his second year of a doctoral program, we’re rarely in the same city for morethan twenty-four hours.
But despite our crazy schedules, I would still choose him every time. He’s my forever, and as soon as I can get him alone for more than a few hours, I’m going to prove it to him.
Falling in love with Ian McBride is the best thing I’ve ever done, and if that means that most of our sex life takes place over a phone screen, so be it. It won’t always be this way.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
But the fact is that he’ll be in school in D.C. for three more years. And I’ll be wherever the organization wants me to be. I’ve had a good rookie season, but whether or not it’s good enough to move up to the majors remains to be seen. Even then, Phoenix is just as far, but at least they play on the East Coast.
It’s crazy to think that just a little over two years ago I was convinced I could never lead the life I wanted to. But now, here I am, lusting after my boyfriend from afar and playing professional hockey.
Risks are hard to take, but in my experience, they’re worth it. So even though the ring sitting in the dresser drawer of my half-furnished apartment feels like a risk, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
