Harrison’s eyebrow slowly raised, his eyes wandering over Jett’s appearance. “What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”
“Weird?” Jett wanted to scream and pull his hair out. “Okay, we’re friends now, so let’s cut the crap. Youknowwhat I’m upset about.”
Harrison held his gaze with a stern frown, but it didn’t take long for it to falter. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” was all he said.
Yeah, Jett was fucking aware.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” said Jett. “But right now, in this very moment, I’m standing in front of you.”
Emotions flickered across Harrison’s expression, all unreadable. “You wanted to be friends, and you’re leaving tomorrow. What’s the point of starting anything when it has to end?”
Jett dropped his bag on the floor before he did something immature, like tossing it at Harrison’s stupid face.
“Fucking hell, Killinger. Maybe I was hoping we could relieve a little stress together and still be friends? It’s not like I was fucking proposing marriage to you.”
Then Jett strode over to Harrison, who quickly backed away, but Jett chased him until his back hit the wall outside of the room, trapping him.
“You’re driving me crazy,” said Jett, shoving a finger into Harrison’s chest, earning a grunt from him. “Making sex eyes at me all the time, but refusing to do anything about it. Do you know how problematic it is to skate while you’re hard? It was very hard, thanks. Every part of it was hard!”
Harrison’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open in shock.
“Of course I want to be friends, motherfucker, but can you blame me for taking a shot when you keep smiling at me? Or making comments? Or what about when you leave the room and make no effort to hide the fact that you’re jacking off? Do you think I’m a goddamn saint?”
He didn’t know why Harrison was smiling, but it made him want to knock his teeth out.
Jett raised his hand, but Harrison grabbed it and held tight, using his height and upper body strength to push Jett back into his room.
“Fuck—Killinger! What—”
Harrison didn’t stop until the back of Jett’s knees hit the bed, and he was thrown onto it. His brain couldn’t react fast enough. Harrison was on top of him, one hand pinning his clenched fist to the bed while the other covered his mouth.
“You and your goddamn mouth.” Harrison’s voice was low and gravely, making Jett’s skin break into goosebumps. “I knew you were trouble the second I laid eyes on you, Fraser.”
The hand pinning his fist let go, but Jett was too shocked to react, especially when that hand slid down his arm to his chest, his abs, until Harrison was cupping him through his sweats, making him let out a muffled whimper.
“I bet this will shut you up…for a few minutes anyway.”
And then Jett’s head was turned until his neck was exposed, and Harrison’s lips and teeth were on him. His hands flew around Harrison’s neck, gripping his hair so hard that it was pulled from its tie, and the strands were loose between his fingers. He gasped and groaned against Harrison’s palm as his neck was kissed and sucked on harshly enough to leave deep, purple marks.
Harrison let go, only to slide his hand beneath the waistband and wrap it around him again, dragging a slow, deliberate stroke that made Jetttwitch. He was so turned on that he was already leaking. Harrison barely had to move to gather enough precum to make the glide slick and easy.
“Look how good you are,” Harrison said, his breath hot on Jett’s bruised neck. “You’re so wet I don’t even think we need lube.”
Jett slammed his eyes closed, fighting to keep his damn orgasm back before it was over too fast. He didn’t know if he was going to survive this encounter. He shouldn’t have pushed Harrison as far as he did.
“Do you know how difficult it’s been for me? I have to watch you parade around in that damn Sunburst jersey all the time, thinking about how I want to tear it off you and bend you over the couch.”
Jett whimpered when Harrison sucked another mark onto his neck, slowly stroking his cock and giving him no relief. But that didn’t matter; his words were getting him to the edge faster than anything else.
“And watching you skate,” Harrison growled into Jett’s ear, his hand moving faster as he got lost in the rhythm of his words. “Fuck, I love it. You’re so damn talented—and every time you’re out on the ice, you make me so fucking hot.”
Jett tangled his legs with Harrison’s, breathing harshly through his nose. He wasn’t going to last—oh fuck, he wasn’t going to—
“Now, be good for me and come.”
Jett gasped as the hand was suddenly torn from his mouth. His eyes flew open, locking onto Harrison’s as he came, his next breath catching in a half-formed curse that melted into a loud, drawn-out moan.
Harrison’s pupils were blown black, his gaze fixed on Jett like he couldn’t look away. His voice came out rough, almost wrecked. “Fuck, Jett—”
