“Shut up,” he grumbles against my lips, trying not to laugh. And then he moves his hips, and all conversation is forgotten. He rolls and thrusts, and I tip my hips to meet his with each move.
We kiss and moan, hands exploring bodies, and I forget all worries about him suddenly turning straight again—not when he’s touching me and looking at me like he will never, ever look away. I don’t want him to either.
Somehow, for a baby bi or whatever type of queer he is, Hendrix manages to peg my prostate with each thrust. The relentlessness of his strokes has me too close to coming again already, so I unlock my ankles from his lower back, plant a foot on the bed, and flip us. Once on top, I straddle his hips and brace my hands on his pecs, slowly lowering until he is fully seated deep inside me. His hands grab my sides over my ribs, his thumbs splaying across my belly.
“Tahegin,” he gasps as my hips roll, circling and dragging up and down his length.
I reach back with one hand to fondle between his thighs, rolling his balls between my fingers and rubbing the sensitive skin just behind his sack.
Hendrix groans and holds me tighter. “Fuck! T . . . Goddamn. That feels amazing. Mmm . . . What are you doing to me?” he asks breathlessly when I rub harder.
My body rocks on his lap, dragging up and down, circling. Up, down, circle. He’s hard and hot inside me, girth stretching me, tip gliding against my prostate.
“You’re fucking torturing me.”
I keep up the pace, palm slipping between us to stroke his shaft with each rise of my hips.
His hands grip me tighter, until I know I’ll feel the fingertip bruises tomorrow. Biceps flexing, he takes control of my movements, keeping my pace but slamming me harder onto his lap with each pass. “Damn. You fuck me so sweet, T.”
Gasping for air, I breathe his name, pleading for my release and for him to bring me there. “Rix—”
“Come here.” He brings one hand to the back of my neck and drags my face to his, kissing me deeply. The move raises my hips, and Hendrix uses the advantage to plant his feet and thrust, hard and fast, into me. His arms wrap around me, holding tight, using his grip to pull us together over and over again.
Carding my fingers in his silky hair, I grab on for dear life, letting pleasure consume me.
He groans loudly and bites the meat of my shoulder. “Gonna come. Ah, fuck, you’re—gonna make me— Nngh!” His palm finds my throat, and he pushes me up far enough that his other thumb can massage my navel, and—
“Oh, God! Yes!” My cry is hoarse due to his hold on my throat, but the pressure on my sensitive belly button is all it takes for me to come again, painting his abs as he twitches his release inside me.
We come down together, panting and boneless, sweating and chuckling with ecstasy. Hendrix begins to fade into sleep, not a care about the mess drying between us, but manages to murmur a drowsy, “I’ll remember to reach around next time,” before passing out completely.
Laughing under my breath, I kiss his lax lips. “I love you, Rix.”
CHAPTER 28
TAHEGIN ELLINGSWORTH
“Hey, Tahegin. It’s Vikki. Look, I know you’re probably busy enjoying your summer, so I’ll make this quick. With your Rubies contract coming to an end, they have decided not to renew you for next season. Budget cuts, am I right? Anyway, I put feelers out and have a few teams interested in you. Don’t worry, they’re all offering more than the Rubies have given you, so we’ll get you a good deal. Give me a call, and we’ll schedule a time for you to come in and discuss, okay? Talk soon. Bye!”
I stare at my phone in shock, the voicemail staring back at me as heavy as an anvil. I missed her call last night and woke up this morning to the notification. Nerves had me sneaking out to listen to what she had to say, though now I wish I’d deleted it without listening so I could pretend everything is still okay.
Yesterday when Aleks reminded me that my contract was up, I didn’t want to admit to him—or myself—that I was worried this would happen. Now, in the afterglow of last night with Hendrix, I’m forced to face a harsh reality.
Hendrix and I will not be on the same team next season.
Arms slide around my torso, startling me, but when I look down, the fair skin against my bare abdomen is familiar and welcome. “Mm,” Hendrix hums, kissing my shoulder blade. “What are you doing out here?” If I wasn’t so upset, I’d make a comment about how one night of amazing sex seems to be all he needed to become a big ol’ touchy-feely softy.
Looking out over my backyard, I can’t help but wonder who will be standing on this balcony in a few months, calling this their pool and patio. Would Hendrix want this house? I could keep it if he wants to stay here or sign it over to him if he’d prefer. “Rix.” I lean into his embrace, squinting at the orange morning sun.
“Hm?” He kisses my nape.
“I got the call,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “The Rubies aren’t keeping me for next season.”
As quickly as his arms had wrapped around me, they retreat. “Shit.”
Turning to face him, I’m met with a pale chest equally as bare as mine, a pair of my boxer briefs on his hips and stretching to contain the bulge, even when soft, between his thighs. My tender hole clenches in remembrance of that girth inside me last night, but the distressed look on Hendrix’s face and the way he tightly grips his messy blond hair quickly tamps down my arousal.
“Shit, T. What are you going to do now?”
I gently reach up and extricate his hands from his hair, entwining my fingers with his instead. “It’s okay. Vikki left a voicemail. She said there are some other teams who want to sign me, so it’s not like I’ll be unemployed.”
He worries his bottom lip, gnawing on his next words before finally expelling them in a rush. “But you won’t be with me.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Catching his chin with our joined hands, I tip his lowered head up until those stormy greys meet my gaze. “We will still be together. I’ll try for a team near LA. San Francisco, maybe.”
“Right,” Hendrix scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Like San Francisco can afford your salary.”
I shrug. “Maybe I’ll take a pay cut.”
“Tahegin, no.”
“The point is,” I continue while using our joined hands to pull him close, chest to chest, “I have options, but I am not letting a little distance come between this. Us. I love you, so you’re stuck with me, ya hear?” I throw in some of that Southern-charm twang I had growing up. “Them’s the rules, baby.”
Hendrix steps away, releasing my hand in favor of dragging both of his down his face. “You could end up in New York, Tahegin. Or Florida. Literally the other side of the country. At some point, our teams are going to play and . . . God, you’re a cornerback, and I’m a receiver; we’re going to go head-to-head, and it won’t just be practice anymore. We will be competing. We could collide the wrong way, one of us could get hurt—”
“Rix, there are sibling matchups all the time. We can do this.” I pause, carefully considering my next words and what they might mean for us—for our relationship. “But I don’t think we should go public now.”
I watch Hendrix’s face fall, knowing mine is a mirror image of despair.
