“Fuck. Yes, yes—fuck.” He reached for Misha’s cock between them and stroked it in time with the motion of his hips as he plowed Misha’s ass, stretching him and going deeper.
When he hit the right spot, Misha’s whole body stiffened and vibrated, and then he came between them with a wordless cry. As he pulsed with his release, his ass convulsed around Dev’s cock, and Dev drove into him desperately. He was so close to the edge, and he grunted as he slammed in and out. He knew Misha must be sore, but Misha urged him on, fingers tightening in Dev’s hair.
“Yes. Come for me now. Fill me up,” he commanded.
With a groan, Dev’s orgasm rushed through him from his balls to the tips of his toes, the warmth incredibly intense as he jerked and gave Misha every last spurt. Even though he wore a condom, he imagined they were doing it raw.
As they came back down, Misha pressed soft kisses to Dev’s face. “Spasibo,” he whispered.
Dev closed his eyes and let himself forget about the real world.
Chapter Five
As the elevator doors opened, Dev held his breath. The hallway was empty, and he exhaled and hurried to his room. He was about to say a prayer to God, the universe or any omniscient being that happened to be listening when he heard the other elevator arrive, and Bailey’s distinctive laugh ring out. He sighed. So close.
“Hey, partner!” Bailey called. She wore her running gear, and her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She said goodnight to Shelby, who disappeared into their room. As Bailey got closer, her eyes took on a familiar gleam. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? It’s past ten, so we’re both burning the midnight oil and Louise will kick our butts tomorrow even though our practice time isn’t until later.” She stopped in front of him, and a wicked smile lifted her lips. “But I’ve been doing laps with Shelby, and you? Hmm, let’s see.”
“Bailey, it’s late. We should get to bed.” He tried to duck by her.
She slapped his arm lightly. “Not before you tell me who you fucked!” She held up her hand. “Don’t try to deny it. We both know that I can always tell. I’m glad you took my advice. Now you’ll be relaxed and ready to go as we defy the odds and win gold with the best two performances of our lives. Come on, spill.”
“I…” Looking into her excited, open face, Dev was struck with a wave of affection. He hated lying to her, but the truth about Misha right now would distract her and cause friction between them. His mind scrambled for a sport—any sport. Bobsled. It would do. “It was—”
The stairwell door ten feet away swung open, and Misha appeared. He froze, the proverbial deer in headlights as Dev’s heart thumped so loudly he was certain Bailey would hear.
A furrow appeared between her brows. “Hey, Mikhail. How’s it going?”
Misha didn’t answer, still motionless, his eyes locked on Dev. Dev stared back as he tried desperately to think of something to say while Bailey glanced between them.
Her smile grew uncertain. “What’s up? You guys both look guilty as hell. Did you—” She broke off, shaking her head and holding her hands up. “Wait, wait. What’s happening? You didn’t…” She stared at Dev. “Am I going crazy?”
Wordlessly, Misha closed the distance and held out his hand. Dev’s cell phone. Heart sinking and stomach knotting, Dev took it with a nod and slipped it in his pocket. Misha disappeared into the stairwell. Dev took a deep breath. “Bailey…”
She stared, mouth agape. It was possibly the first time he’d ever seen her speechless. A ding echoed in the hall, and a group of athletes poured off the elevator. Bailey snapped her jaw shut, pressing her lips together into a grim line. She stalked to Dev’s room, and he followed.
Inside, Andrew glanced up from where he was flopped on the nearest bed, tapping his phone. “Hey, guys! I was…are you okay?”
Bailey pointed to the door. “Out.”
“Whoa.” Andrew tensed. “What happened?”
Her nostrils flared, and he scrambled to his feet and escaped into the hall, the door shutting behind him with a loud click. Bailey crossed her arms over her chest.
“I must be losing my mind, right? Is it the altitude? Everything’s foggy. Because it seems like you just had sex with Mikhail Reznikov.”
“B, it wasn’t… I mean…” Dev ran a hand through his hair.
“What the actual fuck, Dev? Are you kidding me? I know I told you to get laid, but for the record, I didn’t mean with him! Of all people! I can’t—” She shook her head. “I can’t even process this. How? Why? How?”
“This is such a cliché, but it just happened. In Kyoto, we—”
“In Kyoto?” Her voice rose. “You fucked him in Kyoto? I don’t even… I can’t believe this.” She rubbed her face. “Is this real life? Am I on drugs? Am I hallucinating?”
“I know it’s insane. I know, believe me. After the long program we were in the dressing room and I was so pissed about the scores and I picked a fight with him. One second we were at each other’s throats, and the next…”
She heaved a shuddering breath. “So that’s why you were late for the press conference. Why you were so flustered.”
Dev nodded.
Bailey put her head down and took another breath. Then another. And another. When she looked up, her eyes glistened, and her anger had dissolved. “This has been going on since then, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I wanted to. So badly. I never thought anything else would happen. Not in a million years! I tried to put him out of my head, but when I saw him again it was just… I can’t explain it. We can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s complete lunacy, I know. I wanted to tell you. I swear. Please, Bailey.” He reached for her.
Bailey jerked back, shaking her head again. “No. I don’t. I can’t. I…” She sucked in a breath, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “You’re the person I trust a hundred percent to always be there for me. To always be honest, even if it hurts. I just…I don’t know what to do with this. I can’t talk to you right now. I feel like I don’t even know you. You hate him. He’s a soulless robot.”
“He’s—” Dev bit down the urge to defend Misha. “Not what we thought.”
She sniffed and swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. Well, I’m going to bed, because I can’t deal with this.” She turned.
“Bailey, I know I fucked up. Please forgive me.”
Bailey opened the door as more tears fell. “I will. But not tonight.”
Dev had never hated himself more. All he could do was climb into bed and close his eyes, awash in guilt. Bailey was his best friend, and he’d feel the same way in her shoes.
When Andrew came back, he quietly flicked off the light, and didn’t say a word.
Bailey didn’t seem to be closer to forgiving Dev the next morning. Dev and Andrew, who had been conspicuously cheerful and hadn’t mentioned the night before, found Bailey, Shelby, and a few other teammates at one of the long tables in the dining hall. The last thing Dev wanted was for everyone else to know there was an issue, and Bailey clearly felt the same way. She chatted with the others as if it was any other morning but didn’t look at him once. He couldn’t blame her.
They typically had one blowout fight a year, usually about something meaningless, and usually when they were exhausted and stressed. They never held grudges. But Bailey had never been hurt like this before. They’d made a pact their first year together to always tell the truth, even if it was ugly. Until now, Dev had never kept anything from her.
When Bailey left to go get ready, Andrew leaned in and whispered to Dev.
“Are you guys going to be okay?”
“Of course,” Dev answered automatically. He sighed. “I hope so.”
“I mean, you guys are bros. Whatever you did, it must have been bad.”
But so good. Dev smirked. “You mean you weren’t eavesdropping from the hall last night?”
Andrew sat up straighter. “Dude, no way.” He seemed genuinely offended
.
“Sorry. I admit I might have. You’re a good guy, Andrew. I’m glad you’re my roommate.”
“Hey, put in a good word for me with Bailey, and we’re square.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Dev had to laugh. “I think I’m the last person to be pleading your case right now.”
“Good point. I’ll have to put my seduction plan into motion.”
“Good luck with that, and I don’t need to know the details. Ever.”
Andrew laughed and was then distracted by the arrival of one of his training mates, an ice dancer named Sean who obviously had the metabolism of a teenage boy—which he was, so Dev supposed it was fair—because his plate was heaped with bacon.
Dev pushed his bran cereal around in his bowl. They were two days from the opening ceremony and four days from the short program, and his partner wasn’t talking to him. Yet as upset as he was about the rift with Bailey, Dev couldn’t help but think about Misha. He scanned the dining hall, examining the throng of people and looking for the distinctive red jackets and Misha’s shock of dark hair. Each time he thought he spotted him, his stomach flip-flopped and crushing disappointment followed.
Even if Dev did spot him, it wasn’t like he could just run over and kiss him. Even though that was exactly what he wanted to do. He felt like a junkie jonesing for a fix. He needed more. He remembered Misha’s laugh and the slightly crooked way he smiled and—
“Yo, Dev. Earth to Dev.”
He blinked at Andrew. “Huh?”
“Sean was asking about the arena. You guys are going today, right?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah.” Guilt barreled through him. How could he be sitting there thinking about his rival? This was the biggest competition of his life. Of Bailey’s life. He needed to focus.
Today was their first official practice at the new Arène Olympique. Thanks to Dev and Bailey’s silver and the second team’s eighth-place finish at Worlds last year, the US had qualified three pair teams. They’d be sharing their practice session with the two teams from France, so their sessions would be sure to draw big crowds. Along with the public, there would be media, judges, and officials from the skating federations. All holding up a magnifying glass to the skaters on the ice.
Despite what anyone liked to think, the competition began now, and Dev had to be ready. He left the soggy remnants of his cereal and went to prepare.
Their practice group was scheduled for eleven fifteen a.m., and Bailey and Dev caught the shuttle to the arena with their pair teammates. While there was generally quite a bit of friction between the other two teams, since Bailey and Dev were so far ahead in the rankings, the other teams didn’t really compete against them. It had been a given that, barring disaster, Bailey and Dev would capture their fourth national title in January. The battle for silver and bronze had been fierce, and even now the smiles were strained.
This worked out well for Dev and Bailey as they chatted with the other skaters and not each other, acting as a buffer between their teammates. Dev smiled and nodded but only half listened. Bailey had still barely looked at him, and his stomach churned. He’d need a bottle of antacids before this day was over. Why had he been so stupid? Getting involved with Misha was the worst mistake he’d ever made. He was at the Olympics. His partnership and competition had to be his top priority, no matter what.
Yet he couldn’t get Misha out of his mind. The sex had been unreal, but it really was more than that. He’d never been so infatuated, even as a teenager crushing on his hot-ass history teacher. He was already desperate to see Misha again, to touch him and kiss him and talk with him. He wanted to know about Misha’s childhood. He wanted to know how he started skating. He wanted to know everything.
“Dev, do you have any advice for today?”
Blinking, Dev smiled at little Caroline, a blonde teenager who lived up to her nickname of Sweet, as in the old Neil Diamond song. “Sorry?”
“This is your second Olympics. I’m so nervous I could puke.” She glanced at her partner, Grant. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Dev gave her arm a squeeze. “Just try to ignore all the people in the stands. Think of it as another day at practice. Another run-through. You’re ready. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”
Truthfully, Dev thought Caroline and Grant had been overmarked at Nationals, but the other team favored to medal, North/Rodman, had had a terrible Grand Prix season and made two major mistakes in their long program. Their component scores had been far too low, and the judges sent them the message that they’d disappointed too many times. The federation had the choice to still name North/Rodman to the Olympic team, but everyone knew it wasn’t going to happen, and third-place Caroline and Grant were in.
Grant raised his hand as the shuttle pulled in to the arena. “Go team!” He high-fived everyone in turn.
“If we start chanting USA, I don’t think we’ll be very popular.” Bailey laughed.
A cluster of fans waited by the skaters’ entrance, and Dev and Bailey gave Amaya and Reiko fond hugs and chatted with them and other fans before posing for pictures.
Bailey’s smile faded as they entered the arena and went through security. Louise was waiting in the backstage area near the dressing rooms. She opened her arms. “Here we are. Olympic venue!” She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Bailey and Dev chirped in unison.
She narrowed her eyes. “All right. Go get ready. We’re on the ice in twenty.”
Dev loitered in the dressing room as long as possible. Even for official practice, he and Bailey just wore their typical black spandex gear. While the ice dancers typically wore proper costumes in practice, the rest of the skaters went casual. He thought of Misha in his practice outfit and the way his pants clung to his muscular thighs. Then he thought of how those thighs trembled as he’d pounded Misha’s ass, and the sweet sounds he’d made, and—
He marched to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. With five minutes to go, Dev made his way to the rink in his skates, his skate guards clomping on the hard floor.
By the entrance to the rink adjacent to the empty Kiss and Cry area, Bailey and Louise waited with the other US and French teams and their coaches. During the competition, they’d sit on the bench in the Kiss and Cry with cameras a few feet away capturing every emotion as they waited for their marks. After a good skate, the Kiss and Cry was a fun place to be. After a bad one, it was torture.
At the end of each official practice, teams acknowledged the audience before leaving the ice. Dev knew the Russian teams were in the practice session before them, and one of the younger teams was taking their bows.
And of course, Misha and Kisa were coming off the ice just as Dev walked up. Kisa brushed by him without a glance, but as Misha straightened up from putting on his skate guards, he looked straight at Dev. For a long moment, their eyes met, and then Dev tore his gaze away and stood by Louise and Bailey.
God, he wanted to run after Misha and pull him into the nearest dark corner. It was like an itch on his skin, the need to touch him again. To hear his voice and smell his musky scent and see his eyes light up in amusement and darken with desire.
Shoulders high and rigid, Bailey stared at the ice. Louise raised an eyebrow.
“Ready to go, Dev?”
“Yep.”
As soon as the last team from the earlier practice left the ice, their group streamed on, their coaches by the boards to take their skate guards and offer tissues or water. Bailey was already halfway around the rink, stroking with purpose, when Dev skated after her. He did his own lap, which wasn’t unusual. Part of practice was always skating apart. They often did their own warm-up. After a few more laps, Dev caught up and reached his hand out. Without looking, Bailey took it, just as she had a million times before.
The announcer gave the order of music, and Bailey and Dev were third. Each team was allotted one program run-through with music, with all teams electing to do their short programs in this practice. With five teams w
ho weren’t used to practicing together on the ice, they were like fish in a tank, weaving around each other and sometimes coming too close for comfort. Over the years there had been some nasty collisions in practice, and Dev was always wary.
Caroline and Grant were first up with their music, and Dev and Bailey made sure to give them the right of way as they skated through their short program. Not all teams did a complete run-through, instead choosing to practice only key sections, but Caroline and Grant went from top to bottom, as did Dev and Bailey.
“Want to do the throw?” Dev asked.
“Sure,” Bailey answered. She had to look at him then, but she was all business.
As Dev predicted, the stands were fuller than a typical practice, with the home crowd cheering on the French teams. Of course as top contenders, he and Bailey were also heavily scrutinized, and Dev could feel the weight of thousands of eyes watching their every move. The judges would be watching very carefully.
After they practiced the throw in the far corner of the rink a few times, Bailey landing all of them except for one where she got too out of position in the air, they skated back to Louise for a drink and to get her notes.
She didn’t waste time. “What’s the problem?”
Dev glanced at Bailey, who jerked her shoulders in a shrug.
“Nerves. We’re fine.”
“Really?” Louise leaned in over the boards, her voice quiet but powerful. “Because you’re barely making eye contact out there. You’re my no-drama team. This is not the time to have a meltdown.”
“We won’t,” Dev assured her.
“All right. Go back out there and act like you like each other. Which you do, by the way. Whatever this is, get over it and move on. You’ve worked too hard for too long for the wheels to come off now. When your music comes on, you’re going to do your program like it’s Sunday night and this is the one that counts. The judges are watching, and they are taking note. Now go work on your twist. You’re not trying the quad, so your triple has to be perfect. Citius, altius, fortius!” Louise loved quoting the Olympic motto of “higher, faster, stronger.”
Cold War: Figure Skating Gay Romance Page 6
