The End Zone (Atlanta Lightning 2)

My erection jumped at his possessive words. I liked that. I really fucking liked it.

Jeremy fisted my erection, began jerking me off with each slide of his cock in and out of me. I could feel his movements becoming more erratic and knew he was close. It was a good thing I was too.

He leaned over my back, changing the angle slightly.

“Your hole is my new most favorite thing. I’m gonna want to be inside it a lot, baby. You gonna let me? You gonna let me keep fucking you?”

“Yes…hell yes,” I replied as he hit me just right. My vision blurred, and my body trembled with the strength of the orgasm that rocked through me. My body tightened, Jeremy’s cock spasming inside me.

“Fuck…Jesus Christ…so good.” The last two words he said over and over as we both came together, come on his hand, on the bed, me wishing his was inside me instead of the rubber.

We fell to the mattress, coming down from the high together. We were messy and sweaty, and that was one of my favorite parts.

Jeremy kissed my shoulder, once, twice. I could feel the insecurity in the press of his mouth. “It was good for you?”

“It was fucking great for me.”

I rolled over, pulled the condom off him, spilling come on me, before tossing it into the trash. I tugged Jeremy into my arms, and he came easily.

He said, “We’re gonna be okay, right? No matter what happens? I know today was—”

“Shh.” I kissed him. “We’re always gonna be okay.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to leave me for your physical therapist.”

I pulled back, frowning. “What?”

“He’s queer…you didn’t know?”

Well, now I felt stupid. “No. I thought he was staring at us because he was a dick or we were a show to him.”

Jeremy chuckled. “My poor man doesn’t have gaydar. He was happy for us, Dare. He might also want to bone us.”

I laughed, hugged him tighter. Yeah, we would always be okay. I didn’t think I could live without him.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jeremy

Mid-January

Things were crazy-busy. There had been quite the hoopla following our little escapade at the restaurant. It made its rounds online, but the Lightning did work to get it taken down when they could.

Darren didn’t let it get to him. He was putting a hundred percent into his recovery, working with his physical therapist and doing the exercises at home. We’d started jogging together in the evenings, which was both fun and not. I enjoyed the time with him but exercising with a professional football player wasn’t a walk in the park. The thing was, I knew he was actually going easy on me, but if I never heard, “Come on, Angel, you can do it! We’re almost done! Go, go, go!” ever again, I definitely wouldn’t complain. I’d never had a problem with physical training, but the one time I tried to hit the gym with him, I almost couldn’t move the next day—and he wasn’t even going at the pace he would have pre-injury. He still had to work up to that. But he’d given me a full-body rubdown, so ya know, it turned out okay in the end. And we typically showered together after the jogs, washing each other and making each other come. That helped too.

The Lightning were still in the playoffs, and I could see Darren’s conflicted emotions. He was proud of his team. He wanted another championship. He wanted them to succeed, but he also wanted to be out there playing with them. He wanted to feel needed, and it didn’t matter that I told him they wouldn’t be where they were if he hadn’t played the first few months of the season. He was an athlete and didn’t see it that way. I got it because it was even difficult on me. I loved football and enjoyed watching them play, but I wished my man was out there too. I didn’t always know how much to cheer or not cheer, how much to mention the team or not.

That wasn’t something Darren expected of me—worrying about how to react—but it was something I needed to do for him. When a person loved someone, they tried to make life as easy for them as they could.

West and I were working together every day, and I found it so fulfilling. Larsen had come on staff as a physician. Darren grumbled jokingly that he better stay away from his man, but Larsen had moved on. Him asking me out had been a one-time thing.

The more time I spent with West at You Belong, the more I realized how much I loved what we’d built there together, what West had allowed me to take part in with him. It was where I needed to be. I wanted to help people—to expand, to be a part of something important. I just wasn’t sure what was happening with Darren.