CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bailey
I satbolt upright in bed, throwing Hunter off my chest as the obnoxiously loud grinding of our ancient blender rang through the walls of our flat.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, my heart rate so high I’d probably break a blood pressure monitor. Who the fuck was using a blender in our kitchen at half six in the bloody morning? There were only two of us in here.
“I’m up, I’m up,” Hunter said, rolling over and out of bed, landing on the floor with a thunderous crash. “Ow! Fuck!”
“Who the hell…” I trailed off as the memories of last night crashed over me.
Oh shit, I’d fucked Hunter.
And it had been everything I’d wanted it to be and more.
I already knew I’d never be able to go back to pretending there was nothing between us. We’d crossed that final line and there was no undoing it. Even if we tried, I’d never be able to forget what he felt like around my cock.
Or what happened afterwards, when Aiden had crawled into Hunter’s bed, leaving the two of us alone. Hunter had buried his face in my neck, murmuring about how perfect the night had been, and I’d been struck with the realisation that I needed it to always be this way.
I glanced slowly towards his side of the bed, subtly trying to see if he’d remembered what had happened too. He was sat on the floor, his head and chest popping up over the top of the mattress, his dark hair hanging loose around his shoulders, half of it sticking out at odd angles. He didn’t look particularly perturbed or horrified, more like he was half-asleep and bemused by how he’d ended up on the floor.
“I fell out of bed,” he said, a deep crease appearing in his forehead as he looked around. “I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Sorry, I jumped. Aiden’s using the blender.” As if to underscore my point, the obscenely loud whirring punctuated the air again.
“I’d forgotten we had a blender.”
“It’s the old one we got from your mum when she moved house.”
“Oh yeah, I remember.” Hunter stretched and hummed, and my eyes stayed fixed on the way his pecs moved as he arched his back. He scratched his chest absent-mindedly then chuckled, looking down at his fingers. “I think I need a shower before we go to training. I’ve got cum in my chest hair.”
“How?”
“I dunno. Must by mine.” He grinned as he climbed to his feet, putting his hands on the bed and leaning across to steal a kiss. “I did get fucked really well last night.”
“Are you sore?” I asked quietly, brushing my lips against his. It was strange to be talking about what we’d done without Aiden there, and without prompting, but it felt right. Comfortable. Like something we should have been doing all along.
Better late than never I supposed.
Hunter shook his head. “No, not really.”
“What does not really mean?”
He flushed slightly, the bridge of his nose tinting, and my cock twitched. I’d never noticed how good Hunter looked when he blushed. Or how much I liked it. Aiden had said he was pretty, and I had to agree. Hunterwaspretty, and I loved watching him blush and squirm and beg. Idly, I wondered what he’d look like spread out, overstimulated, and whimpering on one of Aiden’s bigger toys.
“My arse aches a bit, but it’s not a bad thing. Just feels like I got really well fucked. And I like that.” He kissed me again, smirking smugly. “I’ll be able to feel it all day while we’re training.”
“Is that okay? I don’t want you to be in pain.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like I’m the only guy on the Knights who enjoys getting railed. They all manage fine.”
I screwed up my face for a second as I thought. “Who else? Danny? I mean, the way he shows his arse off for Ezra can only mean he wants to get fucked, right?”
“I think showing your arse off is something anyone can do. I’ve seen your shorts,” Hunter said with a grin. “But yeah, I think Danny… Devon… and Mason too. Devon called him a needy bottom, remember? Before we played Brighton. When I was looking for your pants.”
“Vaguely,” I said. I tended to tune out when anyone other than Hunter tried to talk to me before games. “But none of those surprise me. Would you… would you ever want to tell them?”
“Why?”
