by Eden Finley
I laugh. “Sure. You’re so drunk you’re probably not gonna be able to get it up anyway.”
Talon pulls me against him, trying to push his half-hard cock into me. “Not able to get it up, huh?”
“Halfway doesn’t count.”
Talon grumbles as he makes his way to the bed and falls on his back. He covers his eyes with his arm, while his legs still hang off the end of the bed. “I ruined it.”
I frown. “Ruined what?”
“Tonight.” Talon reaches for me, and I step between his legs. He tries to get up but fails. “Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about having you all to myself? In the same room? Then I had to go and get wasted off my face.”
“You just won the Super Bowl.”
“We won the Super Bowl.”
“Uh-huh.” I still don’t see it that way, but I’m not gonna argue that with drunk Talon. “I mean you’re allowed to celebrate.” Even if my balls are blue and I’ve waited months—no, years—for this to happen. “Come on. Shuffle up the bed and get under the covers.”
He wriggles his way up so his head hits the pillow. “Fine. But once I’m recovered, your ass is mine. Or mine is yours. I dunno. We haven’t worked that out yet, have we?”
We haven’t worked out much of anything, but now’s not the time for that discussion. Or any discussion, really.
“Maybe we could leave both our asses out of it to begin with. Start slow.”
“Oh my God, it feels like we’ve been moving slower than a fucking tortoise. I’ve wanted this for six months, ever since training camp.”
“Me too. So one more night won’t kill us. And then we can talk about it when we’re both sober.”
“Drunk talking about it seems funner.”
“I bet it does.” I strip down and join him in bed, but he’s still on top of the comforter, and now I’m under the sheets. “You gonna join me under here, or you gonna sleep on top all night?”
Talon tries to roll over and undress without getting up but somehow gets stuck. On what, I’m not sure. “So. Much. Effort.” Finally, he gives up and climbs out of bed. He strips out of the rest of his clothes just like I did, only he doesn’t stop at his boxer briefs. They go too, and then he lifts the sheets and half-falls back into bed.
Now, he’s cuddled up next to me, and all I can think about are the times I imagined this happening—him pressed against me with nothing between us.
I take a deep breath, because I need it to steady my racing heart.
He inches closer and does that thing girls do where they nudge your shoulder like a cat to get you to open your arms for them.
I lift my arm and wrap it around Talon’s muscular body as he snuggles into my chest. “Comfortable?” I ask.
“Actually? This kinda feels weird.”
I laugh.
“How do girls sleep like this?” Talon moves his head around, trying to get settled in the nook of my shoulder, which makes me laugh even more.
“Hate to say it, but there are plenty of guys who like it too.”
Talon stiffens but covers it up by shifting as if he’s still uncomfortable. “Do you like it?”
“Wouldn’t know. The guys I’ve been with haven’t exactly seen me as the little spoon.”
“That’s because you’re a giant. Let’s switch.”
Before I can make a That sounds promising joke, we change positions so Talon’s on his back, and I’m curled into his side.
Talon’s strong arms around me feel better than I expected, and I don’t know why I’ve never been the one to be cuddled before. My guess is my large frame probably looks weird and doesn’t fit gender norms. Hey, sometimes big guys need hugs too.
I want to sink into Talon’s warmth and burrow under it.
“Can I ask you something?” Talon’s small voice doesn’t fill me with confidence that I’m going to like his question.
“Okay.”
“How many guys was it? In college.”
My mouth dries. “Why do you want to know?”
“I understand why you never said anything back then, but I kinda hate that we never got the chance to figure this out together. I’m alone in this, and you’re treating me with kid gloves.”
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol talking or if it’s lowered Talon’s inhibitions and filter.
Oh, who am I kidding, Talon has no filter.
“I don’t want to fuck this up,” I whisper. My head stays on Talon’s chest, because I refuse to lift it and look at him.
“So tell me. About the guys.”
I sigh. “There’s not much to tell.” I don’t want to tell him that the first time I’d been with another guy, it had been because I hung outside the LGBTQ student support center until I found a forward femme guy to take home. I knew he’d be discreet, because one of the first things out of his mouth was “I can be discreet.” I think he knew what I was waiting for. Hell, I dunno, maybe a lot of bi-curious guys did the same thing and he was used to it. Or maybe I was just obvious.
“Did you … you know …”
I snort. “No, I don’t know. Did I what? Have a relationship with any of them? No. Hook up with them more than once? Only one guy. I don’t know what you’re asking, Talon.”
“Did you have sex with any of them?”
“Define sex.”
“You’re impossible.”
I know what Talon’s asking—society’s definition of sex which includes penetration—but I don’t want to get into it. I don’t see the point of him knowing. But this is Talon, and I never seem to be able to deny him anything. “I’ve never bottomed, but I’ve topped before.”
“Does that mean you’re a top?” Talon’s voice is getting sleepy now, so I continue to humor him.
“No, it means I didn’t trust any of those guys or have the guts to ask for what I wanted. I’d let you top me. Every time I was with another guy, I thought of you.”
“Mmm, I thought of you too.”
“When you were with guys?” I quip.
“Funny. But no. When I was with girls, I always thought of how much fun it’d be if you were there with us.”
“You never had another guy in your bed?” I’m not sure if I want to know the answer.
“Like you, I didn’t trust anyone enough. One girlfriend—the one my family refers to as The Model—”
“Moxie Burgen?”
“Ah. Saw that in the news then, huh?”
It’s one of the only few times I’ve heard bashfulness come out of Talon’s mouth.
“You were being pegged as the next Tom and Giselle. Automatically hated her.”
Talon chuckles.
“So, what’s her deal? Your family not like her?”
“What do you think? They teased me mercilessly about her because of the Tom and Giselle power couple thing.”
I’m doing a sucky job of hiding my jealousy, but just in case Talon hasn’t caught on yet, I keep going. “What kind of name is Moxie, anyway?”
“A fake one. Her real name … are you ready for it? Plain ol’ Melanie.”
I mock gasp. “Scandalous.”
“But yeah, I brought up the subject of threesomes with her once. She thought I was asking for a three-way with another girl. When I said it could be another guy if she wanted, she became confused.”
I have to try really hard to keep from laughing. “What, she wasn’t smart enough to know what goes where?”
“Not at all. She’s actually insanely smart. Very business oriented, almost to the point of boring. She was confused as to why I’d want to jeopardize our careers like that.”
“Huh.” Score one for the supermodel. “Can’t say she didn’t have a point.”
“I know, I know. Heard it all before. We didn’t last long after that. And she’s the only person I was close enough with to ask, but come to think of it, I don’t even think I liked being with her. Nothing against her—she’s a great girl. Just … not my type, I guess. I was with her because it was the thing to
do. Star quarterback with the Victoria’s Secret model.”
“It’s a hard life,” I say dryly.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I say solemnly. “A lot of people do something because they think it’s the norm. It’s staying true to yourself when you don’t meet social expectations that’s hard.”
“That’s deep,” Talon says sleepily.
“That’s what he said.”
Talon laughs, but there’s no energy behind it.
“Go to sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.” I can’t help smiling in the dark as I drift off.
Chapter Seventeen
TALON
I can do this. It’s just sucking a dick. I’ve received countless blowjobs before, and no one ever choked to death, so it can’t be that hard.
Hmm, maybe I should start small. Like a handjob.
Maybe you should wake him up first before you do anything.
Oh, right. That too.
It’s been months of thinking about this, of wishing our FaceTime calls were in person, but now it’s here, I’m more nervous than the first time we ever took a girl up to my room.
Even though that was probably the most awkward sexual encounter I’d ever had with Miller, it was the start of something indescribable—a feeling I’ve been chasing and haven’t found since graduating USC.
We were both fumbly that first night, not really knowing what to do. It started as a taunt. Seems to be a theme with Miller and me.
Miller rolls onto his back, and the sheet slips down the body I’ve always admired from a professional perspective, but—wait … do truly straight guys stare at other guys and appreciate them? I always thought so, but now, I’m not sure.
“If you’re gonna puke, use the bathroom.” Miller’s eyes are still closed, and his voice is strained from sleep.
“Huh?”
One of his eyes cracks open. “I can sense you hovering, and I don’t wanna be covered in vomit.”
“I wasn’t that drunk.”
“Dude, you called Jackson your pet unicorn.”
I laugh. “He is my unicorn. Without him, we so would’ve lost the game last night.”
“You threw imaginary glitter at him and yelled ‘Be majestic, bitch!’” Miller stretches, his long arms reaching above his head and making every muscle in his torso contract.
I run my hand over his chest, my fingers tracing every hard line. “I don’t remember that. But I do remember a certain promise you made to me last night.”
Miller’s dark eyes fill with heat. “Yeah?”
I take a deep breath as I move on top of him. “I’m one hundred percent sober right now.”
Miller lifts his hips and grinds his body against mine. “Uh-huh …”
“And I want to taste you,” I whisper.
Miller locks eyes with me and nods. Leaning in, he lifts his head until our lips are almost touching. “Explore me. Use me. Take whatever you want from me.”
For so long I’ve been thinking about his mouth. His lips. Ever since kissing him in that hospital room, I haven’t thought of much else other than getting to the Super Bowl, but even then, my motivations revolved around Miller. The sooner we won, the sooner I could present Miller with his first championship title.
Our mouths come together, and it’s everything I remember and more. His tongue is lazy at first, teasing me, testing my limits, but it all changes when I take control and dominate the kiss.
I wonder if this is what it’s going to be like with Miller. At least in the beginning. He gives the minimum so I have to work for it. Funny thing is, if a woman were to play those kinds of games with me, I’d get over it superfast. But Miller’s doing it for one reason only, and I know that without him having to say anything.
He’s taking us slow for me. Because, somehow, he always knows what I need.
Right this second, I need to go at my pace and pull back if it’s too much, but it’s easy to get lost in him.
Miller’s hips buck underneath me, his impressive erection digging into me. His hand weaves into my short hair and grips tight.
It’s as if I can feel him channeling all his control into that hand, trying desperately to let me take the lead even though he’s dying to do it. I can’t wait until we’re in a place for me to let him take over, but we both know we’re not ready for that.
This time is for me to get used to his hard edges and larger body, explore the new sensations, and find out what Miller likes.
I already have a fair idea from what I’ve observed over the years, so I go for the easy targets first. Like his nipples.
Sliding my way down his body, I capture one with my teeth, biting down a little harder than I normally would with anyone else.
Miller lets out an encouraging moan, so I pinch the other one while I suck and lick the bite pain away.
It’s like I’m a kid in a candy store, and I don’t know where to sample next. So many things I’d like to do to Miller but probably won’t. Not this time around, anyway.
Unable to stay there and take my time, I shuffle down farther, my mouth moving to his stomach. The muscles contract under my tongue, and his cock twitches against my chest.
The wet patch on his underwear somehow turns me on even more. Probably because it lets me know how much he’s enjoying what I’m doing to him. My own cock is in a similar state. Harder than I’ve ever been before and achingly desperate to be touched.
My mouth pauses a little too long at the waistband of Miller’s boxer briefs.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.” Miller’s hips betray his words as they thrust upward in a silent plea to get my head closer to his dick. I know that’s what he’s doing because I’ve perfected that move myself over the years.
So this is what it’s like to be on the other side of a needy cock. I would mentally apologize to every woman I’ve ever done it to if it weren’t so fucking sexy.
“I’m ready,” I murmur against his stomach. “But I need you to help me.” I glance up at him only to find his eyes already locked on mine. “Show me what to do.”
“Losing my underwear would be a good start.”
I can’t help smiling as I rise, resting on my knees. My fingers hook into the sides, but I hesitate again.
“Dunno why you’re pausing. You’ve seen my dick a million times.”
“Shit, you’re right. I’m just …”
“Nervous? You have nothing to be nervous about. Trust me, I’ll like anything you do to me.”
“Anything?”
Miller sighs. “God, I just set you a challenge, didn’t I?” He knows how I love a good dare.
“Tell me if you don’t like something I’m doing, because now I wanna try everything.”
Miller lifts his hips as I pull his underwear off and throw them somewhere behind me. His cock, long, veiny, and thick, bobs against his stomach.
We both groan as my hand wraps around his hard length. I test out a few strokes, getting used to the difference in his thickness compared to mine.
Miller lets out a shuddery breath. “Grip a bit tighter.”
I do as he says.
“So good.”
I appreciate the encouragement, which gives me the courage to lean in and take the tip into my mouth.
A salty taste fills my mouth, and while it’s not exactly pleasant, it doesn’t make me gag. Like, no one’s gonna bottle and sell a drink that tastes like cock, but as I glance up at Miller and see his hooded eyes, his tight jaw, and the obvious restraint he’s forcing himself to hold onto, I understand how people could love the heady flavor. Because it’s the taste of pure lust, and I want more of it.
I close my lips over his cock and work my way down until my mouth is filled.
Shit, Miller’s huge.
My fingers wrap around his base as I move my mouth up and down.
Miller’s breathing comes in short gasps, and I want to drive him to the point where he can’t catch a breath. I want to make
him come unglued, go crazy, and let out the primal roar I know he holds in.
There’ve only been a few times I’ve heard it—not everyone can make him go off like that—but I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I pull off him and lick my way down his length, while I move my hand to the head of his cock and keep stroking him.
My tongue runs down the underside, and even though my ass clenches at the size of this thing, I’m curious about what it would feel like inside me.
Apart from our FaceTime sessions when I’ve used my fingers to explore, I haven’t been game enough for any other ass stuff. I want Miller to be a part of that. I want him to be the one I share my firsts with.
I take one of his balls into my mouth and don’t let my gaze leave his face as his eyes fill with lust.
“Faster.” He reaches for my hand on his cock and jacks himself with my hand.
My own dick aches, and as I flatten onto my stomach, the small amount of friction between me and the sheets is enough for me to almost lose my head … and my load.
When Miller’s satisfied with how fast my hand is pumping, he removes his hand from mine and fists it in my hair, pulling on it tightly but not enough to cause pain.
“God, you look even better doing that than I ever imagined.” He pulls my head back farther until his ball falls from my mouth. “But I want you right here.”
His hand guides my head back to his cock, and a thrill rushes through me at his demanding presence. I was worried I wouldn’t be ready for this, but that didn’t last long. He could tell me to rob a bank right now and I’d do it no questions asked.
This time when my mouth closes over his cock, I add a bit of suction and know I’m doing something right. Miller’s hips lift off the bed, causing me to almost choke on his dick, but I grip his hip and pin him as hard as I can to the mattress.
“Fuck, sorry.”
I want to tell him it’s okay, but I don’t want to pull off him. Instead, I glance up at him through watery eyes. It’s okay, I try to say with my mind.
Miller doesn’t seem to get it, or maybe he’s worried I’m not liking this, because his hesitance is obvious in the way he relaxes under me.
I don’t want that. I want him wound tight and ready to explode. To prove how much I want this, I suck him into my mouth as deep as I can—which admittedly isn’t very far. I’ll have to work on how to deep throat. Who knew it was an actual talent and not something people can automatically do?
