“Impossible.”
“Jesus Christ.” Harrison laughed, and his expression was one of disbelief. “We were kissing.”
“Yes,” said Jett.
“Your hands were on my ass. I was sucking on your tongue.”
“Yes.”
“I put my hand on your dick, and then you started snoring.”
Jett smacked his arm. “I didnot!”
“Oh yes, you did.” Harrison didn’t look mad, only amused. “It was possibly the most adorable and unsexy thing that has ever happened in my bed.”
Ohmygod. Jett grabbed his pillow and shoved his face into it, praying it would be enough to smother him to death.
“It’s okay, I was tired too,” said Harrison, yanking the pillow away from Jett so they could look at each other again. “I got to spoon you all night in my jersey, and now it smells like you. That’s a good enough reward for the lack of interest in fucking me.”
“There was no lack of goddamn interest,” said Jett. He was so embarrassed, and still so horny. How the hell did he fall asleep with Harrison fucking Killinger on top of him?
To prove his point, Jett threw his blankets off and pushed Harrison onto his back, climbing on top of him to straddle his hips. “Take the towel off.”
Harrison groaned, and the hunger in his eyes was enough to set those butterflies in his stomach on fire again.
“As much as I would love to see what you have planned, we have a bus packed with your teammates to catch.”
The words were coming from Harrison’s mouth, but the hands gripping Jett’s waist tightly enough to bruise said otherwise.
“We can drive the rental to the airport,” Jett murmured, a soft moan slipping out as he rocked against the hard outline of Harrison’s cock pressing into his ass. “What do we need—ten minutes, tops?”
“Ten minutes? Okay, now I’m insulted.” Harrison picked Jett up and dropped him on the bed beside him. “If you think ten minutes is enough to satisfy me, you’re out of your mind.”
Jett flopped back onto the bed with a disappointed grumble. “Not even a blow job?”
“Fraser, you have two minutes to get dressed and pack your shit or I’m leaving you here for Blanchard to chew on.”
Jett got out of bed but didn’t miss a chance to glare at Harrison while gathering his clothes from the floor. Harrison only smiled as he dressed and tidied the room, completely unfazed. And as much as Jett wanted to stay annoyed, it wasn’t enough to overpower the possessive thrill he felt seeing Harrison wearing his jersey.
He made a mental note to call Arlo and thank him.
Jett was more awake by the time they left the hotel to join the guys outside by the bus. He ignored the eyes watching him and Harrison as they handed their bags to staff members for baggage sorting. He was suddenly nervous about facing everyone without a suitable amount of caffeine in his system.
“So happy our star player and lucky charm could join us this morning,” said Ryan, grinning before he pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to Wolf.
Jett was instantly defensive. “Were you guys taking bets on whether we would show up?”
“No,” said Jason, who also handed money to Wolf, shortly followed by the rest of the guys in the group. “We were taking bets on whether you consummated the wedding.”
“Consummated?” Jett couldn’t believe these assholes. “How would you even know the truth?”
Wolf shrugged. “You’re not blushing. If you had the sex, you would be blushing.”
Well, Jett hadn’t been blushing, but he wasnow.
“The hickeys almost fooled me,” said Cormier. “You look like you got mauled, dude.”
Loud clapping made Jett pause before he could tell them off, and Coach Adams stepped in between them to calm the bickering.
