Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Nodding, I forced my attention to the screen above me but saw nothing, heard nothing aside from a clock ticking in my head as he walked away.
One minute, two, the tick of seconds kept the beat to the wild tempo of my pulse as heat coursed through my body.
He couldn’t have meant what I thought. What you want.
I shook the voice from my head. I didn’t want shit besides a painkiller and maybe a nap. Possibly a job.
It was the perfect time to leave. I could be gone before he came back.
And yet, another handful of seconds later, dick already hardening behind my fly, I finished off my vodka tonic and stood, grabbing my pack and heading to the restroom. It was as swanky as the rest of the lounge, a thick art deco mirror gilding black subway tile, dark wood accents, a trough sink where a man stood washing his hands.
Three empty urinals.
One closed bathroom door.
I upnodded the stranger as we brushed past each other, then stopped outside the closed door, waiting until he was gone, an uncanny sense of dislocation pervading me, as if I was somehow both here and back outside Cullen’s old dorm room. What the fuck did people do in these situations? Knock? Barge in? What if I’d misread the cue and Cullen was actually using the facilities. Christ, I’d relive that embarrassment for years.
“Cullen.” The unused sound of his name was gritty on my tongue but not tentative, thank fuck. We were never that.
The door swung open, and I waited for some comment on how long it took me, the way he used to do when I’d sneak into his room after games. He’d always been an impatient bastard. I wasn’t sure that had changed since college. But Cullen said nothing as I shut the door behind me and let my pack drop to the floor, just watched me.
It was a close fit. Two wide receivers in an airport club bathroom? That probably wasn’t something that happened every day.
“There’s a joke in here somewhere.” He quirked a smile, reading my thoughts, though I was pretty sure the joke was me. “What do you call two wide receivers in an airport bathroom?”
“Bad idea?” I suggested wryly.
He hitched one shoulder. “I’m not exactly known for my good ones.”
A single step put him before me, his fingers sinking just behind the waistband of my jeans and anchoring as electricity zipped from my groin to the crown of my head.
I turned my head away just before his mouth met mine, and he chuckled softly.
“That’s how it’s gonna be, then?”
“Yeah.” I arched my hips as he lowered my zipper and freed my cock. Then I did the same to him. The man had a beautiful cock, I’d credit him that. The first one I’d ever touched, first one I’d ever tasted, and even back then, I’d known he’d be an instant addiction.
“Alright, Pretty Woman.” The tease came murmured against my neck, and I hated how aroused the simple caress of his lips over my skin got to me.
But maybe his lips would’ve been the better option than the fierce lock of our eyes as he leaned back, wrapping his fist in an unforgiving grip around our shafts, and began stroking. He kept the pace slow, the minute roll of his hips ensuring I felt every millimeter of contact—the head of his cock brushing the underside of mine, caressing the little notch that’d always driven me crazy. He remembered, I was sure of it now, and I finally broke the stare down to let my head fall back against the door, teeth pinning my lower lip as I sank into the bliss of each stroke. Yeah, this was easily the worst idea I’d subjected myself to in the last five years. Too bad it felt so damn good.
Watching his hands on me, how his jaw slackened with every thrust, had me on edge quicker than I wanted. Just before I lost it, I caught him by the shoulder and spun him left to face the wall. Cullen didn’t resist, just braced his hands on the dark tile, a soft groan leaving his lips as I yanked his pants down his thighs and glided my spit-slick cock between his crease.
“Want this?”
“What do you think?” he gritted out, grinding his ass against me as his fingers curled on the wall. “Sure as fuck didn’t come in here to discuss stats.”
The safe topics. Smart-ass.
I wet a finger, slid it between us, and circled his rim before pushing it inside. Cullen clenched around me as my knuckles brushed over his heavy sac. We were well beyond safe topics of conversation now. Well beyond conversation at all.
When I sank a second finger inside him, he dropped a hand from the wall, and I felt the telltale pull of his skin around me as he jerked himself. “You got anything on you?” His voice was husky, riding the same edge as me. We used to go for hours. That wasn’t gonna be the case today.