Rules, Schmules! (Fast Break Book 1), page 10
It’s impossible to not hold my breath. He’s so damn close, and I’m already on the edge. Just as I’m starting to go lightheaded from lack of air, a whoosh of breath escapes me as he simultaneously takes a firm grip of the base of my dick and sucks my helmet before journeying down.
I sigh in relief. His mouth is perfect, the suction incredible, and pace enough for my eyes to cross. The grunts and groans escaping me are loud, and I’m on the cusp of whimpering. “Holy…” It’s all I can manage, completely ensnared by his skilled mouth.
“Yo, Dean.” The sound of a door closing punctuates the voice.
Dean freezes, my cock in his mouth. Both our eyes are wide, and I’m sure as shit mine are filled with panic.
“Fuck.” I make a move to scramble for my clothes as Dean pulls away just in time for me to not lose my cock. I grasp my clothes and tug them on as Dean stands and wipes his mouth.
“Shit. Zeke’s early.” He hesitates before taking a breath. “It’s fine. I’ll go and speak to him. Just…” Dean’s steady gaze trails over my face, the move and look in his eyes reassuring and surprisingly calming. “…stay here, get dressed. We’re only studying.”
If I hadn’t been holding my breath while looking at him, I would have missed the tightness around his eyes. But it disappears instantly. A small, reassuring smile follows.
“Give me a minute.”
When he leaves, I finish getting dressed. My hands shake, and for the first time in maybe ever, I feel sick. Sick at my reaction. Sick at my fear. Sick that I made the decision to live this way.
Right alongside that nausea is a heavy hit of guilt.
I’m privileged as fuck. My team knows I’m gay. Hell, all my immediate family does too, and I’ve received nothing but unconditional love and support. Yet here I am cowering and racing to get dressed so the rest of the world doesn’t find out. And for what? Asshole fans and players and the goddamn media potentially being homophobic pricks and throwing some hate my way in a future that may never eventuate.
Self-loathing is a bastard of a thing. As is shame.
I have to get out of here.
Once dressed, I head downstairs, hearing voices in the kitchen. Where my bag is. I fix on a smile, scan the room, and aim it at Zeke. “Hey, Zeke.”
He casts me a wide smile, and from that look alone it’s obvious he’s none the wiser. “Kieran, hey. Great game.”
I ignore his embarrassed wince, since he already said that to me yesterday. “Thanks. Let’s hope we can keep up this winning streak.” Immediately my mind goes to Dean and wondering if he’ll be coming to the next home game. No chance I’m asking. Zeroing in on Dean, I nod. While my lips are curved up, I’m not feeling it, and from the concern in his eyes, Dean’s not buying it either.
“You leaving?”
I bob my head. “Yeah. The guys keep texting me about going out tonight. Someone’s gotta keep them in line.”
His lips pinch together.
“Thanks for today. I’ll email you to make sure we’re on track.”
“Okay.” It’s impossible not to notice the shift. His tone is guarded, his expression shuttered. All it does is remind me that I’m a prick on so many levels, and as hot as this was, it was a big fucking mistake.
“I’ll see you guys soon.” I send Zeke one more chin lift and gather my things and hightail it.
Dean doesn’t follow.
CHAPTER 9
RULE 9: LEAD BY EXAMPLE
DEAN
Who knew incredible chemistry and awkward meetings could result in earning an A? Though I’m sure we could have achieved that grade if post-BJ meetings were scored. Either way, I’m pleased with the grade and that it’s keeping my GPA nice and steady. I just wished the three meetings we organized to finish up had gone differently.
But it’s over. There’s no group work in sight, and with the holidays fast approaching, and new courses in the new year, I don’t expect our paths to cross again. Well, with the exception of me watching the games. So far, I’ve watched every single one. I’m a sucker, I know. But when Kieran’s played at home, I’ve made sure to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
I’m a glutton for punishment, but at least I’m owning it, right? He’s got a spectacular dick, and I barely even got a taste. And that’s totally all it is.
If you’re rolling your eyes and calling bullshit, I’m going to plead the fifth.
I think about Kieran daily and how we connected. What a decent guy he appears to be is neither here nor there. Not since he ran and has been all but hidden beyond our civil group meetings.
I sigh, wondering if I should have just stayed in tonight. Campus is half empty, with most students already heading off for Thanksgiving.
Since I’m local, my Thanksgiving plans involve working as many hours as possible at the diner and hanging out with Zeke.
“I didn’t think you were going to show.”
“As if I’m going to stand you up, Simone.” I lean in and kiss her cheek and relax a little when I inhale her honeysuckle perfume.
Hooking her arm through mine, something I found odd at first as I’ve never had this sort of friendship with anyone before, she takes a step in the direction of O’Connell Street. There’s a Thanksgiving blowout party going on tonight. It’s at Phi Alpha Delta. Is it bad that I roll my eyes just thinking that?
Me, at a frat party.
But hey, I haven’t had a drink for weeks, so caught up in studying, working, and thinking about a basketball player who’s been avoiding me. It means I’m ready to relax, have a few drinks, and while I’d like to add “hook up” to that list, I’m not holding my breath. I’m best off venturing into the city to find some action if I’m that desperate. Though, honestly, I’m not feeling it.
We pause at the curb before crossing the street. “What time are you leaving in the morning?” I ask.
“My flight’s at one fifteen, so I have every intention of waking up hungover. You sure you don’t want to come?”
Simone’s asked me at least five times to head to California with her. Her parents have a beach house. The place sounds amazing, but I don’t want to ditch Zeke for Thanksgiving. Plus, I barely have enough cash to contribute to groceries.
“Maybe next time.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. Remember my twenty-first is this summer. The ’rents have promised me and a select group of friends”—she squeezes my arm—“a trip to Mexico. You can’t bail on that.”
Before I can provide another argument, she hip checks me. “I mean it, Dean. The ’rents are covering the flights and everything.” When she’s all peppy like this, it takes me by surprise. She’s the same age as I am—I turned twenty-one early September—but sometimes I feel those extra two months have made me a little pessimistic to the world.
I scrunch my nose at her offer. Mexico at any time of the year sounds amazing, but taking a handout feels gross. “We’ll see.” It’s a few months away, so I have time to pick up a few more work shifts and save if I really want to go.
She angles to look at me, and I know she’s shooting lasers at me. I laugh and shake my head. “’We’ll see’ isn’t an outright no.” It’s all I can offer. I really should get over myself and snatch the gift with both hands and give my absolute gratitude.
“Fine.” Simone drags the word out, and we round the corner to O’Connell Street. There are students milling around and music playing, but not so loud it’ll earn a visit from the cops. “Come on. You can be my wingman. I need to get wasted and maybe even laid.”
“Maybe just one of those,” I say, not liking the thought of her going off with someone while being off her face.
“You see, best wingman ever.”
I groan but will absolutely watch her back if she’s planning on getting wasted.
It doesn’t take long for us to pay and enter the party, knock back three shots that make me grimace, and find a spot in one of the rooms shooting off from the main space. The party isn’t super crazy. While there are still countless bodies filling the house and making it loud enough that we have to raise our voices to be heard, it’s fairly mellow.
There a bunch of people dancing on a makeshift dance floor in the main room, and with the moving bodies, it’s warm enough for me to tug off my coat. The beer I’ve just finished and the sip of my second I’ve just taken is probably helping to keep me warm too.
“Off your ass and let’s dance.”
Simone drags me to the group of people dancing. I’m not exactly kicking and screaming, as I love to dance, and screw being self-conscious. I know I can move.
I let go in the crowd of bodies, loving they have strobe lighting in here. And despite the open space, the bass doesn’t get lost. It thrums through the small crowd and the floor, traveling up my spine. The only thing missing is a fog machine, but it’s worth it to have fresher air surround me.
I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing. I’ve lost count of the songs, but I know I’m feeling more sober. I’m also thirsty.
“Drink?” I signal to Simone. She gives me thumbs up but makes no sign to move. Since she’s had her sights set on a cute guy for at least the last fifteen minutes, I kinda figured she wouldn’t want to leave. “No disappearing without telling me.”
She plants a kiss on my cheek, saying, “Promise,” before making a beeline to the dark-haired guy who’s caught her attention. I take a moment to watch them, looking over the guy to try and get a read on him. He’s sort of familiar, tall, and the way he’s focusing on Simone, he’s definitely interested.
Fairly sure she’s at least safe while I go in search of a drink, I create a path through the dancing bodies and head to the kitchen. It doesn’t take long to have a shot poured for me, but before I grab a second, I need to take a leak.
There are more people in the house than I expected, making it a bit of a mission to find the bathroom. I get there, though, and don’t even have to wait.
After washing up, a glance at the time tells me it’s close to midnight. Since I don’t have a shift until tomorrow afternoon, I’m free to have a late night. I still have to Uber home, but I’m in no rush.
I unlock the door and stumble back when it opens before I get the chance to pull it. Heart pounding at the intrusion, I stare wide-eyed at the man filling the doorway. It’s only a beat before he’s stepping quickly inside and closing the door behind him before securing the lock.
Kieran.
There’s an intensity in his gaze that I’ve seen before, but not since we ate ice cream. Is it possible he looks hotter?
“Kieran.” I frown and work hard at not dropping to my knees to finish what I started a few weeks back. Instead, I pull forth my indifference, pretty much what he’s offered me since Zeke interrupted us. “I’ve just finished up.” It’s best I go for the obvious and plead ignorance.
I don’t feel like I have a right to be pissed off, especially as we agreed on no strings. Okay, I kinda do, but I’m trying to not let it… him bother me. But since he’s been so aloof, it’s hard not to be hurt. I didn’t expect us to try again necessarily, nor did I expect to hang out and have a few beers together.
He still hasn’t spoken, yet I feel his attention on me completely. It’s enough for my hairs to stand on end under his perusal. That gaze of his is seductive and dangerous, which means I need to get away fr—
The abruptness of his mouth on mine destroys all thought. Kieran’s kissing me like he’s possessed, taking my breath and my sense with it.
Deep and passionate, the kiss is everything I’ve been craving. His tongue brushes against mine, tangling, before he’s sucking, exploring. Heat licks up my spine, and I cling to him, not wanting to stop, but wanting to let go, wanting his mouth on mine, on my body, anywhere I can get it.
Kieran Kendall is addictive. Hell, I always thought coffee was my elixir. How ridiculously wrong I was.
Effortlessly, he eases me against the wall, pressing his hard body against mine. He’s scooting low, and knowing it’s so I don’t have to stand on my tiptoes makes it difficult to not want everything with this man.
“You drive me crazy.” His words are all growly, the gruffness sending shivers down my spine.
I clutch his hair and ease away. Once our eyes connect, I hold firm, and he winces at the pull. “You’re a fucking idiot.” Our mouths connect once again, this time slower but no less hot. It’s a flicker of tongue, a caress, a gentle glide—
Someone knocks on the door. No, they fucking hammer.
“Seriously?!” Kieran is breathless when he speaks, as am I, as we abruptly part. But not completely, much to my surprise. When he rests his forehead against mine, that surprise morphs into a flutter of excitement in my gut.
“Kieran, you in there, man?”
Kieran winces, though his hold remains. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “Leon,” he hollers, thankfully not in my face. “The fuck, man, a bit of privacy.”
A chuckle travels through the door. Leon’s I assume. “Sorry, bro. Just looking at heading out. Gonna go for pizza. You coming?”
Kieran’s gaze connects to mine, and he smirks. “Apparently not. Again.”
I hold back my snort, not quite sure which alternate universe I’ve landed in. Kieran Kendall is being all cool and unfazed. He’s not freaking out. I expected him to be out the window by now.
“You guys go ahead. I’m gonna head back.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, not quite feeling it.” The asshole I’m clinging to thrusts his hips against mine for good measure. I narrow my gaze. He seriously wants to play this game with me?
They carry on a whole conversation as I make quick work of his jeans. Kieran’s breath hitches when I grasp his cock. He’s hard and all but throbbing in my hand. It’s when I start jacking him off, a little awkwardly as his pants aren’t fully open, that he grunts and grabs my hand to stop me.
The warning in his stare is hot as fuck. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he shouts, his gaze fierce as he holds my wrists. Yeah, plural. I’ve tried twice to get back to work, but the man is too strong for his own good.
Finally it’s mercifully quiet.
“Your friends don’t know when to leave a guy to take a shit in peace.”
Kieran snorts loudly. “Tell me about it. You think that’s bad, try living with them.” Still holding my wrists, he places them around my back. “You were doing one hell of a job at distracting me there.”
“I was?” I aim for nonchalance, not willing to let go of this playful exchange we have going on. It’s unexpected, and I’m far too horny to do anything sensible like leave him.
“Where are you staying tonight?” His voice pitches low. “There enough room for me?”
I wince, wishing that were the case. “I’m heading home.” No chance am I screwing around with my mom and Zeke at home. “Let’s go to yours.”
Frown lines appear on his forehead. “That’s not a good idea.”
“What, you can’t keep quiet?”
A delicious pink crawls up his neck, and this close, it’s easy to see his pupils dilate.
“You don’t want me to swallow your cum?” I push, totally getting off on just how pink he’s turning. His breathing picks up. “I promise I can be stealthy. Sneak on out of there without anyone knowing.”
God, I’m an asshole. Stealth is not my middle name. But for the chance of a night with Kieran, I’ll pull out all the stops. Shit, I’ll even crawl out his bathroom window if necessary.
“You know,” I continue, sure there’s a special place in hell for me, considering just how hard I’m trying to convince him to finally let go, “I’ve got the perfect cure for making you really thankful this Thanksgiving.” I stand on my tiptoes and press the lightest of kisses on his lips before trailing soft kisses toward his ear. “It involves my dick and your prostate.”
I know I’m taking a real chance here since none of our conversations have ventured at all into this territory. But screw it. There’s something about Kieran that screams he’s a man who needs to be topped. I just hope he knows it.
And holy shit, his breath catches, his eyes blaze with heat, and he slams his mouth to mine. The kiss is brutal and far too short, since he drags his mouth away. I try to chase the movement, but he shakes his head.
“Meet me at the corner of O’Connell and Western in two minutes.”
And then I’m alone, breathing raggedly and wondering how I’m going to survive having just one night with Kieran Kendall.
CHAPTER 10
RULE 3 SECTION C: NO HOOKING UP ON CAMPUS
KIERAN
The only head that’s thinking or matters is the one straining to be free. I’m also pretty sure if I look down, I’ll have a wet patch from my dick weeping with joy.
It’s that need that gets me out of the party and to Dean, then the short couple of blocks to my house, which, thank Christ, is dark and empty. It’s what helps me lead Dean to my room and lock my door. It’s the driving force that gets us stripped naked and on the bed, lube and condoms beside us, and Dean sprawled on top of me.
Frantic hands turn soft as they explore, and by the time Dean’s swallowing me down and I’m riding his fingers, I can barely remember my name.
All that matters is this… his touch, his caresses, the way he penetrates me, the way my moan is loud and needy and demanding “More!”
“You sure?”
His question draws my attention away from the sensation, so lost in the moment. “Fuck yes.”
Dean adds more lube and a third finger. It burns but in the best of ways. Should I tell him he’s the first? Tell him that fingers and a pretty impressive dildo are the closest I’ve got to the real thing. But fuck, I can’t wait until he’s buried inside me.
What if telling him makes him freak?
Fuck that.
