Page 74 of Line Change

Nolan’s ass clamps around me. Come spills hot over my hand and across his stomach, one hard pulse after another while I keep fucking him through it. He tries to say my name, but only a broken sound comes out. He holds on to me and takes every stroke until his legs start to slip from my waist.

His ass keeps clenching around me while his come slicks my fist. I bury myself as deep as I can and come. My back locks as pleasure tears through my thighs, my cock pulsing inside him until I have nothing left.

For a few seconds, neither of us can move.

Then Nolan’s legs slide down to the mattress. His arms do the same, leaving him spread out and limp beneath me.

I ease out carefully. He makes a soft, unhappy noise at the loss but doesn’t open his eyes. I tie off the condom and drop it into the trash, then take a washcloth into the bathroom and run it under warm water.

Nolan is in the same position when I come back. “You alive?”

“Don’t make me answer questions.”

I clean the come from his stomach and hand. He lets me move his arm out of the way, then turns onto his side when I wipe the lube from between his legs.

By the time I throw the washcloth over the edge of the sink, he’s dragged down the covers. I get in beside him, planning to stay long enough for my breathing to settle.

Nolan’s hand moves over my chest and down my stomach. His touch is loose and lazy now. It passes my hip, then slides over my ass.

“Your curiosity ever lead you⁠—”

“No.”

He laughs into the pillow. His fingers trace the crease before settling over one cheek.

My answer was true. I’ve never wanted anybody to do that to me.

His thumb moves once, close enough that an image slips into my head anyway: Nolan behind me, his mouth on my back, one slick finger pressing inside.

I don’t move his hand.

Nolan falls asleep first. His breathing evens out while his palm stays warm and heavy on my ass.

I should go back to my room. It’s a short walk down the hall, and everything I need is there.

His knee slides between mine when he shifts closer.

I can leave when he moves his hand.

He doesn’t. I fall asleep beside him.

21

NOLAN

Nara smooths the last strip of black tape over my shoulder and presses the end down with her thumb.

“Give it a minute before you put your shirt on.”

I roll my shoulder carefully. The tape pulls across my skin but nothing pinches. “Good?”

“For now. Tell me if it changes on the ice.”

She turns toward Anton, who’s waiting on the other table with one skate off and a complaint ready. My stall is less than ten steps away, and pulling a tight base layer over fresh tape in the treatment room would be stupid. I pick up the shirt and walk through the open door into the main locker room.

The room is loud enough that I hear Bobby before I see him. He’s telling someone why the last goal in practice yesterday should count toward whatever competition he has invented for this week. A couple of guys are dressed already. The rest are in various stages of gear, talking across the room while skate blades knock against the rubber floor.

Bobby stops talking.