Bet on Me (The Love's a Gamble Series Book 1)

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Bet on Me (The Love's a Gamble Series Book 1) Page 6

by Saxon James


  Fuck that.

  The thought of someone his size completely letting go makes me shiver.

  “I know it’s been a while for you,” I tease, “but it usually helps to be in the same room as the person you want to fuck.”

  “I…” He squeezes his eyes closed for a second. “Shouldn’t we, I dunno, talk about what happened?”

  It takes every bit of self-control I have not to roll my eyes. Instead, I start to pop open the buttons on my shirt. “You really want to talk right now?” As my fingers work, my focus drops to his broad chest, the definition under his t-shirt, his hips, and his long solid legs. I finally make it back to his face, finding Taryn’s gaze trained on my fingers.

  I work open another button, slowly dragging my hands to the next one, loving the feel of his eyes on me. By the time I free the final button, Taryn’s jaw is clenched so tight, the muscle is sticking out.

  “Fuck it.” He reaches back, grabs his shirt, and pulls it over his head in one swift move. My eyes widen at the sight of all that brown skin wrapped around drool worthy muscles. With three heavy steps, he closes the distance between us, immediately yanking my shirt from my shoulders and tossing it on the ground.

  I shiver as one hand smooths over the small of my back while the other buries in my hair. His fingers curl into a fist and grip tight, tilting my face up toward his. For a moment, Taryn doesn’t make another move. He’s breathing slightly heavier than normal as his dark eyes sweep over my face, pausing to take in certain details.

  I wait, curious.

  His lips part and almost form a word. I’m not sure what he’s planning to say but Taryn swallows back whatever it was and leans in instead. The feel of his lips brushing over mine is a complete contrast to the tight grip he keeps on my hair. I’m panting, itching to touch those muscles I caught a quick glimpse of, but I keep my hands at my sides, letting Taryn take control.

  Finally giving in, I grab his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss in a second flat. Taryn surges forward, tongue warring with mine as he pushes me back on the bed, climbing up to cover my body with his. As soon as his hot chest seals against mine, my hands drift lower—over his shoulders, down his back, across his ribs—until I’m gripping his hips, thumbs resting over his hard abs. And oh hell, it takes everything in me not to groan.

  Taryn’s hand slides farther across my back until his arm is tight around me, then he nudges my legs apart and settles between them. He presses his cock against mine, and my brain nearly explodes. It’s so hot, so fucking hot I immediately grind up into him.

  I scramble for his fly, not giving a shit about anything other than getting to feel him. I’ll jerk him off, suck him, let him fuck me, I don’t care. All I know is I need him naked.

  As soon as his fly is undone, I push up toward Taryn, and flip us so he falls back onto the bed. Going straight for his neck, I inhale a scent that’s fresh grass and toasted marshmallows. Taryn fucking Adderson smells like fucking marshmallows. I almost laugh, but my dick gives a throb, making it clear exactly how much I love that smell.

  I finally leave his neck and run my tongue over his collarbone. I pause for the briefest moment to take in his broad chest, tight muscles, and narrow hips, until I’m practically humping his leg, then I toss my glasses aside. To distract us both, I lean forward and clip his nipple with my teeth.

  “Oh, fuck, Elliot.” He groans, breathing getting shallower.

  Feeling bold, I kiss down his chest, then linger when I reach his stomach, and trace my lips and fingers over the ridges of his abs. He’s so fucking hot. He could literally have anyone. I’m dangerously, worryingly close to lifting my rule about one time only, but there’s no way I’m making a decision while I’m hard as a steel rod.

  Forcing myself to move on from his abs, down along his perfect V, I finally reach the elastic of his boxer briefs. I’m out of control, running on auto pilot, as I lick one long stripe between his hipbones. Easing up, I tug at Taryn’s jeans and he lifts his hips a little to help me get them off.

  Even with the boxer briefs separating me from what I really want, I can see the exact outline of Taryn’s cock. It’s impressive, and I can’t stop my hand from running down the length. Taryn hisses, bucking his hips up, and I chuckle quietly.

  “If you like that, you’re going to love this.” Leaning forward, I wrap my mouth over the head of his cock. The cotton dampens under my tongue and the heat from my breath warms the cotton. This time, I can’t stop my groan. I need him.

  Without missing a beat, I release him, grab the waistband of his underwear and yank it down. His cock jumps free, slapping back against his stomach, and I stare at the long, hard length for a moment before I wrap my hand around the silky skin and bring it back to my mouth.

  With nothing between us, my tongue traces a line over his slit, tasting the precum already leaking out. All it does is leave me wanting more.

  I lick around the head, then down his shaft, feeling my way along all the bumps and veins. His pubes are trimmed short, and I wonder if he did that specifically for tonight. For me. When I reach down to draw one of his balls into my mouth, I hum at how hot and heavy it is. I can’t stop glancing up at him, taking in his face. Lust has darkened his eyes and his mouth is parted, chest expanding quickly with each breath. But the emotion in his expression… something in my stomach flutters, and I quickly focus back on his abs.

  Taryn’s hips stutter, and I have a good feeling he’s not going to last long. I hurry to yank open my chinos and release my throbbing erection. It’s both a relief and a tease to finally touch myself, and I move back up, taking Taryn into the back of my throat. I start to stroke myself as I bob up and down while my free hand rubs his balls.

  Panting, dangerously close to the edge, I pull off with a gasp and meet his heavy stare. “What happened to being rough, big guy?”

  Taryn’s eyes widen a little. He stares at me, panting, with the type of glazed look that tells me he isn’t really with it.

  Hell, neither am I.

  Slowly, he reaches for my head. Hands slide over my cheeks until his fists both close in my hair and he eases me back toward his cock. My mouth opens eagerly, and Taryn slides in slowly, teasingly.

  Then he lets loose.

  Whatever reservations Taryn was trying to hold onto disappear as he fucks up into my face. His grip is almost painful, and I gag once or twice as the head of his cock rams down into my throat. Tears start to leak out as I try to swallow around him, but Taryn doesn’t let up, and the rougher he gets, the faster my hand moves. I’m jerking my cock so hard, almost detached from reality, and when Taryn starts to grunt and picks up the pace, that’s all it takes.

  My balls draw up and my hips jerk forward as cum shoots from my dick. I moan around Taryn’s cock and his rhythm trips, stutters, before he shoves forward and cum hits the back of my throat.

  A long groan rumbles from his chest as I swallow down every last bit. Slowly his hold relaxes, and as I start to lick his cock clean, he smooths a hand over my face, catching the stray tears.

  Then I make the mistake of looking up at him.

  His expression is soft as he watches me and it knocks something askew in my chest. I can’t look away.

  “Come here,” he murmurs.

  I hurry to wipe my hand on the sheet and crawl up the bed. His pupils are still blown wide and as soon as I’m close enough, he pulls me down into a kiss. His hand steadies the back of my neck and despite what happened barely a minute ago, he’s gentle, slow as his tongue strokes mine. That loose piece in my chest vibrates, but I force the feeling away.

  Taryn’s fingers trail lightly from my cheek to my throat and he pulls back enough that I can make out his slightly shocked expression.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  His question makes me laugh. I flop down onto my pillow, needing some distance, and spare him a grin. “Yeah, a bit.”

  “Oh, shit. Elliot, I—”

  “It was hot
.”

  He pauses and frowns a little. “You liked it?”

  I hum, resting my hand where his fingers were a second ago, swallowing against the dull ache. “I shot my load like a firehose. So yeah, I think we’re good.”

  Taryn’s wide smile stretches across his face as he kicks off his jeans and tucks himself back inside his briefs. He collapses next to me, closing his eyes. Then, like he can feel me watching him, he squints one eye open and peeks out at me. “Don’t worry. I’ll head off in a minute.”

  “You’re leaving?” I don’t know why that thought is so odd. Usually I’m hurrying guys out the door after we’ve both come. It’s usually right around that time that the discomfort kicks in.

  “You made your stance on tonight perfectly clear.” He sounds annoyed.

  “Well, Philly is a bit of a drive. You should stay tonight and head home in the morning.”

  Taryn’s eyes are closed again, but it’s clear he’s thinking hard. “Okay, cool.”

  “I mean, you’re already here. Seems stupid to make you turn around and head home now.”

  I shift a little as Taryn rolls toward me and fixes me with a frown. “I said, cool.”

  “Good. Alright then.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Elliot…” I shiver at how deep Taryn’s voice goes when he says my name. “If you want me to leave, say it.”

  That’s the weird thing though, I don’t. Even before he showed up and I got a look at him in real life, I had been planning on him staying the night as we traded mind blowing orgasms. I’ve gotten one out of him, but I definitely wouldn’t say no to another. I reach out and run a hand over his bicep and up to his shoulder. “Please, stay.”

  He kisses me again. “Gladly.”

  Chapter Nine

  The last thing I want to do is be one of those creepy guys who watches people while they sleep, but there’s something about Elliot’s face that I like to look at. And his chest, and his arms, and his… damn, he’s pretty.

  It’s late morning by the time he starts to stir and I can’t blame him. We were up most of the night, making the most of our one time together, and while that might not be my choice, I’ll respect it. That said, I didn’t want to skip out while he was still sleeping because I need to be clear on what happens next. Is this it? Or can we still talk as long as we’re both aware fooling around is off the table?

  That would be a damn shame. Last night was one of the most enjoyable of my life.

  And even though I knew we had a timer over our heads, I didn’t fuck him. Damn I wanted to, but then I’d look at him and those fucking butterflies would start again, and I knew if I wanted to be able to walk away today, that couldn’t happen.

  Elliot is like a lifeline in an intimidating world of dating. Sure, I could hide in the closet my entire life, but I’m a relationship guy. It’s not even really about the sex but knowing I have someone, a partner-in-crime, who has my back, who’s always there.

  I snort and drop back, stretching my arms above my head. Always there. What a joke that sentiment is.

  Elliot lets out a groan and rolls onto his side, slowly starting to breach that place between sleep and awake. His eyes are unfocused as they come into view so I reach over him, bumping his shoulder slightly with my chest, and grab his glasses.

  “Morning,” he mumbles, voice sounding rough as gravel.

  “Hey…” I don’t want this to be awkward, but I feel like that’s unavoidable. After such intense chemistry, I can’t stop replaying the way Elliot said this was one night only. It seems like such a waste. “Sorry. I’ll head out soon.”

  “Yeah, I’m a bit surprised you’re still here.”

  Ouch. “I slept late.” The annoyance is clear in my tone as I throw off the covers and go to stand up. Elliot’s hand latches onto my forearm before I can make it too far.

  “It’s not a bad thing…” When I don’t go to move again, he eases his hand off me and flops back against the pillows. “Most guys normally bail before we get to this part.”

  “What part?”

  “The dreaded morning-after goodbye.”

  I shift around, enough to look at him but not enough to get comfortable. “Why is it dreaded?”

  “Because it’s awkward as shit.”

  “Maybe you’re the one who makes it awkward.” I cross my arms, very aware of the fact I’m only in my underwear. And given my cock was rammed down his throat last night, that thought shouldn’t make me feel nearly as exposed as it does.

  Elliot shrugs, drawing my attention to his tan, lean shoulders. “You’re still a rookie at this, so I’ll go easy on you.” He winks.

  “I’m likely to be a rookie for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not like I can go around hooking up with people.”

  He hums. “You’ll have to find a dark club somewhere, and you’ll be a pro in no time. I don’t think there’s a person alive who’d turn you down.”

  My cheeks start to feel warm. “Except you, apparently.”

  Elliot sighs, pushing up to face me properly, gripping the sheet in one hand to cover his hips. “Oh no, even I’m not exempt from that list.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but there’s plenty we didn’t do last night that I’d love to try out.” My mouth goes dry as I make the suggestion.

  “I agree.” His words climb, making me aware of what’s coming next. “But…”

  Groaning, I push to my feet. Without looking at Elliot, I hunt down my jeans and tug them on. “I might be a rookie, but I know what that word means.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Nope.” But I am. “You made it perfectly clear this wasn’t a repeat thing.”

  I try not to look at him, try so hard to ignore the way his dark blond hair brushes his jaw and the way his lips curl up, prettily perched beneath his beauty spot. Most guys are small compared to me, but Elliot doesn’t feel little or fragile, he feels—fuck it. I’m not going down that road. I yank on my t-shirt then start the hunt for my hat.

  “Over here,” he says dryly, pointing toward his side of the bed.

  I grunt out a quick thanks, jam the hat on my head, then make for the door. I’m already out of his bedroom and halfway down the hall when I realize I can’t leave yet. If I walk out of here without my answers, I’ll go crazy the whole way home. With a heavy sigh, I turn on my heel and make my way back, the creaking floorboards giving away my approach.

  Elliot’s lying back on the bed, arms over his face, and when I clear my throat, he peeks out from beneath one elbow. “You’re still here.”

  I shrug. “Rookie, remember?”

  He chokes back what sounds like a laugh. “Why?”

  “I know you said last night was it, but we don’t have to stop talking… right?”

  He eyes me, and I don’t like the way his expression settles on regret. “It’s probably best.”

  “Well, why?”

  Elliot hides back behind his arms but the hitch in his voice gives him away. “Because it’s the smart thing to do.”

  “Football players aren’t exactly known for being smart.”

  “Stereotyping are we, Taryn?”

  I lift my bulky shoulders. “If the sneaker fits.” I can’t do this. I can’t walk away from here knowing we won’t talk again.

  I’m not sure if I’m supposed to hear the soft groan Elliot lets out, but it carries across the room toward me anyway. Finally, he sits up, throws off the sheet, and I get a view of his bare white ass before he wriggles into some shorts. Commando. I urge my dick to settle at the sight of all that gorgeous toned skin.

  “Come on. I’ll make us some coffee.”

  I leave Elliot’s room again, this time following him to the other end of the derelict apartment. Once we’re in the kitchen, he flicks on the coffee maker then turns, crossing his arms over his chest and propping back against the counter.

>   “I don’t exactly have the most, ah, impressive career out there,” he mutters.

  “Why would I care? Even if you… I dunno, clean toilets, it’s still a hardworking job.”

  Elliot shakes his head. “Maybe I should have said what I do isn’t the most legal career.”

  I recoil a little, even as he hands over a mug of coffee. “Are you a rent boy?” I try not to let those words freak me out because he’s been nothing but trustworthy so far, but I can’t stop the way my heart takes off at a gallop as my career flashes before my eyes.

  Elliot snickers. “No. Actually…” He pauses to scratch the end of his nose. “I’m a bookmaker. My whole job is to take money from men who are betting on men like you.”

  I suck in a breath. Not legal is right. And given that betting is illegal in the US, associating with someone involved in the industry definitely won’t reflect well on me.

  “My job is assessing how NFL players are fitting into their teams and what kind of on-field presence they evoke. Then I work stats on who will get touchdowns and who will score first, that kind of thing.”

  “How the hell can your whole job focus on me and my teammates, but you didn’t recognize me when we met?”

  Elliot flicks the arm of his glasses. “I wasn’t wearing these. Plus, I might study the teams on paper, but I don’t know what most of you actually look like. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you guys wear helmets out there.”

  “Okay…” I draw in a long breath and place my coffee cup on the counter before crossing my arms over my chest. My head is a mess with this new information and what it could mean for my career, yet the only thought I can latch onto is that I don’t want Elliot to disappear. “I guess I still don’t know why we can’t hang out.”

  The look Elliot gives me is half pity, half exasperation. “Because, T, you’re watched, closely, and imagine the kind of shitstorm that would come if our friendship got out right after you fumbled a pass that lost the game. Imagine if you made some honest mistake in a game where my clients bet big against your team. A mistake that made a lot of people a lot of money. What do you think would happen then?”

 

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