Rules, Schmules! (Fast Break Book 1), page 9
“So why not?” Ryan Broadwater is a gorgeous and talented player in the League. It’s his Australian accent that gives me a boner, though. That he’s straight doesn’t come into it. In this weird discussion that we started about twenty minutes ago—majorly drifting off topic—every hot basketball player is fair game, regardless of sexuality.
“Other than the fact when I'm pro I'm playing it straight?”
That he’s put a serious edge to this “who would you fuck” conversation takes me by surprise. My gut clenches, hating the reality of his situation. It was so easy to get caught up in the banter and start relaxing around Kieran that for a moment there, I allowed myself to forget he’s made himself off limits.
Not liking the direction of this conversation, I ask, “Your bros need your attention?” I eye the phone he's focused on from his position on the floor.
“Bros?” His snicker is ridiculously sexy.
“Yup.”
“Well, my bros are feeling abandoned with all this studying I'm doing.”
Ignoring the disappointment flaring to life in my chest, I close my laptop. “Okay, you want to arrange another meet, or do you think we can just text?”
Question fills his gaze. “I'm not going just yet.”
“You're not?”
“You bored of my company already?”
Is he… flirting?
Fuck me, but if he is, that’s impossible to ignore.
“Well, bored is such a relative term.”
His snort is loud, and my grin is immediate.
“If you've got plans, though, I can go.”
I shake my head, the movement a little too fast for me to be playing it cool. “No plans.” I need to take control of this, so add, “Other than acing this assignment.”
The grin he shoots at me is sweet and has my pulse picking up speed.
“How about we head out for ice cream? There's a great place in town.” I ignore how the offer sounds a little date-like. “A bit of sugar pick-me-up,” I clarify.
In a blink, he's standing. “I know the place. What’s your poison?”
“I could do with a rocky road right about now.” I stand and head to the hallway, fighting back the happy smile trying to break free.
“You have a weakness for marshmallows?”
“Marshmallows are cool.”
Marshmallows are cool? What the ever-loving fuck!
I keep on walking, swiping my phone and keys, and pointedly ignore his chuckle.
We decide to walk to the gelato place. It's only a short distance away, and the stretch and bite of the autumn late afternoon feels good.
“You have siblings?” I ask, curious about Kieran the more I get to know him.
“Nope. Only child. Begged my parents for years for a sibling. They weren't swayed by my arguments. Is it just you and your brother?”
“Yeah. Unlike you, I wasn’t too pleased by a new baby.” I chuckle at the memory. “Had a full-on meltdown when my mom brought him home. I once hid him in a drawer.” I cast a glance Kieran's way. He's wide-eyed and staring at me in horror. “Don't worry, I felt guilty after a minute and rescued him. After that, it always seemed like the two of us against the world.”
Surprise that I'm sharing this with him has me catching my breath.
I don't know whether he can pick up the tension pulsing through me or not, but when he says, “Are you feeling more settled now, at college I mean?” I exhale.
We've already briefly chatted about my move. Not the reason why—beyond wanting to be close to Zeke. Seriously, who wants to get into how broke my family and I are? “It's getting easier.” Which it is, and knowing that and believing it is one heck of a relief.
While not much has changed in the grand scheme of things, I've sort of settled into a routine. Classes are going well, and my job helps with gas and going out, as well as helping my mom a little with groceries.
“That's great.”
We reach the gelato place, and I all but falter when Kieran swings the door open and indicates for me to go ahead. I do so, trying to ignore the flip of my heart. This guy is not making it easy for me to not crush on him.
And I have no idea what to do with that.
Keeping my attention ahead, I focus on the ice cream selection. While I know exactly what I'm going to order, if I don't have anything to concentrate on, I’m worried my eyes are going to be glued to Kieran's ass or his lips that I know taste so damn sweet.
“Hey, Marco.”
Marco greets me with a friendly smile. “Hey, Dean. I was beginning to worry about your sugar levels. It's been, what… five days since I last saw you?”
I snort. “I'm not that bad.” I totally am. But for real, this ice cream is to die for. It’s a popular place, even with the cooler days and evenings, so I’m not the only one who thinks so.
The presence at my side makes me start, my breath catching in my throat when heat presses against me. Wide-eyed, I peer up at Kieran, who's practically glued to my arm. My reaction must get his attention, as he gazes down at me with a look in his eyes that makes my heart once again bounce around in my rib cage.
“My treat. What would you like?”
Before I can answer, Marco says, “Rocky road with a double hit of chocolate sauce and extra marshmallows.”
Just as I'm about to glance away and give Marco shit and wind him up by making a fake order, I pause. Kieran's jaw’s clenched, his gaze narrowed, and he looks seriously pissed off by the interruption.
Well, this is new.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, angling a little, his face precariously close to mine. “Or is it time for something a little different?”
And holy shit, his voice is low, gravelly, and screams of the shared intimacy from the party.
“I'm going for the salted caramel with added whipped cream.” When his gaze drifts to my mouth, it’s impossible not to react. My tongue flicks out, wetting my bottom lip, and all I focus on is the mention of salt and cream. Is he thinking about the taste of my cum?
“Okay.” My voice is a squeak, and I don't even give a shit, not when all of Kieran's attention is on me. But when the fucker's expression morphs into a satisfied smugness and he flicks his attention to Marco, I finally realize what he’s doing.
He’s attempting a dick measuring contest with Marco.
If I’m right, what the fuck? Right along with, why is that so hot?
Either way, a wave of satisfaction rushes through me, alongside with the desire to flip him off and cackle at how wrong he’s read mine and Marco’s exchange.
Coming back to my senses, I turn my attention to Marco. Amusement fills his features. Admittedly, Marco is cute. He's a few years older than me. This is also his family's store. Want to know what else I know about Marco? He's happily in love with Julian and is looking at proposing soon. That’s something I learned after only living here for two weeks.
While the guy is a little flirty, it's only with the regulars, which I'm definitely one of. And I know he’s devoted to his boyfriend.
I aim for a sultry smile at Marco, and I can read him well enough to see understanding register. There's a slight twitch of his lips before he winks and leans forward, forearms on the counter and hands clasped.
“That what you want to try, Dean?” He quirks his brow. “If I knew you wanted to explore, I could have arranged that for you.”
The urge to snort hits me. “Ooh, like a private tasting or something? You guys do that?”
Kieran shifts at my side, but I don't give in and glance his way.
“A private tasting? For you?” He bounces his brows. “You know I would absolutely make that happen.”
“How about we just get our two caramels and cream to go instead?” Kieran interrupts. His tone is absolutely unimpressed.
“Sure.” He takes Kieran in and I’m sure is stockpiling questions to throw at me the next time I’m alone. “I'll get right to that.” Marco winks again, and I stay put, smirk, and allow Kieran to pay. Something that would usually make me grouchy, as I have real issues with making sure I pay my way. But Kieran is being far too much fun for me to deny him.
Perhaps I should be putting the guy in his place.
You're wondering why I'm not, huh?
Okay, so you're totally not, because Kieran is beyond sexy, especially like this. And honestly, at this point, I'm entertained and curious about his reaction and intentions.
The sensible part of my brain, one that really wants to protect my foolish, interested heart, knows I should run a mile.
But do I?
Please tell me you're laughing with me and not at me for being a fool. We all know I have no intention of running. Screw that.
The guy can give head like he's been training for the Olympics. You know… if there was a sport for giving head.
Plus he's hot, as in, I'd even consider bending over for him. That's something I've done once, hated, and never planned to do again. But heck if he couldn’t make me consider giving it up.
In my defense, all of this is making my brain malfunction. The excuse is real and I'm sticking with it, so hush.
It’s the reason I shoot Marco a smile before we step out of the store, while he gives me an exaggerated wink. I chuckle, saying, “Don't forget the offer’s still there if you need help shopping. Not sure you should be trusted by yourself.”
“You just enjoy my company, Dean. No need to make excuses.”
Kieran bristles beside me, making this so easy.
“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that. I just know your taste in clothes doesn't fill me with confidence when it comes to engagement ring shopping.” I side-eye Kieran. He's absolutely paying attention.
“Hey, I'm not that bad.”
Marco really is that bad.
“Uh-huh. Not sure Julian would agree with that assessment.” I snicker and wave at him before finally stepping outside. I lick at the cream, going in for a second suck to get some of the caramel in. When it's just Kieran and me, I glance up, and we lock gazes. He’s staring at me, and I wipe my chin. Of course my expression is super smug, and I like to think the pink in Kieran's cheeks and his slightly scrunched-up face means he knows I'm totally onto him.
But it's best to be clear, right?
“You know those rules you have?”
We stop walking, and with the slight tensing of his muscles, I'm sure he's paying complete attention.
“Yes?”
Somehow I hold back my loud chuckle at that uneasy question.
“I'm not quite sure you're as committed as you're claiming to be.”
Wide eyes peer back at me. With a slack jaw, it’s obvious he's fumbling at being called out.
“Bending the rules can be fun, Kieran, and since you're well on the way to having to rewrite them anyway, it's only right I offer my services.”
Bravado. That's exactly what this is. If he could hear the loud pounding of my heart and knew just how clammy my hands are, there's no way he'd buy what I'm selling.
Hell, perhaps I'm a better actor than I thought.
I focus on the pavement and heading home, putting one foot in front of the other, and aiming for casual rather than it looking like I’m speed walking. It’s difficult to eat my ice cream, despite how delicious it is. The house should be empty for a while longer, and the thickening of my dick makes it clear he has plans.
Screw being sensible. Plus… I did give myself permission for a no-strings fuck.
And from how quickly Kieran catches up with me, I have a feeling he’s on board with my offer to see how far we can push those rules of his.
CHAPTER 8
RULE 3 SECTION B: NO CRUSHING ON BRIXHAM U GUYS
KIERAN
That this is a bad idea is an understatement. But I neither have the inclination or the willpower to stop it. With the tension thrumming between us, each breath a spark of promise, one thing is clear: Dean Whittaker is in complete control, and I’m powerless to stop him.
That I easily have forty pounds on him means nothing. Stepping away and leaving is not an option. Is it the challenge that he’s thrown my way that’s the draw card? I’d be lying if I said my competitive spirit isn’t intrigued, but surely that would mean I should be proving him wrong and making clear that my rules are firm and inflexible, right?
Obviously I’m full of something, when all I really want to be is full of him.
Just the thought has my already fast-paced heartbeat picking up speed. Not only that, but my asshole is legit clenching, and my dick is chubbing up in a way that’s completely inappropriate considering we still have a few more minutes until we arrive at his house.
The air is thick between us, and the need to speak and cut through some of it is on the tip of my tongue. The problem is, I can’t get words out. Not only that, what the hell do I even say?
That I’ve never been in this situation before both terrifies and electrifies me. Both emotions are nothing to do with me bending or breaking any of my rules either. Hell no. What’s got me sporting a boner and making me so tongue-tied I’m worried about my ability to control myself is the realization that Dean is likely to be the one guy who’s not eager to be fucked by a basketball player. Nope. Instead, I’m sure he’s absolutely willing to take control and give me everything I’ve been missing out on.
Just the thought has a grunt escaping. While it’s quiet, it’s enough to capture Dean’s attention. He angles to look at me, his gaze searching, his cheeks flushed, and that pink tongue of his that darted out earlier when we were in the gelato place peeks out again.
Imagining what he could do to me with that tongue has my eyes widening, earning me a nostril flare and Dean looking like he’s going to start trying out for competitive speed walking.
His reaction is enough to have me smirking, and some of the tension in my shoulders eases. He wants this as badly as I do.
Should I be playing hard to get?
Yeah, I just snorted too. I’ve reached the point of “fuck it.” I might have only known Dean for a short while, but I’m sure he’s not the kind of guy who’d out me. He’ll be discreet, I’m sure of it.
Plus, he’s feisty and bossy as fuck, and I like that a whole lot.
“Thank fuck.”
I snort at his words as he pulls his keys out of his pocket and wrangles the door open. His hands shake, and I suspect it’s nothing to do with nerves. Does Dean even get nervous? I can’t see it.
Once the door is open, he steps inside and doesn’t look back. I follow him in, and then he’s on me before the door has time to click shut. My back being pushed against the door, though, gives us the privacy we need for me to welcome his tongue and grip his ass.
When his tongue swipes mine, I groan. He’s straining to reach me, though that doesn’t negate how he’s controlling the kiss. I gasp for breath, and he eases away, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.
“That was the longest walk ever.” He comes back at me, lips pressing against mine, not giving me time to respond. Amused and turned the fuck on, I kiss him back, seeking his tongue, seeking the heat.
And then the tease is pulling away again.
I sigh and angle back, pressing my head against the door. His chuckle grabs my attention, and I narrow my gaze at him. The smile he sends my way has my heart picking up speed.
“I have a double bed.” A quirked brow joins his words.
I should be shutting this down. I’m not sure if there’s uncertainty or indecision in my expression, but he leans into me, neck angled to scan my face.
“Hooking up is fun, and this…” He reaches for my cock and squeezes. A shudder ripples through me. “…this I can do something about.”
“No strings?” I grunt out the words, feeling a bit of a dick for putting them out there, but I’m already ignoring my steadfast rules, and this is my attempt at keeping some control.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
My grin is instant, and his is seductive, and then we’re racing up the stairs, me almost tripping, too focused on his ass. In his room, I spot the bed, and that’s all the investigation needed.
There’s no second-guessing or struggle when he backs me up so I can ease down on my back. Dean straddles me, his ass finding purchase against my jeans-clad cock.
“Fuck, I’m hard.” I thrust to show him.
“Yes, you are.” He grinds against me, and I grunt, tugging him down and ravaging his mouth. Our kisses are hard, almost feral in the messy heat, but I don’t want to stop, don’t want to calm the peaking desire swirling through me.
Dean’s hand on my junk, though, that’ll do it. I grunt into his mouth, and he grins.
“You want me to suck you off?”
“Is Eddie Phelps the highest-ranking forward in history?”
Dean laughs, the sound easing into my chest. Christ, it’s good to smile and laugh with a guy, have some sort of connection and not a faceless hookup in a bathroom stall.
“I’m about to blow you, and you’re thinking of basketball?” As he speaks, he’s making quick work of my jeans. I lift up as he tugs them down.
“It’s the only thing to keep me from coming as soon as your tongue touches my cock.” I’m only half joking, but it doesn’t hurt to lay on a little flattery, right?
Quirking his brow at me, Dean peruses my dick, which twitches in response. My junk has no issues with being admired. “You know, I think I need you naked.”
Much to Dean’s amusement, I sit bolt upright, kiss him hard, and then pick him up and set him down beside me. Less than fifteen seconds later, I’m naked, stretched out, and grinning at a highly amused Dean.
“Should I worry about the speed?” he sasses, shifting back to me, still fully dressed with the exception of his shoes. I perhaps should care that he’s still covered, but it’s all levels of hot.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I know I have more than one in me.” I smirk, totally telling the truth. It’s been far too long since I received head, and this is the first time ever with someone I know.
“That I can work with.”
Dean trails soft wet kisses over my chest and along my abs. A sound of approval tears from me when he licks my six-pack. “You’re so fucking hot.” He nips at my skin and soothes it with licks before trailing down further.
