The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning 1)

I was still inside him, buried in all his tight heat, as he squirted lube into his hand. He wrapped his arm around me again and tugged me toward him so my tongue could fuck his mouth while my cock pounded into his ass. It was fucking fantastic.

He jacked his cock while I took him, owned him, in only one of the ways I wanted to, our tongues still moving together.

My balls drew up tight as my orgasm barreled through me. I knew I wouldn’t last much longer, and then West pulled his mouth away, stroked faster, and cried out, shooting his load all over himself and the bed. When his ass tightened around me, it was all the encouragement my balls needed to let loose, to fill the condom with my load the way I wished I could fill his ass.

We fell into a sweaty heap on the bed, breathing deeply, a smile stretching across my lips.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt better. Not even after winning the Super Bowl.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Weston

I didn’t know how long we lay there together, arms and legs entwined. Anson had his head on my chest, and he was tangled around me as though afraid if he let go, I would disappear. I loved that my big, muscular football player clung to me so fiercely.

He had come to me. I still couldn’t wrap my brain around it. With another man, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I’d never lacked in the confidence department, but none of that felt—none of them felt—the way Anson did. Everything else was like make-believe, but for me, this, with him, was the real thing, and that scared the shit out of me.

It would hurt to lose him. Anson had somehow gained the ability to hurt me when no one else ever had, when I’d kept that part of myself locked away because if my own family hadn’t loved me enough, how could anyone else?

I kissed the top of his head because I needed to do something.

Anson finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For the Super Bowl. You should have told me. If you had, I would have—”

“Felt obligated to leave a party you had no business leaving. A party you deserved and wanted to be at. That was your moment, Bashful. There is nothing wrong with taking it.”

He was quiet, and I couldn’t help wondering what was going on in his head. I kissed it again, and he said, “Then I’m sorry I wouldn’t have had the balls to take you to the party with me.”

That stung, even though I’d already known it was true and understood the why of it. “That has nothing to do with balls. Coming out isn’t about being brave. There are real, honest worries involved. People who have never experienced it, wouldn’t understand that. And for someone like you, it could affect your career. You’ve worked your whole life for this, and the world is a shitty place with shitty people in it. There are no guarantees that there would be no blowback, and I understand that.”

I fucking hated it, but I knew it was reality.

“What did your parents do when they found out?”

“I think they always knew, but when it couldn’t be denied, they sent me away to a summer camp that was supposed to fix what they thought was broken in me.” I ran my hand up and down his arm, needing to feel the friction of his skin against mine.

“Christ, West.”

“It is what it is. I wasn’t broken, and that camp didn’t fix anything.”

He kissed my chest, squeezed my arm, pulled me closer to him with the leg he had thrown over me. “No, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re…everything.”

I chuckled and tried to play it off by saying, “Even I wouldn’t go that far,” but really, his words burrowed into me, found a home in my heart, and made me feel worthy.

“I’m serious. Do you think I would have ever been able to do any of this with anyone except you? I wouldn’t have. There’s something about you, about us. The shit just keeps growing, keeps getting bigger and digging its claws in deeper.”

My heart thudded, and I knew he had to feel it against his face. It hit me then how right he was. I knew I wanted Anson, that I liked him and cared for him, but that wasn’t all that was there. I was in love with him—fucking crazy, head over ass in love with him—and I wasn’t sure it would ever go away.

“But it’s even more than that,” he continued. “You’re such a good person. You work your ass off. All you want to do is make the world a better place, to help people. You’re smart, and you always find a way to be there when I need you, even if I don’t know you’re there. It was your words, your text, that gave me what I needed to win that game. I…”