by Kendall Ryan
Maybe Landon will get his world rocked sooner than I expected.
• • •
Back at my apartment, we head straight for the bedroom, tumbling onto my duvet as we crash into each other. His mouth finds mine in one hungry kiss after another, his tongue intertwining with mine in confident strokes.
I moan against his lips, dragging my nails down the muscular terrain of his back. Within moments, he’s pulling his shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor before making quick work of mine.
His chest is so delicious that I actually sigh into his next kiss. My fingertips explore his wide pec muscles before trailing lower over the defined grooves etched into his abs. I press one hand against his jeans, enjoying the eager kick behind his zipper. Maybe it’s time to show him the surprise I have in store.
With one hand still resting on the ridge in his jeans, I blink up at him eagerly. “I got you something.”
Excitement flickers in his eyes. “A present?”
“Sort of. A toy.”
His brows scrunch together. “What kind of toy?”
“You know, a toy.”
I pull back from him, pressing a kiss against his stubbled jaw before reaching for my nightstand, tugging open the drawer, and pulling out the plastic box. Inside is a black silicone object with a soft pink end. It looks convincingly like a flashlight, which is the point, from what I understand.
“Ta-da.” I set it down on the duvet in front of us, waiting for Landon to pick it up and unbox it.
Instead, he just stares, his eyes wide with either confusion or surprise, I can’t quite tell.
“What the hell is that?”
“Come on. You know what it is.” I give my eyebrows a flirty wiggle.
His expression stays blank, though, so maybe he actually doesn’t know. “Is it . . . a sex toy?”
I smile encouragingly. “It is.”
“But it’s for, um, dudes,” he says, his mouth now crooked with an amused grin.
“Yes. I thought it might be fun.”
His gaze moves skeptically between my hand and the toy, then eventually meets mine. “Are you serious?”
I nod toward the box, giving him some much-needed encouragement. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Slowly, he tears into the packaging, removes the toy, and tests it with a few curious pokes. My heart pounds out an uneven rhythm.
Hesitantly, he pushes one finger into the opening at the end, watching with curious eyes as it disappears into the silicone. “This feels pretty realistic,” he admits, wiggling his finger around inside. I can hardly suppress my snicker.
I can’t even tell you how nervous I was buying the dang thing. I ordered it online, and as soon as I hit CONFIRM PURCHASE, I was terrified that when they delivered the toy, it would be done by a van with the words HOT SEX WAGON emblazoned on the side, blasting the song “Me So Horny” through a loudspeaker mounted to the roof.
Of course, it wasn’t anything as exciting as my overactive imagination had made it out to be. It came three days later in a plain brown box from a company with a name so boring, I’ve already forgotten what it was.
But now that we’re sitting here, my idea to use it as an intro for him suddenly seems a little stupid. Until Landon smiles wickedly and pushes one hand into my hair, bringing his mouth close to mine.
“I kinda love that you bought this, even if I feel a little weird about the fact that I want to try it.”
I smile and lean into his kiss. “Don’t feel weird. It’s going to be so hot watching you lose control.”
He quirks one eyebrow at me.
“Wanna test it out?” I ask, grinning. Okay, I might be a little excited about this.
He pauses, turns the toy over in his hand, then nods, handing it to me. “Fuck yeah, but first you’ve gotta get naked, because there’s no way tonight’s going to be just about me.”
With one more long, lingering kiss, Landon puts his fingers to work on the button to my jeans. When he slides his hand beneath the elastic of my panties, I give a little breathless groan.
“Landon . . .” I moan when he pushes one finger inside. “We need some lube.”
His mouth lifts as he meets my eyes. “No, we don’t.”
“I meant—for, for the toy,” I stammer.
“Oh, right.”
He shifts to his feet to shove off his jeans and boxers, stepping out of them as he strokes himself once. He’s already fully hard, and the sight of him in all his masculine glory makes my lower half clench.
I watch his hand as it absently glides up and down over his smooth shaft. Even though it’s been only a day since I’ve had my hands on him, I’m desperate to feel him again. The moonlight illuminates his sculpted frame as he settles back onto the bed beside me, and it takes every bit of willpower in my body not to climb into his lap and sink down until every inch of him is inside me.
Patience, Aubree. That will come. One step at a time.
“Ready?” I add some of the lube I bought to the toy, then align the soft pink silicone with his swollen tip. When I turn to him for approval, he gives me a small sharp nod, and my heart throbs. Here goes nothing.
With a slow exhale, I push down, easing a few inches of him into the soft silicone opening. His eyes roll back in his head in response. Oh hell, that’s hot.
“Fuck,” he curses, low under his breath.
“Yeah?” I give him another inch, earning me a desperate groan. A deep, throaty sound that makes my pulse race.
“God, yeah. That’s unreal.”
I press a kiss against his stubble, moving the toy a little farther down his shaft. “Just wait until you try the real thing.”
A shudder courses through him as he shifts his hips forward, sinking another inch deeper. “Oh shit,” he whispers as I pull the toy back toward his tip, then push back down, all the way to the base.
“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs, his jaw clenched.
After that, he’s speechless, reduced to short, shallow breaths as I work him over. A few more thrusts and those breaths turn to low, strained grunts.
It’s way hotter than I ever imagined watching his wide chest rise with halting breaths, watching his fists clutch the sheets, listening to those deep pleasure-drenched sounds tumbling from his lips.
My body reacts immediately, tightening and growing needy for his touch. He’s so insanely attractive. We kiss, and he touches my breasts, but he’s obviously distracted, which is kind of adorable.
“Gonna come now.” With one last sexy sound, he does, emptying himself in bursts as his chest heaves.
Holy hell, that was hot. I set the toy aside, waiting for him to regain his composure.
After a few shaky breaths, a satisfied smile breaks out on his face. “Jesus Christ. What do I owe you for that thing?”
A laugh falls from my lips as I run my fingers along the curve of his jaw. “You liked it?”
“Uh, yeah. In case you couldn’t tell.” His cheeks are slightly flushed, and he’s still breathing hard.
“Well, I think I know of one way you can pay me back.”
“Yeah?” His eyes turn a stormy dark blue as he wets his lower lip, tugging me to the edge of the bed and then sinking to his knees. “I think I can do that.”
14
* * *
A First Time for Everything
Landon
“Cheers,” Teddy says, raising his glass of whiskey.
“You guys didn’t need to do this. I already had a bachelor party,” Owen says in protest, but he’s grinning.
The truth is, summer will be over before we know it, and the rigors of training camp are mere weeks away. Which means this weekend is basically just an excuse to get drunk, eat badly, sleep in, and have bro-time. But, of course, it’s all been done under the guise of a bachelor-party-bonding weekend with the groomsmen from Owen’s wedding—Teddy, Asher, Justin, and me. His cousin Matt is in the wedding party too, I guess, but he lives in California and will only be coming into town for the wed
ding, which will take place in two weeks in Becca’s hometown.
“Cheers,” I say, and we all raise our glasses of expensive whiskey. It goes down smooth, and I can already tell my everything-in-moderation rule is going to be blown to shit tonight.
Not that I really mind.
We’re staying here tonight in an old converted barn an hour north of the city. It’s been turned into a luxury vacation rental, complete with vaulted ceilings and rustic hardwood floors, a clawfoot tub in the bathroom that I’m sure no one in this group will appreciate, and six bedrooms. Even if I get hammered, which is likely, based on the speed at which Teddy keeps refilling our glasses, all I have to do is make it up one flight of stairs and into the room with a queen-size bed that’s mine for the next forty-eight hours.
“How are things going with you and Aubree?” Owen asks, his brows drawing together. “Still haven’t smashed yet, I take it?”
I really wish I hadn’t told him that. “We’ve been taking things slow, but yeah, things are good.”
Good is an understatement, of course, but I can’t tell him that, because this thing between Aubree and me is still fragile and a work in progress. Memories of our last night together—of the special gift she got me—send a flash of heat bolting down my spine. But our relationship is growing, and it’s more than just the few sexy moments we’ve shared. I like being with her, a lot, and I find myself wanting to know every single thing about her.
Hoping to move the conversation along, I wander into the massive great room and plop down onto the L-shaped leather couch. Only I’m short on luck tonight, because the guys follow, Teddy grabbing the whiskey bottle from the kitchen counter before joining us. It’s a testament to how massive this couch is that it can fit five hockey players comfortably.
“So, you guys haven’t fucked yet, just to be clear?” Owen asks, abandoning all subtlety, and I glare at him.
“Have you been hit in the head with a puck too many times?”
“I remember my first time.” Asher lets out a long sigh. “It was with a girl named Sarina in tenth grade. I thought I loved her.”
“Tenth grade?” Teddy whistles low under his breath. “Mine wasn’t until sophomore year of college.”
Asher nods. “Yup. I thought I was a pretty big fucking deal. She was two years older than me. Although what happened after that kinda sucked.”
Owen chuckles. “What … she spread rumors that you had a three-inch cock?”
“No, asshole.” Asher heaves out a frustrated sound and grabs the bottle to refill his glass. “She broke my heart. Left me for some guy she met at Yale the following year. Although, if she could have spread any rumor, it would have been about my stamina. Because, yeah, it was over fast. Sixteen-year-old me had zero chill.”
“Hey, Covey, you’d better start taking notes here,” Teddy says. “Expect to last for about three pumps.”
Justin shakes his head, leaning in to get into the conversation for the first time. “Not necessarily true. I was so nervous, I couldn’t get there. It took almost an hour for me to finish.”
“Thanks, guys.” I hold up one hand. I’m not nearly drunk enough to be having this conversation with my teammates. “As much as I appreciate your advice, I think I’m good.”
Owen has a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s remembering something. Then he starts to chuckle. “Yeah, I forgot about that. I almost went soft when I put on the condom, because that fucker was so tight. So, yeah, you never know what might happen, Covington.”
A frustrated groan pours out of me. “Dudes, with all due respect, shut the fuck up. Can we please talk about literally anything else?”
Unfortunately for me, they keep right on oversharing.
I learn things I never, ever wanted to know about these dudes losing their V-cards. I mean, Asher cried after his first time, apparently. And Teddy proposed marriage. God, these cringe-worthy stories need to stop. Immediately.
“Hey, I’m just going to make a phone call,” I say, rising to my feet. I don’t wait for them to respond as I start down the hall. I didn’t call Aubree when we arrived, and that seems like a very husbandly thing to do.
I slip into the hall bath and close the door, closing out the sound of their voices as I dial her number. She answers after the first ring.
“Hey. I missed you and wanted to hear your voice,” I say in greeting.
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” I can tell she’s smiling. “Are you having an amazing time?”
“I think I’m supposed to say yes, aren’t I?”
She chuckles, and the sound of her laughter makes my own mouth quirk up.
“How was work? What are you doing?” I ask.
Aubree lets out a strained sigh. “Work is . . . a little complicated right now. But I’m good. Just hanging out at home tonight.”
“I wish I was there with you. A quiet night in sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s wrong? You’re not having fun?” she asks.
“They’re drunk. And oversharing.”
“The topic?”
“First times,” I mutter, unamused.
“As in . . .”
“Yeah.”
Aubree makes a breathless sound. “Oh, interesting. The girls might have done the same thing to me.”
I chuckle. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. They ambushed me at Justin and Elise’s place and started sharing details that I had absolutely no interest in learning.”
My brows push together. Sounds familiar. “Why is everyone so obsessed with this?”
I hope she doesn’t answer that question, because the topic of why my P hasn’t been inside her V isn’t one that’s easily understood. It’s like solving a complex mathematical equation. These things take time. Although, it’s something that’s been on my mind a lot lately.
“No clue,” she says with a chuckle, saving me from some real embarrassment.
“Maybe we’re not ready for primetime, but what about something a little more technology friendly?” I ask, my voice low.
“Phone sex?” Aubree murmurs, her voice lifting.
“I’m down if you are,” I say, but all I can hear is her shallow breathing, and not much more. Maybe I’ve spooked her or pressed too hard.
“It’s just . . . how would we even start?” she whispers.
I flip the lock on the bathroom door and lean one hip against the marble counter.
I could start by telling her I’m horny as fuck right now and trapped in a barn-turned-house with four other dudes. But somehow I don’t think that would set the mood I’m going for. That mood being—how to get her fingers in her pussy so I can hear her moaning.
“Well . . .” I hesitate for just a second. “I could start by telling you that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that day in my apartment when I went down on you. You tasted so fucking good.”
There’s a sharp inhale of breath. “Are you alone right now?”
“Of course,” I murmur. “I’m alone, and my dick is getting hard for you.”
“Oh,” she says on a groan. “That’s a nice thought. Why don’t you take it out for me?”
I exhale, my breath coming faster. “I might be able to do that. Where are you? Alone too?”
“I’m in my bed. Under the covers.”
I draw down the zipper to my pants.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asks, slightly breathless.
“Maybe. First, slide your fingers under your shirt. Touch your perfect tits for me.”
“Mmm. Done.” She moans. “Tell me now.”
I almost chuckle at her impatience, but I don’t, because I wasn’t kidding when I said I was hard for her. It’s like all the blood in my body has been diverted to my sorely neglected dick.
“I’m taking my cock out. It’s so hard for you, Aubree. What should I do?”
“Stroke it,” she says.
“Wrapping it in my fist,” I rasp out. “Put your fingers in your panties, baby.”
“Already there,” she whispers. “I’m wet.”
A stuttered breath leaves my lungs, but I force the words out. “Good. Touch your clit for me while I jerk off.”
She groans again, saying my name like it’s a plea. I love that sound leaving her lips.
Fuck, who knew phone sex could be this amazing?
Blood races through my veins like wildfire, lighting up every nerve ending. The sound of her short, halting breaths through the phone is making me insane. If I weren’t an hour away, I’d drive over to her place right now and pound her into the wall.
“Landon, I’m close,” she says.
Hell yeah. My fist moves in short, efficient strokes, trying to get there with her.
Until a loud, unwelcome bang hits the door, and my heart almost stops. What the fuck?
“Wrap it up, Covey! I need to piss!” Asher calls through the door, totally killing the mood.
Fuck.
I tuck my still-erect dick back into my jeans and pinch the bridge of my nose, hissing out a shaky exhale. “Be out in a second!” I call.
“Oh no he’s not!” Aubree calls out to Asher, even though he can’t hear her. She’s not on speakerphone. Her moans and gasps were for my ears only.
“Shit, I’m sorry about this.” I rub one hand over my face.
A huge groan of frustration pours out of Aubree. “This is awful. Your teammates suck. I hate them.”
“I do too.” I chuckle. “But I’ll make it up to you when I get back. I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she says.
I grin, despite the massive case of blue balls I’m sure I’ll have later. “Please do.”
15
* * *
This or That
Aubree
“Cats or dogs?” I’m sitting at the kitchen table in Landon’s newly furnished apartment, twirling lo mein noodles around a set of chopsticks, and waiting for his answer to this obviously crucial, but very easy-to-answer question.
Our low-key evening started with a half-hour debate about what takeout to order and has turned into a full-on game of trying to agree on anything whatsoever. So far, Chinese food has been the only common ground we’ve found.
