Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“That’s it, swirl your tongue like that. Oh fuccck.”
I could tell he was getting close. I picked up my pace, grabbing his thighs and pulling him closer to me, gagging on his size but not stopping. He wasn’t the only one getting close.
“Where do you want me to come?” he asked.
I answered by not even pausing for air. I used one hand to cup his tight balls and the other to jerk myself off, my orgasm pushing closer and closer and closer.
Miles tilted his head back and groaned as he emptied himself into my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed every last drop of his salty-sweet cum, blowing my own load onto the floor as ecstasy from the taste of him overwhelmed me. I pulled off his cock and fell back on my ass, breathless and completely satiated. I wiped my wet mouth with the back of my hand and smiled up at a blissed-out Miles. For a brief moment I was fearful I’d see regret reflected back at me in those deep hazel-green eyes, but instead all I saw was admiration and affection.
“Wow,” I said. Miles held a hand out. I grabbed it and he helped me back up onto my feet. I felt like a damn newborn fawn. My knees trembled, my lungs expanding to capture as much air as possible. As if I were taking my first breath. Like hooking up with Miles had made me reborn.
I wasn’t a religious guy, but I couldn’t deny that being on my knees for Miles brought me very close to heaven.
Miles grinned. He passed a thumb across my lips and then brought it to his own. That action alone started getting me hard all over again. I would have stayed in this bathroom all damn night if I could.
He leaned in and kissed me again, our chubby dicks rubbing together, still dripping. “You’re trouble,” he said, his forehead resting against mine. He inhaled deeply, as if taking in my scent.
“So are you,” I replied, kissing him back. I wrapped my arms around him and held him against me. It felt like stepping into my home after being away for months and months on end. A comfort I didn’t know existed washed over me in that moment.
Please, fate, don’t have messed this one up. Please.
I heard some commotion outside the bathroom. “Let’s clean up,” I said in between soft kisses. “I think they’re about to start the fireworks.”
“Think they’ll be better than ours?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
A shoulder slammed into me and stapled me to the boards. I let out a pained grunt and pushed back, ice kicking up in a thick cloud under my blades. The puck escaped my possession and was taken over the red line and into our defensive zone. Chris tried to intercept but was blocked right as the other team took their shot. The puck flew across the ice like a tiny black comet.
Soren dropped to his knees and tried to block it with his pads. The puck slipped right through and slammed into the net. An airhorn went off.
Another point.
Fuck.
That one could definitely have been prevented, and it was all because I missed passing it to an open Eli. I saw him primed and ready and was about to pass the puck when I took a deep breath and caught a whiff of Miles sitting just a few feet away from me on the bench. It was a split second of a silly distraction that could have very well cost us the entire game.
That wasn’t like me. Hockey was my thing. When I was in the rink, nothing else mattered except winning. I’d always been laser-focused on the game. It had been my escape from all the stressors and bullshit in life. Just me, my stick, the puck, and the goal.
It was a rookie mistake and one that gave me a flush of embarrassment, made worse when Coach shouted for me to get on the bench. I skated to him and jumped over the wall, being replaced by Kyle, another forward on the team who’d only started a couple months ago.
It should have been me out there, but I wasn’t going to fight it.
“What the fuck was that, Dyl?” Coach Julian was furious. He shouted at me over his shoulder as he kept the majority of his attention out on the ice. We were down by two with three minutes left. It was a done deal after I had let that puck escape me.
The reprimand hit even worse with Miles sitting in earshot. I couldn’t look in his direction. It gave me bitter flashbacks to being a kid and getting reamed by my father for my shit grades. Sometimes it would happen when I had friends over, playing video games and eating pizza. Then my dad would burst in with a failed test he discovered after looking through my bookbag and would completely chew me out, only telling my friends to leave after he had sufficiently made me feel like a moron.