I lift away from his neck then stare down at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to take you to dinner first?”
“Fuck, no,” he laughs.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He shrugs. “There is no problem. It’s just funny that we’ve had our room assignment for all of eight minutes and we’re already tearing each other’s clothes off.”
“You might be onto something.” I grin down at him. “I bet we can do it in five next time.” Lifting up to give him more space, I reach between us and tug at the hem of his shirt, eager to feel his skin under my palms. “Now take this off.”
He blissfully complies and I quickly throw mine to the floor beside his. From there, I grab onto the elastic waist of his shorts and begin to tug them off. He lifts his hips from the bed to help me.
“See how much easier this is?” I say as I toss his shorts to the side. “When you’re not being a brat.”
“I thought you liked it when I was a brat.”
“What on earth would ever give you that idea?”
“You called me that the other day,” he laughs. “Besides, I’ve always been Ander’s bratty little brother.”
“No one in the history of hockey—up until this moment—has ever called you Ander’s bratty little brother. We always called you Baby. Now, for fuck’s sake, take your underwear off and come here so we can get each other’s cocks in our mouths.”
He smirks at me and makes no effort to remove his underwear. Then, with heavy sarcasm he says, “When you put it that way, there’s no chance I’ll ever resist.”
Brandon
So teasing Ryan before sex is almost as much fun as having sex with him. Maybe it’s because he was my first crush. Maybe it’s because I always assumed there was zero chance of something like this ever happening. Maybe it’s because now that it is happening every spare moment that we have is spent in various states of nakedness together.
Like right now. Lying on a bed with him, his dick in my mouth,mine in his, is something only my wildest dreams could have ever come up with. But damn it, I’ve been enjoying it every chance I can get. And thank God, I know I’m not dreaming. There’s zero way this isn’t real. Because if this isn’t real, then neither is my career as an NHL player. Neither is the incredible run the Mules have gone on since the trade deadline that brought me and Coach Chris to St. Louis. Neither is the fact that we are hours away from playing in our first playoff game against the Winnipeg Brown Bears.
With my eagerness for tonight’s game lingering in my mind, I channel that energy and begin to work Ryan over with my mouth and my hand harder and faster. I’m getting close as it is, and I want to bring Ryan with me over the edge.
“Fuck,” he moans around my dick as he licks and sucks. The vibration of his moan ripples through me. It’s enough to make me teeter further into bliss.
My hips begin to move, needing to take some control to help me reach the finish line. He starts to do the same.
I can sense our competitive natures coming out and it’s becoming a race to see who can get the other off faster. It’s like a switch has flipped in us. Our sixty-nine session started the same, taking our time in an attempt to draw out pleasure. But now that we’re both getting close, the challenge begins. Who can get who off first?
I want to win. So I start to flick my tongue back and forth under the head of his cock as fast as I can while I take him in and out of my mouth, working in tandem with my fist. I can feel the moment when he’s about to blow. Everything from his cock to his balls gets taut and draws up closer to his body. I swirl my tongue over the head, and I’m rewarded with his salty, creamy release coating my tongue, followed immediately by me spilling into his.
My lips lift into a dopey and dazed smile when I release his cock from between them. I swallow his load, then say, “I win.”
“Bullshit.” He laughs between labored breaths. “It was a tie.”
Ryan
“Here,” I say as I flip Brandon’s helmet off of him in the tunnel, then hold it out in front of him. “You might need this.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m aware. As it was just on my head. Where it’s supposed to be.”
“Not if you’re going to throw up,” Danton says as he comes up behind me.
“I’m not going to throw up!” Brandon exclaims.
Danton and I both look at each other, then take our gazes back to Brandon. Even in these dim lights, it’s easy to see that he is his typical pregame shade of green.
“We should get him two helmets,” Danton says.
I nod my head. “One for the game.”
