Park narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What look? What are you talking about?” His gaze shifted to Jett and Harrison, but he still appeared confused.
Holt pushed him out of the booth and followed him. When they were both standing, he swung an arm over Park’s shoulders and gave him an affectionate shake. “It’s past this one’s bedtime. He’s a rotten bastard if he doesn’t get his beauty sleep before the next game.”
Park elbowed Holt viciously, muttering curses in several languages.
“Sounds good!” Jett waved at them with the free hand that wasn’t dangerously close to gripping Harrison’s cock. “I hope you guys lose against New York.”
“Fuck you,” said Park. “I hope you lose every game and don’t make the playoffs.”
Jett and Holt both gasped dramatically, the former roughly slapping a hand over Park’s mouth.
“Please ignore how awful he is.” The captain of the Ottawa Conclaves looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Text him,I’m begging you.”
Jett started sniggering as the two men walked away, bickering loudly and wrestling. Some Sunburst players stopped their conversations to watch the spectacle, clapping and jeering until they made their way out of the bar.
Jett turned his attention back to Harrison, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you want to play some pool? You might get lucky and win a car tonight.”
Harrison pulled him closer, placing his hand on Jett’s cheek and tilting his head, making it look like he was going in for a kiss. He stopped just before their lips touched, and even over the noise of the bar, he could hear the hitch of anticipation in Jett’s breathing.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Fraser. Tread carefully.”
He watched Jett’s pupils dilate, black nearly swallowing all the gold.
“Killinger, I thought I told you that I like playing with fire.”
To emphasize his point, Jett moved his hand and cupped the rigid line of his cock through his pants, squeezing it.
Fuck. Would they even make it to the room at this point?
“You’re drunk,” said Harrison.
Jett made a dismissive sound. “I’m not drunk. If I were, I would already be under this table sucking your cock.”
Harrison closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “We need to leave. There are bags to pack and planes to catch.”
Jett’s answering grin was all the response he needed.
Jett
Jett was pushed against the hotel room door the second it closed behind him. Harrison kicked his legs apart enough so he could slide his own in between them, grinding his muscular thigh into the bulge tenting his slacks.
“Fuck, Harrison—”
The rest of his words were swallowed by Harrison’s mouth, cut off as a hot tongue slipped past his lips and dragged over his teeth. He tasted like stale whiskey—bitter, smoky, and unexpectedly intoxicating. It wasn’t something Jett would’ve found attractive in any other moment, but the insistent throb in his cock told a different story.
The kiss was messy and demanding, stealing all of the oxygen in Jett’s lungs, making him feel lightheaded. Harrison groaned every time Jett moved his hips, enjoying the friction it created for both of them.
Since the hair tie was still gone, Jett had easy access to Harrison’s silky, black hair. He loved how he could pull sounds from his boyfriend by tugging on it in the right places. Growls, moans, and sighs filled the space between their lips, only for Jett to hear.
Only him. Harrison was his.
Harrison tore away from his mouth and started kissing a trail down Jett’s jaw, to his neck, stopping to suck marks on his collarbones.
“We need to be…a little quiet,” Jett spoke between ragged breaths. “Ryan is in the room next to…us.”
“Don’t care,” Harrison growled. He ripped Jett’s shirt open, sending buttons scattering everywhere. “We’re all adults here. It’s not like they’ve never heard someone being taken apart before.”
“Taken apart?” Jett let out a laugh that quickly turned into a drawn-out moan when Harrison pressed his tongue against his nipple, swirling around it and sucking hard. His head fell back, smacking off the wooden door hard enough to hurt.
