The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning #1) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Atlanta Lightning Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
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I told myself I wasn’t going to do it, but I knew it was a lie. It didn’t matter how selfish it was to want more, to ask Anson for more. The second I pulled up at the airport, I said, “Stay.”

He whipped around and looked at me. “What?” It was the first time Anson had spoken the whole drive.

“Stay. We haven’t fucked yet. Plus, I didn’t get to worship your body nearly enough. You can at least stay another couple of days. You deserve more than one day, Bashful.”

His gaze darted away. “I can’t.”

“I want more of you.”

“I want more of you too.”

“Then stay.” An unfamiliar, frenzied need tingled beneath my skin. “It’s your bye week. You said yourself it’s like a vacation. Take it. I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock again.” I reached out and cupped his face, but he pulled back. “Shit. Sorry.” The car was against the curb at the airport. What had I been thinking? “Anson, I—”

“Yes,” he cut me off.

“Really?” I hadn’t expected him to agree. “I mean, obviously. Who wouldn’t want to stay with me?”

Anson laughed. “Shut up and get us the hell out of here. I really want to suck your dick again. This time I want to get on my knees for you.”

I grinned. “Gorgeous, you can get on your knees for me anytime you want.”

I drove back home, and the second we got inside, he did exactly that. I called and canceled my meetings for the day, saying I was going to work from home.

I had to go in the next day for a few hours, and Anson stayed at my place. No one had ever stayed at my house without me before, but it felt right to have him there. We still didn’t fuck. I wasn’t sure what held me back from asking for his ass or giving him mine, but he got really fucking great at giving head, and I swallowed more of his come than I could quantify. We ate meals together, laughed together, teased each other, and played more catch.

He stayed for four days—until I had to go to DC—and then he got on a plane back to Atlanta. I messaged him when I landed.

Me: How was your flight?

Bashful: Good…yours?

Me: Good.

I waited, wondering when he was going to tell me we had to stop talking. I expected it. We’d done what we’d said we were going to do. Except for penetrative sex.

Bashful: What’s your favorite RHCP song?

I smiled. Christ, this guy wrecked me. I didn’t fucking get it.

Me: That’s tough. I love “Dosed”…and “I Could Have Lied” is great. You?

And that’s what we did for the rest of the night—texted back and forth about random shit that didn’t matter but felt like it did.

Chapter Twenty-One

Anson

Every day I told myself that was the day I was going to tell West we couldn’t talk anymore, but I never did. Sometimes I decided that instead of telling him, I just wouldn’t message first, and I’d ignore him when he did, but I didn’t do that either.

I’d had to make up some ridiculous story for Mom, Elias, and Darren about where I’d been during my bye week. Mom asked if I’d met a woman, and I didn’t discourage that line of thinking, even though it made me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. I’d told her it wasn’t a big deal and let it go at that. Technically, the no-big-deal part wasn’t a lie. What West and I were doing…or had done, wasn’t serious. And yet…sometimes when I thought back on it, when we talked or he made me laugh at night when I was in bed, thinking about my days at his house, I acknowledged that was a lie, at least on my part. It was a huge deal. The biggest. Outside of football and how much I loved my family, what I’d shared with West was the most real thing in my life. And then I tucked that truth away with so many other parts of myself.

We had only been texting or sharing short phone calls since I got back to Georgia. I wasn’t sure if I could handle video chatting. Seeing him was a different story, and I knew I needed to tell him there was no reason to keep talking, that it would be too hard to just be friends with him.

We had a home game on Thanksgiving, which we won. Mom and Elias were there and had watched from the family box, and I knew they would wait for me until I was done with the interviews after the game.

Darren and I left the locker room together and found them chatting with Mia, all three wearing their security passes.

Fuck. I knew this wouldn’t be good. “Hey, Mama.” I kissed her cheek. “Hey, Buttface,” I teased my brother.


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