Page 36 of Josh’s Play

“You like to … you could have been hooking up with someone else. No strings, no baggage, no closet.”

My heart was pounding hard in my chest, much harder than a healthy young man should expect when he was lying down in a darkened room. The truth came out of me, and I understood my anxious state as soon as I said it, honest and raw and scary. “I didn’t want to do that. I don’t want to do that. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you.”

“Josh.” The exasperation was still in his voice, but it had gotten heavy, too, and I loved the way it sounded, the tremors of it traveling through me, grabbing hold of that pounding heart and pushing the pulse of it through to my core. My dick tightened, and I finally forced my eyes away from his and allowed them to travel the length of his body.

As I’d assumed, his cock was straight and proud and pointing right at me through his official Hampstead Hockey warm-up sweats.

“Josh, come here, please.” You’d have thought I would jump at the request, but I didn’t. I hesitated, focusing on the thumping of my heart. And it wasn’t because I was worried over Cam. It wasn’t him I wanted to ask Are you sure?, it was me. Because all of sudden, or maybe not all of a sudden, maybe since the day we’d met, Campbell wasn’t some super-hot hookup, nor was he a friend I could help out with losing his virginity.

Without fucking realizing it, I’d gone and caught feelings for Campbell Ryan. Lying there, on Devon’s bed, I watched myself turn from an AJ to a Jamie, the party boy gone in favor of becoming a one-man guy, my heart gone, Guys4Guys already mentally erased from my phone.

And I may have even embraced it if I’d thought for a second it was what Cam wanted or needed. The simple truth was that it wasn’t, which meant that I had to keep my fledgling feelings to myself and do what was right for Campbell. And what was right for Campbell was for me to do as I had promised.

“Josh?” He sounded confused, and he started to move as if he was going to get up.

“Wait,” I said, standing up myself and pulling his sweatshirt and my shirt up over my head. I was sure the pulse in my neck was a visible thing, and I was glad for the silvery darkness surrounding me. I took a step forward and slipped my shorts and briefs off next. My semi-hard cock fell between my legs, and in the gray shadows I could follow Cam as he first watched my clothes fall, and then as his eyes traveled to take it in.

He sat up then, and his gaze raked over my whole body. Even in the near darkness, I could see the fire in his eyes as it surged. From his seated position, he lost his shirt, pulling it from the back of his neck with one hand. Despite his bulk and size, it was like every move he made was fluid and graceful, and I pictured him on the ice, relaxed and in his element, comfortable in his own skin.

It was overwhelming to think about trying to give him all of that for his first time. But Cam was like this precious prince, the crown heavy on his head with the expectations of his family and his team and the NHL scouts. He deserved the best, and I would do my best for him.

He tried again to stand, but I didn’t let him, taking another step toward him and saying, “Lie down for me, my prince.” His eyes went wide at the endearment, and it stopped me in my tracks but only momentarily as I remembered that my whole goal was to make him feel comfortable. If I freaked out over the things my mouth said without the permission of my mind, there was no way my fragile prince wouldn’t freak out too. Fragile Campbell; his name was Campbell.

I took the last confident stride toward him and said again, “Lie back down for me.” He looked up at me with those big, imploring eyes, and I saw his hand twitch like he was going to run it through his hair again. I took it as a win when he didn’t. He nodded instead and did as I had asked.

“I want this to be so good for you, and I want it to be what you want. Do you trust me?” He looked uncomfortable under the heat of my gaze, but I could tell when he nodded that it was the truth.

I traveled to the end of the bed and gently lifted one of his legs, pulling off his sock. “I’m going to need to hear you say it, Finn.”

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Good.” I tossed the first sock and scrambled onto the bed, kneeling at his feet and lifting his other leg. I cradled it on my hip and pulled back to yank his other sock off. “But that being said, if you say stop, we stop.” Our eyes locked, and I hoped mine only showed concern and resolve and not whatever feeling my pounding heart wanted to convey. His serious expression matched mine, and he nodded earnestly.

I worked to lighten the mood with a smile as I gently laid his leg back on the bed and stroked the inside of his calf, pushing his pant leg up as far as it would stretch. “And if inspiration strikes”—I smiled—“and you feel the need to take over, you have my permission. I can’t imagine there’s anything you’d want from me that I wouldn’t give.” I continued to stroke his leg, tickling as high as I could reach.

“Josh,” he choked out, our eyes locked, the fingers of my left hand dancing and massaging the calf and ankle he had twisted, thinking about that first day and the air of exasperation that had surrounded him when he’d walked into the waiting room, and how it had dissipated as we’d talked and commiserated and joked with one another.

His huge body took up most of the small dorm-room bed, so I was half on top of him as I crawled my way up to meet him face-to-face. He kept his eyes on mine.

“Hi,” I said, my legs straddling one of his, my hardening cock pressed up against his thigh, his sticking out at an obscene angle, stretching and straining the soft material of his sweatpants.

“Hey.” He smiled back, and I think he thought we were going to snuggle again because he opened his arm as if he were offering up his chest as my pillow once more. I took that big arm and placed it over his head, where it rested angled on a pillow. I stretched to wrap my hand in his, which left me hovering over him, face-to-face still, my dick dangling and in danger of knocking against his.

Those puppy-dog eyes dove into mine, and I could see anxiousness and anticipation and hunger in his gaze as if I was in tune with his every emotion.

“Finn,” I whispered, shaking my head back and forth. In my mind I was saying no to whatever feelings were having a boxing match in my stomach, but I hoped my quirked lip and light eyes conveyed more of a what am I going to do with you feel to the tormented man below me.

“Shelley,” he returned, and then his patience was lost. His neck strained, and even that bulged with strength and health as he angled up and met me for a searing kiss. I kept my arm locked so that I wasn’t lying on top of him completely and tightened my grip on the hand that rested above our heads, but that wasn’t good enough for Campbell, and before long, he released my grip and wrapped both of those strong, warm arms around me.

I was flush against him then, chest to chest, my arousal trapped against his stomach, his brushing my thigh. I ran my fingers through his hair, and his hands found their way up and down my back. I was in a haze just from the taste of his lips and his hands tickling my spine, but eventually, I realized that Cam was hesitating. While he seemed all in on the kissing, his hands never ventured lower than the small of my back, his lower body remaining tensely still as if he were afraid for his dick to get in on the action.

“Campbell,” I implored, pulling back just enough to look into those expressive eyes, one hand holding his hair away from his face, the other running up and down his chest as if it had a mind of its own. I had to force my body to stop rocking atop his.

“Josh,” he countered and leaned up again to find my lips, but I lifted back slightly, and Campbell gave up the chase.

“I want you to touch me if you want.” I sat up. “I mean, you can if you want. I meant it when I said there wasn’t much I wouldn’t want with you.”

He looked so serious when he nodded. Nodded but didn’t speak.