by Saxon James
“That’s… wow.” I stare at him, a little in awe that he did all that and still managed grad school. I go to say more but Elliot laughs and presses his fingers to my lips.
“Hell no on the sympathy front, Taryn. It made me who I am and maybe it makes me a dick to say it, but I like this guy.”
I crack a smile. “I like this guy too.”
“Good. Then you’re going to have to deal with the fact that this guy is on a mission to build his own nest egg. I’ve lived with rich people before, people who promised to take care of me, and I learned very fast that if they have money and you don’t, they own you. I don’t ever want to be owned again.”
I nod, wishing I had the words to explain that I don’t want to own him. Have him, yes. Keep him, definitely. But it’s absolutely not the time for that. “I understand.”
“Good. So now do you get why I’m worried about losing all his money? I need this job.”
My hands close tightly over Elliot’s waist. “But bad months happen sometimes. If you’ve never had one before, surely he’ll let this go.”
Elliot gives me a dry look. “You have no idea… I’m talking tens of thousands here, Taryn.”
“Crap, that’s—”
“Not good, yeah. But on the flip side, I earned over double on one game than what I normally earn in a week.”
“Then focus on that. Your boss might be a bit of a dick for a few weeks, but I’m sure he’ll get over it when you turn in your next month.”
Elliot’s expression doesn’t change for a minute as he thinks it over. Finally, the lines on his forehead ease. “You’re probably right,” he mutters.
“I am right.” I hope.
But whether I’m lying or not, it doesn’t matter when Elliot smiles at me. It’s small and soft and when he reaches up to run a thumb over my cheek, I melt under his touch. My chest does this warm fuzzy thing as my stomach flips out.
“If your boss gives you shit,” I say on a breath, “send him my way.”
Elliot chuckles then leans forward and sweeps a kiss over my nose. “Going to defend my honor, are you?”
“Always.”
“Hmm… I like the sound of that. You, shirtless, those muscles being put to good use as you turn into a chest-beating caveman.”
“I can think of better things to do with my muscles.”
He laughs lightly, smoothing his thumb over my cheek again. “Thank you.”
“Huh? For what?”
He turns away a little, dropping his face so a chunk of hair falls forward. “I don’t know… You’re just… you.” He shifts uncomfortably, and while my cock tries to perk up at the feel of his ass, I remind myself this isn’t the time. I smooth my hands up his back, pulling him forward and into a hug.
“You never have to thank me. I…” How do I tell him? How do I let him know that this has moved past something casual for me? That I can see us having an actual relationship, and it terrifies the crap out of me. I’m not ready to give up on football but I’m not ready to come out yet. And risking this? Fuck, I don’t know if I can do it.
I’m not sure who kisses who first, but somehow it’s everything I need and more. Slow and purposeful. Unhurried. Instead of trying to put into words the way my feelings are spiraling out of control, I show him through my kiss, through the way my tongue wraps around his and my hands rub smoothly over his back, wanting to take in and feel every inch of this amazing man.
When I finally stand and carry him inside, I lay him in front of the fireplace. His skin lights up golden under the fire, and I only leave him for long enough to grab a condom and lube. I’m not in a hurry, and I peel off his shirt and place it beside us. He tries to tug mine off, but I slow him down, not wanting this to be another random fuck between us. I’m not sure that I can make it anything more than what it is, but I’m hit with an overwhelming urge to treasure him, to show him the way he should be treated. And maybe it’s the feelings talking, but as I slide off his pants and kiss along his stomach and give his cock long, slow strokes, he’s never looked more beautiful. His glasses reflect back the glow from the fire, so I tug them off, wanting to see his eyes.
It doesn’t take long for me to have Elliot writhing beneath me, and as much as I want to pull back and watch my fingers disappearing into his ass, my gaze is glued to his face. I catch every moan and pant and filthy word that leaves his mouth. When he finally starts to beg, I roll the condom on, lube up, and go to position myself at his entry, but like every other time, Elliot tries to wriggle away from me.
My stomach drops and my heart lurches painfully, but I bite back all the things I want to say and grab his waist, holding firm. “Like this?” I can hear the pleading in my voice, but I don’t particularly care. And as I stare into his hazel eyes, trying to convey I want more than just a fuck, he draws his bottom lip between his teeth.
His throat constricts as he swallows and then his hands find my face and pull me forward into a kiss. He lies back, taking me with him, closing my hips in with his thighs.
I take it as permission.
We kiss deeply as I push in, giving in to the amazing feel of Elliot’s body flush up against mine.
It’s not enough, though. I’m not sure it ever will be. And as I grind into him, savoring every moment, I reach up and wrap my hands around his, linking our fingers together as I pin his hands above his head. I breathe in the smell of sweat and his shampoo and try to keep my head in check as I grow increasingly blissed out.
“You’re so beautiful,” I pant against his ear. “Beautiful. You feel so good. So tight. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” My mouth is running away from me, and every thought passing through my mind falls from my lips, but I’m way too caught up in him to care.
Elliot’s breathing speeds up. “Taryn, I need… I need…”
I release one of his hands, running my palm down his arm, along his side, head spinning at the feel of his skin. My hand slips between us and wraps around his dick, and I start to pump him to the rhythm of my increasing thrusts. “I’ve got you, baby. Come for me.”
His moans get louder and more needy and I lean down to swallow every sound. The second my tongue sweeps into his mouth, Elliot comes, spurt after spurt coating my fist. Releasing his cock, I wrap my arm around his waist, holding him to me, squeezing his hand as I rut into him, my hips completely out of control. Tingles race from my stomach down into my balls.
“F-fffuck…” I cry as I unleash, cum pumping into the condom as I keep thrusting, chasing every last millisecond of pleasure.
When it’s finished, I collapse against him, smearing cum between us and claiming his mouth with mine. I kiss him until my jaw is aching, and then I kiss him some more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Taryn doesn’t leave my side for the rest of our time away. When we get massages, we go together. When the sun rises, he takes my hand and pulls me out to the front deck, wrapping his arms around me from behind. We eat and shower and sleep—actually sleep—together and he touches me the whole time.
And the thing is… I touch him too.
His smile every time I do is addictive.
Our last night at the cottage we sit on the front deck, sand dunes blocking us mostly from view of the rest of the beach, while leaving enough room for a view of the water. It’s peaceful, and I don’t want to leave. For the first time since we got here, Taryn’s agreed to have a couple of drinks with me. I’ve made pizza and sangria, and Taryn moans again around the bite he’s taken.
“Please never leave me,” he groans.
I smirk. “Regular orgasms and home cooked meals. What else could you need?”
He pauses to look over at me as he wipes some stray sauce from his face. “More than one night a week?”
I quickly stifle my sharp inhale, pretending to be hyper-focused on my drink. “Yeah, I don’t know how we’d make that work.” But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it too. It’s only been a fe
w days, and already the thought of going home and being ripped away from him is too much. But it’s coming. And when it does, I’ll be back at work, and Taryn will be back playing football, and no matter how much we wish they did, those two things don’t mix.
I consider checking to see if he has plans for Thanksgiving next week, but I’m pretty sure he’s got something going on with his family, and the last thing I want is an awkward pity invite.
I sense Taryn has looked away before I finally chance a glance back over. His jaw is set as he places his pizza slice back on the plate and then stares out over the dunes. “We don’t need to know if it would work. All we need is to figure out whether we want to see each other more than that. Because if we do, we’ll make it work.”
“And, you do?” I rub my thumb over the rim of my glass. “Is that what you’re saying?”
A burst of air leaves him, and his brown eyes meet mine. The vulnerability in them makes my heart falter, and instinctually, I know what he’s asking. He’s not asking for more opportunities to fuck. He’s asking for more.
“Yes.” His voice is rough. “These past few days, it’s been like…”
“Having a boyfriend.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Well… yeah.”
I nod, setting my glass aside and turning toward him. “I know what you mean.”
“But you don’t want a boyfriend.”
“I…” Don’t know how to answer that, actually. “I never have before. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed every minute with you. I’ve felt a little overwhelmed by it, if I’m honest.”
He frowns. “So what are you saying?”
“I don’t know really. I don’t know what it means, but I do know I want to see you more than one night a week too.”
Taryn’s smile breaks through, white teeth against dark stubble, and he’s so fucking sexy I can’t believe I’ve been able to wake up next to him the past few days. “I could drive up after training most nights. I mean, an hour both ways isn’t ideal, but it’s not terrible either.”
“You’re going to spend all that time driving back and forth? What about your friends? Your family?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t have a ton of friends. And maybe sometimes you could stay at my place and—”
I cut him off with a laugh. “I take it you’ve been thinking about this.”
His face drops, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. “I’m not saying we make this serious. I’m just throwing out ideas on how to make this work.”
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I whisper.
“You have?”
“Yes. Of course.” But trying for a relationship doesn’t make sense, and if we have to force it, we’ll both walk away hurt when it blows up in our faces. Long-distance relationships don’t work, even if it’s only an hour. “Let’s… take our time with it,” I say.
He cocks his head at my words.
“Maybe instead of trying to throw a label on us, we give it a, ah, trial? See if we can even make something work?” I suggest.
He frowns. “That sounds alright.”
“It means less pressure. We’re already exclusive, and we’re already fucking. The only difference is I’m allowed to fall for you without feeling like I’m fucking this thing up. You still focus on your career, and I’ll keep chipping away at my goal.”
“Can… can I call you my boyfriend?”
I blow out a huge gust of air. “You want to take my boyfriend virginity, don’t you?” I’m joking to buy myself time.
“Elliot…” He knows what I’m doing. Taryn sees me. “You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it.”
I nod. “This is all new to me. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel so unsettled.”
“That had better be in a good way,” he says, pulling me from my chair and into his lap, which is possibly my favorite place to be.
I dust light kisses over his cheek. “It’s horrible. Excruciating.” I drop my voice. “I’m”—I swallow—“I’m kinda terrified.”
Taryn’s warm laugh is unexpected. I shove his shoulder, but he quickly catches my hand and brushes a kiss across my knuckles. “You’re hot when you’re terrified.”
“Are you kidding? I’m hot always. You’re lucky to have me.”
“Can’t disagree there. I’m going to keep you as long as you’ll let me.”
I hide my smile in his neck, not wanting him to know what those words do to me. I’m not really even sure how to voice the warmth that takes over, but I like it. And even acknowledging that is crazy new territory.
I want to tell him I’ll miss him tomorrow. I want to tell him I’ve enjoyed our time together more than I thought I would. I want to tell him that even though my boss has blown up my phone the past few days, Taryn has made it easy to ignore him. He’s made it easy to not dwell and obsess over what will happen when we get back.
But we have to go back.
His hand rubs circles on my back as the sun sets and we get drunk off sangria, and we steal kisses between stupid jokes and sweet nothings. His eyes scrunch up every time he laughs, and I can’t stop drinking him in.
When we finally go to bed, Taryn’s soft and sweet, and I wonder if maybe this is what it’s like to fall in love.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My time away with Elliot has proved this is more than just sex to me. We can agree to take it slow or casual or whatever, but there’s no more denying I’ve caught feelings in a big way. When I’m with him, it feels right. I’d do anything for him.
Which is why I’m bracing my forearm against the tiled shower wall as I attempt to shove a finger up my own ass.
It’s… not going well. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing wrong because it’s not like I’m a stranger to the whole experience. The few times I’ve prepped Elliot, he’s seemed to get into it, but every time I prod at my entrance, I cringe and yank my hand away.
I feel like a dickhead.
Remembering Elliot’s words about having two hands, I replace my forearm with my forehead and reach down to grab my flaccid dick. It’s all mental, I remind myself. Normally, I’m the one in control, but letting Elliot fuck me means I’ll be giving it up, and that’s probably my biggest sticking point. I refuse to focus on the fact that because I’m bigger it means I should be doing the fucking because it’s all a load of shit, and every time that thought tries to sneak in, I grit my teeth and try again.
This time when I slip my finger between my ass cheeks and rub over my hole, I close my eyes and stroke myself slowly. As the water beats over my neck and back, I picture Elliot here with me. I picture his tight hole as I push forward. My dick twitches with interest but as soon as I relax enough to breach my hole, the stretch is painful around the tip of my finger and my cock completely taps out of this round.
I tense up, jaw locked, and after another solid minute of trying to relax and trying to get my dick back in the game, I sag against the wall, defeated. What a complete bust.
Still, it was a first attempt. Next time I’ll get hard first and maybe it’ll be a bit easier.
I wrap my towel around my waist as I walk into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, my shoulder twinging in protest when I pull open the fridge door. Apparently, sex prep makes you thirsty. My cell buzzes across my kitchen counter, and I glance over hoping it might be Elliot.
I have a brief moment of hope before it all crashes down when I see Liam’s name.
Huffing out a breath, I quickly answer before the call goes through to voicemail. “Yeah?”
“Way to sound happy to hear from me,” he jokes.
I grumble nonsense words, but I’m sure he gets the point.
“Rough day?”
“Let’s just say it hasn’t been pleasant.” Between the failed butt stuff and not hearing from Elliot since last night, I’m not the most pleasant person to be around.
I can practically hear him thinking. “Need t
o talk about it?”
“Not really. My shoulder’s acting up a bit, but the team doc says I’ll be fine for next game.”
“Geez. That’s good, I guess. It just doesn’t seem like something that would get you down.”
“Football is literally all I have left, so yeah, it’s getting me down.”
He sighs. I don’t know why he’s bothered calling, I’m not exactly nice to him. “Taryn, we’ve been friends a long time. Longer even than we were dating. Are you going to hate me forever?”
I walk back to the couch and flop down onto it. “I don’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I dunno… Liam, it’s shit. Everything. I hear your voice and remember the person I trusted more than anything. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what I can talk to you about. I don’t know if I even want to talk to you.”
“You can talk to me about anything. We might not be dating, but I never wanted to cut you out completely.” His soft voice deepens. “We’ve always been friends first. We were way better at that than boyfriends. I miss it.”
I don’t even need to think about my answer. “Yeah, I miss it too.”
He lets out a relieved breath. “Then can I call you without you getting snappy at me?”
“I dunno. I’m a grumpy bastard sometimes.”
He chuckles, and it makes me feel lighter. I really did miss him. “I know. Sometimes you have the emotional bandwidth of a three-year-old.”
“Can’t argue there.” I’m smiling, and it feels good. The worry about football and about Elliot starts to lessen.
“Want to tell me about the guy?” he finally asks. My instinct is to deny it—no ex-boyfriend wants to hear about that shit—but there’s no judgement in his tone. It’s one of the amazing things about Liam. He’s so damn levelheaded it made me look even more immature by comparison.
