The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning 1)

“You were there,” was the only response I could manage, and for the first time ever, I saw West flush with embarrassment.

“I wondered if I’d get outed somehow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your game. I worried it might stress you out if you knew I was there. Afterward, you were busy. As you should have been. I don’t know why I didn’t consider that. Of course you’d celebrate with your team, but I—”

My mouth cut off whatever he was going to say next. West didn’t miss a beat, returning the kiss instantly, his hands on my hips as I held the back of his head. His mouth tasted like cinnamon, as if he’d just brushed his teeth, and I wished I’d been able to do more than suck on mints during my flight.

I kept pushing against him until West hit the wall. He cursed against my lips, but when I tried to pull away, he didn’t let me. It was a battle of mouths, tongues, and hands as we each tried to take control of the kiss, grabbing and squeezing, pushing and pulling as we did. I growled into his mouth as his hold tightened. I wanted marks there, needed to be able to see how his want made him hold me so tight, he left bruises behind.

“I want you,” I admitted as my mouth journeyed down his neck. “Please, can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” he replied, and then his hand was around my wrist and he was pulling me into the living room, toward the stairs, and up them. We hurried, rushing to get to his room. I had the urge to tell him I’d race him, which was stupid, but then we were there and he was tugging down his sweats and underwear, his long, thick cock jutting free.

I needed him so bad, my head spun and my vision blurred. “Christ, West, you are so goddamned beautiful.”

West froze. His eyes darted to me, held my gaze. There was something I couldn’t read in his expression. Had I never said anything like that to him before? If not, I should have.

“You’re overdressed for someone who plans to take my ass.”

I grabbed him, pulled him to me, took his mouth in a bruising kiss, then pushed him onto the bed. He landed on his back, cock bouncing against his belly.

He smiled. “So, now that you’ve got me where you want me, I think it’s time you start getting naked, yes?”

“Fucker.” I laughed, but he was right. I kicked off my shoes, worked my pants open with shaky fingers, and tugged them down. I pulled my shirt over my head, shoved my underwear off, and…stared at him. At the beautiful man stroking his cock, his eyes riveted on me.

I was going to fuck him, and I knew there would be no going back from that. Not for me.

“I…”

“Shh. It’s okay, Bashful. We’ll talk later. We deserve this.”

There was a sadness in his voice I couldn’t quite understand. Did that mean this was a onetime thing? Was that something he wanted, or something he thought I wanted, or what he knew was for the best?

I forced myself to shove those thoughts from my head. In that moment, I just needed him. He was right. We deserved the time together.

“Move over. Lie on the bed the right way.”

“Yes, sir.” West grinned. “Lube and condoms are in the top drawer of the nightstand.”

I nodded, plucked them out, and saw a… Well, shit. A dildo in a package.

“Something catch your eye in there?”

“Do you use…that?”

“Yes, sometimes, when I feel like being fucked. I also have a Fleshlight for when I want to fuck and I’m alone. Great stuff. You should try them both. I’ve been using them a lot more since meeting you.”

God, he was going to kill me. “Maybe next time,” I managed to say, grabbing what we needed and setting the items on the mattress.

His eyes turned dark. “Come here. I’m tired of waiting. I want your cock.”

As if I could say no to that.

I knelt between West’s spread thighs, leaned over him, and kissed him. This time, our mouths and tongues moved slower, less urgently, like we were savoring each other rather than trying to gorge like we had when I first arrived.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down so I lay on top of him, his warm, hard body against mine while we kissed and rutted together. Fuck, he felt so good, so right. Not only because he was a man, but because he was West. My West.

I kissed his neck and sucked on it, not enough to leave a mark. He positioned me so he could pull me down, my pec against his mouth, and sucked me there, like I’d done to him, only I said, “Harder.”