Page 70 of King of the Crease

I kiss him again, deeper, my hands framing his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks like I’m memorizing him. He kisses me back like he’s been waiting to be allowed.

We don’t rush. We don’t need to.

“My beautiful Nick,” I whisper as if it were a prayer to the universe.

“I’m coming,” his voice cracks out.

“Right there with you. Don’t stop.” I feel him clench under me.

His hot seed pools over his fist and dribbles down my shaft as he comes undone. I moan against his lips as I join him.

Slowly, our hearts return to a normal pace. I gaze at him in the candlelight, my beautiful Nick.

“One second,” I whisper. I run into the bathroom and grab a towel for us. Usually, this would be the mega-awkward part of sex. But it only feels more intimate as I wipe him off. We have nothing to hide. We’re adults who know how ejaculation works.

Once we get cleaned off, Nick cuddles against me. He kisses my chest, rubs his face in it like a cat marking territory. A sense of peace overtakes me. Not only do I want to be here, but I admit to myself that I deserve to be here. I am worthy of this man and these feelings.

As the warm hum of his body in my arms lulls me to sleep, I think about my past relationships. I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve been married. I exchanged vows and made a child with someone. And yet…for the first time in my life, I’m beginning to understand what love feels like.

22

NICK

Sunlight pours through the blinds the next morning. In a few hours, I’m set to play a game of hockey, but the only way I’m getting out of this bed is via court order.

I’m nestled in Hank’s big arms, his broad, furry midsection warming my back. His cock is resting against my ass; mine is already hard as a cannon.

I pull the sheets up to my face and smell Hank on them. I am completely enveloped by him.

Last night’s a little fuzzy for me. I had more to drink than intended. But I remember the highlights. Making out with Hank. Calling him my boyfriend. Jerking each other off in this very bed. Feeling a deeper connection with another human than I’d ever experienced before.

When you find someone on your wavelength, it makes you realize how lonely you were before. How did I ever get through my busy life as a royal without Hank? Last night was the first time I didn’t feel like I was speaking in code.

I blink my eyes open and spot a trophy atop the dresser. I think we won that, too?

Fortunately, all that water I drank last night has minimized the hangover knocking around my head. It’s also made me desperate to urinate, a challenge when one is also at full mast.

I sneak out of bed, put on my boxer briefs, and creep into the bathroom. I wait for my erection to cool down so I can go to the bathroom.

Hank’s toiletries are tidily arranged around the bathroom sink. He has a toothbrush, a roll of toothpaste that’s been pressed flat in the middle, a comb, spring meadow-scented hand soap. Why is my heart swelling at his toiletries? Why is the sight of his toothbrush making me swoon?

Is this what falling in love feels like? Is it merely a low-grade obsession with every mundane detail of someone else’s life?

After I do my business, I exit the bathroom and find Hank sitting up, a sleepy smile on his lips, messy hair falling into his eyes. As I once overheard some American socialites say about Jonathan Bailey: damn, that man is a snack.

“Good morning,” he says with a half-awake growl.

“Good morning.”

“Someone’s in a good mood.” His eyes travel to my crotch, where my dick is pointing at him like an arrow. I cover it with my hands.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask.

“Oh yeah. I’m a little hungover, but not as bad as I was expecting.”

“Good call making us drink all that water.”

“You’re lucky you met me at forty-three and not twenty-three. Otherwise, we’d still be drinking.”