by Rachel Reid
Scott was silent a moment, and Kip cursed himself for being presumptuous.
“Yeah. Bring one. Absolutely.” Scott hung up.
Kip blew out a breath and smiled stupidly at the ceiling. Then he got to work figuring out the fastest route to Scott’s.
Chapter Seven
Scott couldn’t sit still while he waited for Kip.
All morning he had been worried that Kip wasn’t going to contact him, either because he didn’t want to, or because he had lost the number. It had been ridiculous; Kip had seemed very interested in seeing Scott again, and he also seemed smart enough to enter a number into his phone.
Kip was smart. Smart and gorgeous. And a really good kisser.
Scott paced around the apartment, occasionally doing something unnecessary like rearranging the throw pillows on the sofa or straightening a perfectly straight picture on the wall. He stood at his windows and watched the boats in the East River, and the cars going over the bridges at either end of his panoramic view.
He brushed his teeth (again) and checked his hair.
Scott considered his outfit. He was keeping it casual, obviously—he was relaxing at home, after all. But he was wearing his best jeans, and a pale blue T-shirt that he was pretty sure made his eyes look nice. Unfortunately, he also had a pretty big bruise on his right arm, just above his elbow, a fucking two-handed slash from a Buffalo defenseman’s stick.
You look fine. Everything is fine.
He went down to the lobby to meet Kip. He timed it well because Kip arrived less than five minutes after.
“Hey,” Kip said, shaking off the cold. His cheeks were pink. He was adorable.
“Hey.” Scott grinned at him stupidly. He was rewarded with a smile that showed Kip’s dimples.
They went to the elevator and made small talk on the ride up. It was tense in a good way. The promise of what was to come crackled between them.
They stepped into Scott’s apartment and Scott took Kip’s coat. Kip removed his shoes, dropped his backpack, and wandered into the living room. Scott followed him, admiring the way his long-sleeved T-shirt and dark jeans showcased his long, wiry limbs.
“Another win last night,” Kip said. “Congrats.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
Scott couldn’t stand it anymore. He reached for Kip, who came to him immediately. Scott kissed him and an instant calm settled throughout his body. He had needed this so badly. He had been thinking of almost nothing but Kip’s mouth for over two days. It was a miracle that he had played as well as he had in the two games since his and Kip’s night together.
“I missed you,” Scott said. It slipped out, but he didn’t regret it. Especially not when he saw the way Kip smiled.
“Yeah?”
“Mm...hard guy to forget.” He placed his hands on Kip’s hips, and gripped his pelvic bone. He stepped even closer so Kip could feel how much he’d missed him.
“Jesus,” Kip breathed.
They kissed and grabbed at each other frantically, until Kip went backward over the arm of the couch, and Scott landed on top of him.
“Sorry,” Scott said, laughing. “Are you all right?”
“Completely.”
Kip gripped Scott’s erection through his jeans, and Scott groaned and pressed against his hand.
“Here,” Kip said, “let’s... You sit, and just let me...”
He wriggled out from under Scott, who sat on the couch and watched him slide to the floor between his knees. Kip leaned up and kissed him as he opened Scott’s jeans. They kept kissing as Kip pulled Scott’s dick out and stroked it with loose, lazy fingers.
Fuck, it felt so good. Just to be with someone like this. To be touched. To be worked up and to be given release. He needed more of this in his life.
Kip spotted the bruise on Scott’s arm and brushed his fingers over it. “That must have hurt.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I’ll make it better.” Kip laid soft, open-mouthed kisses over the purple skin. It was cheesy and dumb and Scott loved it.
Kip continued to apply his “remedy” as his fingers played with the hem of Scott’s T-shirt. Scott wanted the shirt off.
“I think I have a few more bruises,” he rumbled. “If you feel like exploring.”
“Hmm... I’d better have a look.”
God, Kip’s voice was so fucking sexy when he was turned on, all cracked and breathy. His arousal seemed to unearth his Brooklyn accent, and for some reason Scott found that absurdly hot.
“Can’t see any bruises here,” Kip teased, kissing his way down to Scott’s stomach. “But just to be safe...”
“There might b-be—” Scott sucked in a breath. “Might be some lower-body injuries.”
Kip laughed against his skin, which made Scott laugh. He licked over Scott’s abs, pressing his hands up the insides of Scott’s thighs and gently brushing the backs of his fingers over Scott’s balls. Scott shuddered.
“Fuck.”
“Been thinking about this,” Kip murmured, his mouth hovering over Scott’s cock. “Didn’t get a chance to last time.”
“Please,” was all Scott could say.
Kip ran his tongue over the head, and pressed against the sensitive skin just under. Scott gripped the sofa to keep himself from accidentally shoving Kip’s head down. He ached with the need for release.
But Kip sucked him slowly, relaxed, like they had all the time in the world. Which, Scott supposed, they did. He watched Kip as much as he could, at times losing focus when he did something that made Scott’s eyes roll back.
He was so beautiful. Kip. Scott decided to tell him so.
“You’re gorgeous.” Scott gazed down at him with what must have been a look of pure adoration. “And you’re so fucking good at that. Jesus Christ.”
Kip grinned around him and redoubled his efforts. He took Scott in almost completely, wrapping his hand around the base and stroking Scott’s balls with his fingertips.
Scott was on fire. He felt like he might die. He couldn’t think anymore, and could only speak in obscenities.
“Oh fuck. Oh god. I hope you want to fuck me later. God, I’ve been thinking about that. It was so good the other night... Never had it that good before... So many things I wanna do with you...”
Kip moaned around his cock, and pressed a hand to his own erection through his jeans.
“I’m gonna take care of that,” Scott promised. “Soon as you’re done, I’m gonna take your cock however you wanna give it to me—Oh—fuck... Okay... I’m going to...”
That was all the warning he could give Kip. His orgasm hit him so hard and so fast, he thrust up a bit and rode the waves of pleasure that rocked through his body as he emptied himself into Kip’s perfect mouth.
When it was over, Kip pulled off and rested his head on Scott’s thigh.
“Holy fuck,” Scott said. “Come here.”
Kip went to him and kissed him, and Scott wrapped his arms around him as Kip straddled his lap.
“What do you want?” Scott panted.
“Doesn’t matter. Not gonna take long either way.”
Scott opened Kip’s jeans and took his cock out. At a loss for anything better, Scott spit in his own hand and wrapped it around Kip, mixing it with the precome that was already leaking from the tip.
Kip swore and thrust into Scott’s grip. Scott looked down between them, watching his hand move over Kip’s swollen, gorgeous cock.
“I want to see you come. I want you to come all over me. Later maybe you could show me how you like it, I could watch you stroke yourself. Fuck, I’d really like that...”
Kip made a sudden sharp cry and gave him exactly what he wanted, coming in long streaks against Scott’s abs and chest and down Scott’s hand.
When Kip opened his eyes, they were hooded, sex-drunk,
and his cheeks were flushed. He was the sexiest thing Scott had ever seen.
“Jesus, no wonder you’re the team captain,” Kip drawled. “You’re a great motivator.”
Scott laughed and kissed him. “We should get cleaned up.”
“Mm.” Kip said, falling back onto the couch.
Scott stood and went to get a wet cloth. The edge had been taken off, but it had only ignited his need for more.
He returned to the living room to find Kip still sprawled on his back, jeans open, cock wet and softening against his thigh. He had an arm thrown over his eyes.
More. A lot more.
* * *
Kip flopped onto his back beside Scott, spent and sweaty and happy. They were stretched somewhat diagonally across Scott’s giant bed after their second round. It wasn’t even dark out yet.
Scott rolled his head in Kip’s direction. “You hungry? I’m starving.”
Kip laughed. “Yeah. Definitely. But I could use a shower first.”
Scott was on his feet in one quick and very athletic move. He held out a hand for Kip, which Kip took, grinning. Scott kissed him after he hauled him to his feet and led him into the spectacular bathroom.
The en suite bathroom was larger than Kip’s bedroom. It was larger than his parents’ bedroom. It had a giant soaker tub in the middle of the room, and behind that, a stone tile wall that hid a corridor-style shower with open ends. The center of the ceiling of the corridor was a giant, rectangular rain shower with pot lights at either end. The walls were all quiet, gray stone tile. It was sexy as all hell.
Scott turned on the shower with some fancy knobs, and water rained down from the ceiling. He stood under it and pulled Kip against him.
Kip loved the shower almost as much as he loved making out with Scott Hunter in it. The water traced Scott’s muscles as it flowed down his ridiculous torso. Kip bent to catch one rivulet in his mouth, as it was about to drip from the crease of Scott’s thigh, then followed the reverse of its path with his tongue.
“Kip. God.” Scott shuddered above him as Kip licked the grooves of his abs. Scott hauled him up and pushed him back against the wall, kissing him wildly.
It was incredible: They’d been doing nothing but getting each other off all afternoon, but they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
They did manage to clean themselves eventually, using Scott’s excellent-smelling (and no doubt expensive) soap and shampoo. By the time they left the shower, the bathroom was thick with steam and Kip was starving.
He threw his jeans and T-shirt back on. Scott, to Kip’s delight, wore only a towel around his waist as he ordered food on his phone. It didn’t surprise Kip that Scott was very comfortable with his body; he had spent a lot of his life wearing nothing, or next to nothing, in locker rooms full of people.
“There’s a place nearby that makes amazing ravioli,” Scott said. “Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
Scott did eventually put some clothes on, and joined Kip on the couch to wait for the food.
“Hey,” Kip said, “are you going to that fancy Equinox Gala?”
Scott looked at him curiously. “Yes, I confirmed I would be there. Why?”
“Oh, just... I’m going too.”
“Working?”
“No! No, I... My friend invited me.”
“Oh!” Scott said. Then, “Oh god, I’m sorry, Kip. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“Nah, it’s okay. I mean, obviously it’s weird for someone like me to be attending a gala like that. As a guest, I mean. But Elena—my friend, Elena—she works for Equinox and she wants me to be her date.”
“Is she the one you brought to the game?”
“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Really amazing person.”
Scott nodded.
An awkward silence fell. Kip couldn’t be sure what Scott was thinking about, but he was sure wishing he could be going as Scott’s date. He imagined dancing with him in that fancy ballroom, both dressed to the nines, cameras flashing...
The dream faded.
“Anyway,” Kip said, “I’ll be there.”
Scott was frowning and looking away. Kip waited for him to say the words Kip had known were coming, but dreaded hearing. This has been fun, but I don’t want you getting any ideas...
Instead, Scott stood and asked, “Would you like something to drink? A beer or something?”
“Sure,” Kip said, surprised but trying to act cool. “Yeah, a beer would be great. Anything.”
Scott nodded and went to the kitchen.
A weird tension had filled the room. Kip didn’t like it. What had he been thinking, bringing up an event they would both be attending in three weeks? It had been stupid. He shouldn’t have assumed...
Scott returned and handed Kip a cold bottle of beer. “You want a glass, or...”
“Nah, bottle’s fine.” Kip forced a smile. He watched Scott fiddle a bit with his own bottle, his face twisting.
“I’m, uh, I’m looking forward to seeing you all dressed up at that gala.” Scott gave Kip an adorably nervous smile.
Kip grinned back at him, relieved. “Yeah? I clean up real nice.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Scott said, sinking to one knee on the couch and leaning forward to kiss him. Kip sighed and kissed back. He wanted Scott to cover him. He wanted to feel the weight of him everywhere.
He leaned back until he was lying down, then gazed up at Scott expectantly.
“Come here,” he said.
Scott took Kip’s beer out of his hand and placed it on the glass coffee table next to his own. He lowered himself carefully—too carefully—to cover him with his giant body.
“I’m heavy.” Scott said it as if it would deter Kip from wanting to be absolutely smothered by him.
“I won’t break.” Kip wrapped an arm around his back to haul him closer.
When Scott settled his weight on him, Kip let out a whimper that would have been embarrassing, but he was too happy to care. Scott nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck, and Kip’s cock stiffened for the fourth goddamn time this afternoon. He moved his hips to press it against Scott’s thigh.
“God, Kip,” Scott moaned against his throat.
Then his phone buzzed.
“Food’s here,” Scott said with an apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”
He headed down to the lobby, and Kip was left reeling on the couch.
Kip had thought he had this thing figured out: Scott needed someone to have sex with who wouldn’t go to the press, or post online about it. He, for whatever reason, seemed to feel he could trust Kip with his secret. They would secretly hook up a few times, and then Scott would get back to being a giant superstar and Kip would go back to his sad joke of a life. Simple.
But, goddamn, it was not going to be easy to walk away from this when the time inevitably came.
They ate their ravioli on the couch, and Scott turned on the television to catch a bit of the Pittsburgh vs. Boston game. It was interesting, watching hockey with Scott Hunter. Sometimes he would hunch forward, focused and chewing thoughtfully. Like he was working something out in his head. Kip wondered what he was seeing on the screen. What details he was noticing that almost no one else on earth would see.
“You’re playing in Boston this week, right?” Kip asked.
“Yeah. Thursday,” Scott said, his eyes still on the television. “We play in Philly on Tuesday.”
“And back here for Saturday?”
“Yeah. Montreal plays here on Saturday.”
“I’m, um, I’m not working on Saturday.”
There was a pause, and then Scott seemed to register what Kip had said. He turned his attention away from the television.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I’m working Tuesday to Friday this week.”
&n
bsp; “Okay.” His brow furrowed.
“I mean... I could maybe see if Maria wants to—”
“No! No, don’t. It’s silly, right?”
Kip shrugged. “If it’s important to you, I could switch shifts.”
Scott shook his head. “No, it’s...” He put his takeout container down on the coffee table, switched off the hockey game, and turned to face Kip. “We should probably talk.”
Kip’s heart sank. He braced himself for the words he had been unhappily anticipating since they’d first hooked up.
“I’m, um...” Scott started, uncharacteristically fumbling for words. “You know I’m...”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“I’m closeted,” Scott continued. “I guess. I mean, that’s accurate. I need to hide that part of me. If it got out that I...”
“Right,” Kip said, his eyes focused on the floor so Scott wouldn’t see how dejected he felt.
“I’ve never...dated anyone.”
Kip turned his eyes up, stunned.
“I’ve hooked up with men. Not here. I’ve never hooked up with anyone in New York. I’ve never brought anyone to my home before.”
Kip’s stomach flipped. “You haven’t?”
Scott looked at him seriously. “No.”
“Oh.”
“Like I said, I’ve never dated anyone,” Scott said. “I’ve never... I thought I didn’t need to. That I could maybe live without that.”
Kip heard the past tense in what Scott was saying. “And now?”
Scott exhaled. “I don’t know. I feel like...maybe I hadn’t met the right person yet, you know?”
Holy shit.
“I’m just saying,” Scott said, “I don’t think it’s the smoothies.”
Kip didn’t say anything. He wanted to hear what Scott was going to say next.
“I want to. Date you. I know we barely know each other, but...”
Emotion bubbled inside him, pushing a lump into his throat. “Me too,” he choked out.
Scott smiled at him, a little sadly.
“I mean, obviously, yes. I’m in,” Kip said.
“I want to,” Scott clarified, “but I don’t know how we can.”
