I uncap the marker. “Yeah.”
17
BEN
Fraser gets three steps into my condo before he stops.
I lock the door while he peers down the hall at the two unpacked boxes in my second bedroom.
“How long have you lived here?”
“Long enough.”
He looks at the bare kitchen counter. “Did you own anything before you got traded?”
“It came furnished.”
“I can tell.”
I invited him here to suck his cock. He walks farther into the room anyway, taking in the television, the empty shelves, and the pair of running shoes beside the door.
“It’s temporary,” I say.
Fraser turns toward me. “So is a hotel. They still put lamps in those.”
“There are three lamps.”
“Those belong to the team.”
I cross the room and catch the front of his shirt. “Do you want to keep counting my furniture?”
His grin appears before I kiss him. “Depends what you invited me over for.”
I put my mouth over his.
His grin is still there, and I feel it against my mouth. I catch his jaw and kiss him harder until he opens for me.
Fraser’s hands go under my T-shirt. Mine find the hem of his hoodie. We lose each other’s mouths long enough to pull clothes over our heads, then his back hits the wall beside one of the team-issued lamps.
“Careful,” he says when it wobbles. “That’s one-third of your personal style.”
I bite his lower lip.
The joke ends in a rough sound. That’s better.
His hoodie and shirt land in the middle of my otherwise empty floor. Bare skin and dark ink take over the gray wall, and I push him harder against it.
I slide my palm over the tattoo along his ribs. Fraser shivers, then catches the back of my neck and pulls me in again. His tongue sweeps into my mouth. One of his thighs pushes between mine while he palms me through my sweatpants.
I’m already hard. He rubs the heel of his hand over the head until I thrust against him.
“Is this what you invited me over for?” he asks.
“Some of it.”
“You going to show me the rest?”
I walk him backward. The couch catches him behind the knees, but he grabs my shoulders before he falls and takes me down with him.