“That’s not important to me. I just wanted to be part of something bigger than myself. There’s something special about working with a bunch of guys you trust toward a common goal. Everyone is integral to the win. You gotta give it your all every time you step on the field.”
Mitch nodded thoughtfully. “You’re passionate about it.”
“Yeah…I love it, but this is the end of the line for me. I’m hanging up my cleats after these last few games.”
“Then why are you doing this with me?” His voice was low and earnest, as though my response mattered to him.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t backed out yet,” he whispered.
“I’m not gonna back out. I like you,” I replied.
“I like you too.”
His smile brightened to something almost incandescent. He looked like a fucking angel. I nodded when he said it was time to switch the pace, but my attention span was shot. I gave automatic answers to silly questions, fixating on his bottom lip when he started talking about fruit preference. Strawberries…or maybe blueberries. I couldn’t concentrate. I had a strong urge to lick the corner of his mouth and—
“Kinky or romantic?”
“Strawberries?”
Mitch chuckled. “No. We moved on.”
“Oh. What’s the question?”
“How do you feel at this very moment? Kinky or romantic?”
“Horny,” I replied automatically.
We held each other’s gaze for a moment, then busted up laughing. My answer wasn’t funny. It was just…awkward. When we finally regained composure, I shifted on my stool, hooked my arm over his shoulders, and covered his mouth in a searing kiss, complete with tongue.
“Wow. Um…that was amazing.” He licked his lips in a daze when he pulled back. Then he pointed at the camera. “We’re supposed to dance now.”
“I don’t want to dance.”
“But it’s our boyfriend dance,” he reminded me in a breathy tone.
“All right. Then dance with me, boyfriend.” I reached for his hand as I stood, gently pulling him to his feet.
He stared at our laced fingers for a moment, then looked up. This time when our eyes met, we froze. I might have stopped breathing too. I couldn’t tell. I set my hands on his hips and swayed from side to side in something reminiscent of a clumsy slow dance at a high school formal. It should have been silly, but it felt hopelessly…romantic. We took a turn around the island and ended up near the door.
His nostrils flared when I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “Are you going to kiss me again?” he whispered.
When my gaze dropped to his lips, it was all over. I swallowed hard and switched positions so fast that his head hit the door. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I—”
Mitch growled, then grabbed me around the neck and crashed his mouth over mine. The frenetic hunger in the connection surprised me. He bit my lower lip before pushing his tongue inside with a sexy moan that sent a tingle of awareness along my spine. He slipped his hands under my shirt and raked his fingernails down my back while he sucked my tongue and tilted his hips suggestively. My cock swelled in my jeans. I’d been half-hard since we’d climbed the stairs, so the added pressure against my zipper was almost painful. I needed friction badly. It didn’t occur to me to second-guess what we were doing. Right now, I just wanted Mitch.
Our impromptu make-out session escalated in a flash. I grabbed his ass with both hands and ground my pelvis against his manically. Mitch gasped for air and threw his head back, hooking his leg over my thigh. I licked my way up his neck, nibbling his scruffy chin before sealing my mouth over his again. My skin tingled everywhere, and my brain was close to short-circuiting with desire. But that was okay. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to feel him. I pulled his shirt from his jeans and caressed his smooth stomach, then lowered my hand to his crotch and for the first time in my life, rubbed my palm over a man’s erect cock. When he whimpered in response, I lost it. I had to have him.
I broke our feverish kiss to fumble with his belt buckle. I unbuttoned his fly and moved on to his zipper and—
“Stop.”
I obeyed immediately. It took a second to string a coherent word or two together, though. I stared at his mouth before meeting his gaze. “But…don’t you…?”
“Yeah, I do. In fact, the urge to get on my knees and suck your dick is pretty fucking strong.”
“I’m totally okay with that,” I assured him.
“If you were straight, you wouldn’t like this.” He grabbed my cock through my jeans and stroked. I gasped in surprise, leaning my shoulder against the door to keep from falling over.
“Fuck. That’s good.”
“So you are bi.”
“I am.”
“You are what?” He tightened his grip around my shaft.