by Eden Finley
We make our way down the side of the house, but when we reach the front yard, he spins on his heel and backs me up, pushing me against the clapboard façade.
“What—” I try to ask, but then his mouth is on mine again. Just as punishing as in front of his family, only this time his hands go wandering too.
I allow myself exactly three seconds of this insanity before pushing him away. “You told them the truth.” My words come out all breathy, and I have to clear my throat.
“So?”
“So why are you kissing me? We’re not … you know … together.”
Ollie cups my face. “Because after that? I don’t care if we were lying to them. I want something real. I want …”
The hesitance and doubt must take over, because he can’t finish his sentence.
“I want you too,” I whisper.
We don’t make the mistake of promising anything long-term or even official. We just finally give in to what we’ve been trying to avoid.
He pushes me against the side of the house again, a little too hard this time.
I grunt.
“Fuck, are you okay?”
“I told you that day when you shoved me into the pressroom that I don’t mind being manhandled.”
That’s enough permission for him. Ollie groans and pushes against me, bending slightly so his hips line up with mine, and I let out an involuntary whimper.
“I need … I need …” His mouth is so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips. “I need us to disappear.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve wanted you since I met you, even on the days I thought I hated you.”
“Aww, sweet.” I have to bring out the sarcasm because my skin heats, and I’m terrified I’m blushing at the sentiment.
He ignores me. Instead, he leans in farther and puts his lips to my ear. “Do you know how hard it’s been these last few hours to not touch you?”
“You’ve touched me. They thought we were boyfriends.”
He’s been holding my hand and doing boyfriendly things like getting me drinks, subtly touching the small of my back, and staying super close. Like crossing personal space boundaries close.
“I’ll rephrase,” Ollie says with a small smile. “I haven’t been able to touch you inappropriately.” A hand comes between us and moves over the bulge in my pants. “And then you standing up for me in front of my whole family? Doing something I’ve never been brave enough to do? I can’t wait any longer.”
I throw my head back, hitting the side of the house with a thud, but I don’t care. When this guy touches me … “Okay, yeah, we need to disappear.”
“Attic,” he growls.
We make our way to the front door and open it as quietly as possible, but it squeaks and then so do the hardwood floors when our feet step over the threshold. And then the sound of kids screaming and laughing comes from the living room.
We both freeze. Ollie tilts his head back out the front door.
With light steps, we head back outside.
“Don’t suppose one of these cars is yours?” Ollie glances out at the sea of cars filling the driveway, front yard, and street.
“I didn’t get a rental. I took an Uber.”
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“Do you ever feel like the universe is trying to cockblock us? Your teammates coming back to the hotel when they shouldn’t be, your mom walking in on us, a gaggle of children providing a less than sexy soundtrack in the background …”
“We’re doing this. Fuck the universe.”
I slump. “Oh, man, why’d you have to go and say that? You’re gonna get hit by a bus tomorrow for sure.”
“And you think hockey players are superstitious.”
“Don’t come crying to me when you’re splattered all over the windshield of a bus. Just sayin’.”
“Well, if my fate is already sealed, I guess you better make the most of me while I’m still here.” Ollie glances out at the front yard, and his eyes catch on an old treehouse in the giant tree a few feet from the fence that lines the road.
The glimmer in his eye as he takes my hand should scare me, but all I can feel is excitement.
Chapter Nineteen
OLLIE
Kissing Lennon is even better than scoring on the ice. The second I pull him up through the trapdoor of the treehouse, his mouth is on mine, and his body is pressed against me. Not that there’s much room up here for him to be far apart from me.
Lennon lets out a tiny squeak when my hand trails down his back and grasps his ass.
It’s like being back in peewee hockey and taking to my skates those first few times. Adrenaline, nerves, the desire to fly without falling … the newness of it all has my hands trembling and my body aching with need.
The treehouse is cramped, and I have to hunch over to even fit in here. The place is dusty, covered in cobwebs and dead leaves, and it’s probably not structurally safe anymore, but I don’t care.
I need this. My lips break away from his and trail down his cheek, past the light stubble on his neck, and down to his shoulder. The material of his T-shirt is not as tasty as his skin.
“Off,” I murmur.
“I dunno. I’m kind of scared of getting tetanus in here or something.”
I chuckle. “Fine. I’ll just have to find somewhere to put my mouth without removing any clothing.”
“Sounds like a fun challenge.”
As I get to my knees, my back scrapes the side of the treehouse. “Ouch. There’s really no room in here. I remember it being a lot bigger when I was a kid.”
Lennon laughs. “I bet.”
“This is so not how I imagined this going,” I say. I think I’ve got a splinter in my back.
“You imagined this?”
“Not exactly, but I was definitely hoping for some of this.” My hand moves over his cock, and he shudders with a small moan. “I’d planned on doing it after the game tomorrow night and worm my way into your hotel room.” My voice goes all high and innocent. “It’s too late to drive back to my parents’ house. I’m tired. I promise I won’t jump you as soon as we get there.”
“And then you were going to jump me?” He’s breathless now as I continue to rub his cock over his jeans.
“Actually, I was going to be so damn irresistible you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and you’d jump me.”
“Brilliant plan,” he taunts.
“Flawless.”
“You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Confident.” I reach for the button on his jeans.
The light mood jumps out the crudely cut window, along with all the air—if Lennon’s gasp when I unzip him and pull out his cock is anything to go by.
His legs wobble, and he lifts his hand to the low roof to steady himself. His other hand flies to my shoulder and grips tight.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” I whisper, giving him a hard pump.
His cock, long and thick, twitches in my hand.
“I’ve wanted a jock on his knees in front of me since I was a teenager.”
“No pressure,” I say and finally, finally, we both get our wish as I run my tongue over his slit and then down his shaft.
His musky scent makes my dick ache, and if anyone had asked me what I missed most about sex, I wouldn’t have said giving head. Receiving, maybe, but not giving. This, right here, looking up at Lennon’s blissed-out face while I take him into my mouth, with his glasses slowly sliding down his thin nose … I’d gladly stay in this position forever, if my back wasn’t protesting and my knees weren’t killing me.
Blowjob in a treehouse? Not a smart idea.
“God, that’s so good.” Lennon’s voice is gruff, something I’ve never heard from him before, and the aches in my back disappear. All the pain goes to my groin, my cock leaking from excitement. Or neglect. I’m not sure yet.
Lennon’s hard length slides in and out of my mouth with ease, and I wish we didn’t have clothes in the
way. I want to take him all the way to the back of my throat, breathe him in, play with his balls, but through the tiny hole in his boxer briefs, I only have access to his cock. Granted, it’s an amazing cock, but I want more.
Later, a voice says.
I pull off to catch my breath and lick my way down the underside, pressing my tongue against a pulsing vein. More delicious precum pools at the tip, and I can’t take it anymore. As I take him in my mouth again, my fingers go to my jeans and hastily unfasten them, taking my own cock out.
One hand strokes myself while the other goes to the base of Lennon’s dick. I suck harder, and he begins panting.
“I’m … I’m gonna …”
I don’t move away, and as the first spurts of his release hit my tongue, I work my cock faster. He continues to fill me, saliva and cum dribbling out the side of my mouth.
I keep going until Lennon comes down from his high, his dick softening in my mouth as I lap at his cum. His grip on my shoulder loosens, and when he takes a step back, I whine. I want more. I want—
Lennon sinks to the floor, and his hand lands on top of mine, stilling it on my cock. “Let me.”
He takes his glasses off and puts them in his shirt pocket. I watch as if he’s moving in slow motion. He’s not moving fast enough.
I breathe hard, and a begging quality I didn’t know I had enters my voice when I say, “I’m so close. I need … I need …”
We have to shuffle on our knees in the small space so Lennon’s able to lean down and take my cock in his mouth, but when he does, and I finally have those lips wrapped around me, I can’t help moaning so loud everyone on the property could hear me.
He pulls off my cock with a wet pop. “I thought we came in here so no one could hear us.”
“Oh my God, I don’t care right now. Just put me out of my misery.”
“This is torture, is it?” His pink tongue darts out and lightly runs up my shaft from base to tip.
“Fuck you. I didn’t tease you.”
Lennon smirks. “You’re right. How mean of me. Maybe you should show me how you like it by fucking my mouth.”
My head falls backward. “How are you real?” It’s like Lennon looked into my brain and saw my deepest fantasies and then went Okay, let’s do that.
With my eyes closed, I feel the heat of his wet mouth moving over me again. I glance down at him, and he nods encouragement.
My first thrusts are small and shallow, testing it out. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to call me a pussy with just their eyes, but Lennon pulls it off flawlessly.
If that’s how he wants to play it …
I grip the back of his head and my hips thrust harder this time, and Lennon hums around my dick. At first, I think it’s in pain, but then we make eye contact again, and his eyes are hooded and filled with lust.
Without a doubt, I’m not going to last long. I was already dancing on the edge before he had his mouth on me.
The small space makes it hard to go all out, but with my hand fisted in his hair, and me kneeling, it doesn’t take a whole lot of movement to go to the back of his throat.
It’s hot and tight, and his cheeks hollow as he sucks me down.
If I hadn’t been so on edge from blowing him already, I’d be embarrassed by how fast I come. As the first spurts hit, Lennon hums a satisfied sound around my cock.
“Fuck,” I pant over and over again.
I haven’t come so hard in my damn life. My body feels like jelly, my legs going numb beneath me.
Lennon pulls off and leans back on his heels, breathing heavy and staring at me with orgasm goggles. I’m sure it matches my gaze.
“We should probably, uh …” I glance down at his cock, still hanging out the fly of his pants.
He laughs and adjusts himself. “Yeah. Probably.”
Lennon lands on his ass beside me, and I roll off my knees and stretch my legs out, but in the small space, they’re still bent and at an awkward angle.
We breathe heavy as we fix our clothing, and as we relax against the wall of the treehouse, I reach into my pocket and pull out a joint.
“Smoke?”
“Is that …” He looks closer.
“Good ol’ Mary Jane? Yup.”
Lennon smiles. “Should you be smoking that?”
“Not on the NHL’s banned list, and besides, season’s over. You gonna report on it if I do?”
He grabs the joint out of my hand. “I can’t believe you asked me that, asshole.” He holds his hand out for a lighter.
“You said yourself if you found me with drugs—”
“I meant like performance-enhancing shit. Cheating.” He stares down at the joint. “Okay, so how do I do this?”
“You’ve never smoked pot before?”
“Why’s that so hard to believe?”
“It’s a rite of passage. Here …” I take it back off him and light up, taking a deep breath in as I do. “Mmm,” I say as I exhale. “Orgasms and getting high. It’s better than birthday cake.”
Lennon chuckles. “Share.”
“I dunno. I don’t wanna corrupt you.”
“You dragged me into your childhood treehouse to blow you. I think the corruption has already begun.”
I screw up my face. “Totally sounds perverted when you say it that way.”
“I’m okay with perverted.” He takes a drag from the joint and coughs.
“Oh. Yeah. Guess I should’ve warned you about that. Max said it was strong.”
“I’m cool,” he says, his voice croaky. “But, uh, Max gave you this? Why?” He holds it out to me.
I put the joint to my lips and take another deep breath. “Because Ash is a dick.” I laugh on the exhale. I don’t know why that’s funny.
“Are you upset he’s getting married?”
My brow furrows. “How’d you know?”
“Your mom. I think your whole family knows already.”
“Fuuuuck.” I throw my head back on the side of the treehouse and bang it repeatedly. The whole structure shakes, so I force myself to stop even though I don’t want to. “I don’t know why I’m upset about it,” I admit.
“You two had a life together. It makes sense. And it’s soon, right? Like, to be that serious with another guy already.”
“That’s what I said.” I sigh. “Max hates the new guy. He’s pissed because we’ve both moved on so fast, and it seems like a waste or whatever. Evidently, I think it was that he was more invested in me and Ash getting married than either of us were.”
And that’s the funny thing about it all. I don’t like that Ash is getting married, but it’s not because I wish he was marrying me. In fact, when I think about standing at an altar and promising forever, I thank God I dodged that bullet. I guess that says a lot about Ash’s and my relationship.
“Is Max still gonna be an ass about it?” Lennon asks.
“Nah. He actually apologized.” I hold up the joint. “His peace offering. Said he wants me to be happy, but it’s hard for him. He’s gonna try though. And he won’t be a dick to you anymore.”
“Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“It’s a shitty thing, what Ash and I did to him. We put him right in the middle. He’s my brother, but he’s Ash’s business partner. Doesn’t give him a right to be an asshole to you, and he knows that.”
Lennon reaches for the joint but hesitates for a moment before taking a hit. When he blows it back out, he turns to me and takes a deep breath as if gathering the courage to say whatever he’s thinking. “I think Ash would take you back if you came out.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask cautiously. I’ve thought about that very thing a lot this past year, but I always come back to the same conclusion. We made the right decision to split.
“I overheard him talking to Vic. He said he was kind of hoping finding out he’s engaged would make you pick up the phone. I’m guessing he meant to call Damon.”
Lennon refuses to look at me, and
maybe I should be offended he’d think I’d jump at the chance, especially after just blowing him, but in his defense, I haven’t really told him much about Ash’s and my relationship.
I take another hit. “Here’s the thing about Ash and me. Growing up, I idolized all my brothers and followed them all around like a puppy. But when Ash moved in next door, everything became about him. I’d only follow him, and because he and Max were the same age and in the same class at school, it meant I followed both of them.”
Lennon smiles. “That’s kind of cute. I can imagine little Ollie following after his first crush.”
“Cute’s one word for it. Max liked to call it annoying and pathetic, but sure, let’s go with cute. Anyway … so …” I try to think of a way to explain it, but it’s a weird power dynamic I don’t quite understand myself. “Have you ever met anyone famous?”
“Hello, random subject change. How strong is this shit?” He reaches for the joint again.
“I have a point. I swear.”
“I’ve met a few athletes I idolized growing up, if that’s what you mean,” he says on an exhale, his voice all husky and sexy again.
I almost lose my train of thought but shake it free. “Yeah. So, you have expectations of them, right? And then when you meet them and realize they’re just human, it’s a bit of a letdown? Well, I never expected Ash to look at me in that way. When he came out, I was fourteen, which made me look up to him even more, even though I wasn’t one hundred percent sure why, because I hadn’t worked it out for myself yet. But when we started dating, I kinda did everything his way because whenever he’d dismiss one of my ideas for dinner or make me watch shitty films, I’d swallow my irritation down and remind myself I’m with Ash. The Ash. Ash wants me.”
“He was controlling?”
I shake my head. “No. Nothing like that. I did it to make him happy.” I shift, trying to get more comfortable—in the tiny treehouse or with this conversation, I’m not entirely sure. “You know how relationships are about compromising and communication and—”
“I know shit all about relationships. You forget my longest ones haven’t even lasted an entire season before.”
