by R J Scott
“Good man. Now bring them over here.” He patted the mattress beside him, his lush mouth quirked up into a wicked smile.
“What are we going to do with them?” I wasn’t sure why I even cared. Right then, I couldn’t think of anything he could do with a berry that I’d protest him doing.
“Nothing that you won’t love.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now bring them over here and lie down with me.”
I crossed the room, kicked the knotted covers on the floor aside, and placed one knee then the other onto the mattress. The bottom sheet was all screwed up, baring the far corner of the mattress by Mads’ head. He took the container, ignoring the droplets of water falling onto the sheet and his stomach. I couldn’t ignore them, though. I bent down and lapped them off, enjoying the feel of his skin twitching as my tongue roamed over it.
“Hold that over your abs,” I told him, and he did. “Shake it.”
Water escaped through the air holes, dotting his abdomen. I threw an arm over his chest, then went to work, licking and chasing each drop of water. He made deep, heady noises as I cleaned him up. I’d almost worked my way to his cock when his fingers slid into my hair and pulled me gently upward.
“Once you get something in your mind…”
He flipped the container open and plucked out a fat berry. I tossed a leg over him and seated myself on his thighs. My gaze fell to his cock.
“Hey,” he called, and I glanced up at him. “My eyes are up here,” he teased, then fed me the berry. I chewed and swallowed.
“But your dick is here.” I ran the back of a finger over the velvety shaft. “And I’m much more interested in your dick than your eyes at the moment. Sorry. Totally shallow, I know.”
“Totally male.”
He chuckled before choosing another berry. This one he placed on his chest, taking time to lay it just so that it didn’t roll off his nipple. I liked this game already. I leaned over him, trapping that fat, hot cock of his between us, then lifted the strawberry from his skin with my tongue, making sure I got a nice lap of his tight little nipple as I did. He sighed roughly. Another berry came to rest on his other nipple. A smaller one. I grabbed that one with my teeth, chewed quickly, swallowed, then flicked his nipple with the tip of my tongue. My cock was slowly fattening up. Mads’ prick was like a branding iron pushed into my belly.
“Can you fuck me again?” I asked while mouthing his nipple.
“Patience,” he said.
He gave me a soft berry to focus on. It was super ripe. I smashed it against the roof of my mouth. He reached for me, pulled me down, and licked at my closed mouth, seeking entrance. I opened for him, shared the juice and the flesh, the sticky sweetness, then smeared it all over his lips and chin with my tongue. His hold on the back of my head grew firmer as we sucked on each other’s lips and tongues. Then he rolled me onto my back.
“Fuck, yeah,” I groaned, eager as hell to get him inside me. I brought up my legs, but he pushed them back down.
“Patience,” he said yet again, lowering himself over me, stealing a kiss as he pumped his cock against my ass.
“Fucker,” I growled playfully. “Tell a man to be patient, then you perpetrate that kind of tease?”
“You need to learn that it’s not always about shoving your dick into the first available orifice.” He ran rough palms up over my arms, pinning my hands by the headboard, all while trailing kisses along my jaw.
“It kind of is.” I arched up, crazy mad to get him buried inside me again. He held me down, licked and sucked, nibbled and gnawed on my throat and mouth until I thought I’d go insane. “Mads, come on! Fuck’s sake, I’m dying here.”
“Tennant, you already came once. You’ll be fine.”
Oh, right. I had blown a wad back in the kitchen. That was where the berries had come from. And Mads hadn’t come yet this morning. Dude must have a killer case of blue balls.
“Just enjoy the play.”
“Right, enjoy the play.”
I wiggled under him, hoping to entice him to penetrate me. I mean, his cock was resting right against my ass. One flick and he’d be inside me. He released my wrists and sat back, rolling his hips so that his prick now lay by the base of my cock. I looked down to see his cock resting on the dark curls, a sparkling drip of precum leaking from him.
“Mads, let me get to your dick,” I begged, but no, the shit grabbed the stupid berries and picked another ripe one from the container.
“You know what I’m going to do with this?”
“Make a fruit frappe?” I reached for his cock. He gently slapped my hand to the side.
“No, I’m going to do this with it.”
He smashed the fruit against my chest, smearing the pulp into the dark circlet of my left nipple. Then he sucked it clean. He suckled hard, pulling the little bud into his mouth, then grazing it with his sharp teeth. I yelped in pleasure, dug my heels into the bedding, and grasped at his bare back.
“Want me to do it to the other one?”
“Yes, yes, shit yes.” The words exploded out of me in brisk, short pants.
Mads took his time with the berry shit, crushing strawberry after strawberry against my flesh, first my chest, then my chin, then down to my navel, which he tongued madly.
“Ah, Christ, shit, damn, fucking hell I can’t… Ah, Mads, shit, man…”
“Yeah, you’re close,” he mumbled, his fingers working two stout berries into a fine paste. “I want you to hug your knees to your chest, okay?”
He didn’t have to ask twice. Our gazes met and held. “Are you going to lick that off my taint?”
“And a few other places. You’re going to come for me while I do it, and no dick will penetrate any ass.”
I groaned so long and so hard that Mads chuckled. The smile left his face when his fingers found my ass. He worked the berry paste into me in slow, sweet, torturous ways. One finger and then two, in and then out, up over my balls and then back down. His tongue dipped into me, swirled over and around my entrance. His prediction was right. I did come for him as he rimmed me, and all he had had to do was grab my dick and squeeze it hard one time.
“See,” he said as he settled close, the tops of his thighs resting against my ass cheeks, my knees still tight to my chest. “No dick in ass.”
He placed my hand on his cock and showed me how he liked to be worked. I stretched out my legs, hooking them over his shoulders. His gaze locked with mine and he came hard and fast, hot spunk coating my fingers, chest, and stomach. He was beautiful during his orgasm. I could fall in love with him so easily.
“Sweet Jesus,” he panted as I milked him. “You’re such a pretty man.”
He huffed as the afterglow of his release began to settle on his broad back. He dropped to one side, hands fisted on either side of my head, and kissed me sweetly, rolling his tongue over mine in slow, gentle strokes.
“I think I have berries stuck to my back,” I told him as he swung himself from the bed a short while later.
“Yeah, the bed is now a fruit salad,” he replied.
“Ha ha, funny man.”
I stretched like an old cat in a new sunbeam, fingers touching the headboard and toes tickling the footboard. I felt Mads’ eyes on me, so I rolled my hips a bit and got the appreciative groan I’d been hoping for.
“I’m going to wash up. Stay put—I’ll bring you a washcloth.”
“Cool.”
Off he went into the master bath. I rolled around for a bit, then jumped up. Yep, there were berries all over the place. On the floor, on the bed. Some had been smashed into the mattress where the sheet had been pulled off. Jared turned the water on in the bathroom. I found the container and started picking up the non-flattened berries from the floor and bedding. His doorbell rang.
“Mads, someone’s at the door. Want me to see who it is?” I shouted, and tossed the berry basket onto the dresser.
“Probably the paper boy. I keep cash on the side table by the front door
.” He peeked around the door, soapy washcloth pressed to his chest. “Pay the kid and come back so I can wash the big chunks off your backside.” He waggled a brow, then ducked back into the bathroom.
I found my jeans in record time and hauled them up over my ass. The bell ringing turned into banging.
“Shit, okay, keep your fucking cap on, kid,” I shouted as I jogged and zipped. I dug at a sticky berry that had gotten smashed between my shoulder blades with one hand as I ripped the front door open with my other. “What does he owe you for?”
“Tennant?” Brady asked in a squeaky kind of stunned voice.
Words slammed around inside my skull but none would come out.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“Ten, did you find the money on the side table?” Mads shouted, then walked out into the living room with a towel tied around his waist. His eyes flared in surprise, but his voice was cool and calm. “Brady.”
“You motherfucker,” Brady snarled.
He threw his overnighter to the floor and went after Mads like an incensed wolf. The two big defensemen collided like a couple of semis. Mads’ bare back slammed against the wall. The portrait of the Madsen family bounced off its nail and hit the floor, the frame breaking, which allowed the glass to fall out. I dove at the two of them, trying to break them up before any of the punches that my fucked-up brother was throwing landed. Too late, sadly. Brady got a clean right hook around Mads’ beefy forearms. The man would have a hell of a shiner tomorrow. I shoved and tugged at Brady, my arm finally snaking around his throat, the only thing that seemingly cut into his rage. Not being able to breathe will cool your ass down. I hung off him like a lemur, the sleeper hold Jamie had taught me all those years ago finally being executed properly.
“Get…off...me,” Brady gasped as we spun around in circles.
We knocked over an end table, broke a lamp, and upended the recliner, but I finally got him away from Mads. I released the sleeper and danced in front of my brother, putting a hand to his heaving chest.
“I will fucking kill you! What are you doing with my little brother?” Brady bellowed around me.
“Hey, asshole, it’s a consensual adult relationship.” I got both hands on his chest, fingers resting on his nice suit jacket, and shoved. Hard. He stumbled back a step or two, gawking at me as if he’d just really seen me for the first time. “I’m twenty-fucking-two years old!”
“And he’s the same age as me!” Brady shouted with a jerky wave at Mads.
“Brady, I know this wasn’t the best way for you to find out, but—” Mads tried to say.
“No! You do not get to talk about this, Mads.” Brady shook a finger at my lover. “You’re supposed to be a friend. Friends don’t fuck other friends’ baby brothers.”
“I’m not your baby brother anymore, Brady. Fuck’s sake, I’m a man!” I shouted as loudly as I could. Hopefully the whole city would hear how tired I was of being thought of as a child all the time by my brothers. “I’m a man who picks who he sleeps with. I picked Mads. Deal or leave, but there will be no more fists.”
The room was as still and silent as outer space. I stood between my older brother and Mads, arms dangling at my sides, muscles coiled in case I had to choke Brady down again. He reached up to rub at his throat.
“Since when are you gay?” Brady asked, his voice softer now, weak, thick with emotion and confusion.
“Since forever.” I glanced back at Mads standing his ground as his left eye watered.
“Jesus, Mom and Dad are going to flip when they find out,” my brother muttered.
“They already know. And they acted way better than you did.”
Brady could not have been more shocked if he’d been holding bare wires in his hands.
“Maybe I should leave you two alone to talk.” Mads slipped around us into the kitchen, probably to find some ice or a bag of frozen peas for that eye.
“You told Mom and Dad before me?” Brady seemed to be genuinely stunned and hurt.
“Well, duh.” That was my reply. Brady’s face screwed up with irritation. “I knew you and Jamie would be assholes when you found out. Well, you’d be an asshole. Jamie would probably just be Jamie.”
His shoulders caved in. “You’re gay. Shit, I never saw it.”
“That’s because you never looked. You were too busy trying to run my fucking life, tell me who to date and what team to play on, how to dress and what music to listen to. Did you ever just once stop trying to be the boss of the world and ask me how I felt about any of the decrees and judgments you passed down from on high?”
He rubbed absently at his throat, his eyes lackluster. “No, I guess I never did.”
“Then why the hell would I have told you? Mom and Dad were cool. Shit, the team is more accepting than you are.”
“The team knows?”
I shrugged. They had to know right? If the captain had figured it out, surely the rest of the team wouldn’t be far behind.
His hand fell from his throat. “They know about you and Mads?”
“No, not that, but they probably all know I’m gay.”
“Christ, you told strangers before you told your own brother?” He sat down hard. Good thing the sofa was behind him, or his ass would have dropped to the floor. “Does Jamie know?”
“I didn’t tell the team and no, I haven’t told Jamie yet. I was going to tell him when we played down in Florida next week.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
I had no answer for that one.
Brady blew out a long breath, and then buried his face in his hands. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
“Eventually, yeah, because I’d have to.” I walked over and picked up the broken picture before someone stepped on the square of glass.
“Christ. Do you hate me that much?”
I glanced over at him from where I was crouching. He’d dropped his hands. His dark eyes were dewy. Shit. Was he going to cry? I put a knee on the floor while hugging the busted frame that had held a nice shot of Mads and Ryker.
“It’s not that I hate you. I mean, you’re my brother… I love you. But you’re such an elitist prick all the time.”
His dark head snapped up at that comment.
“You are. You’ve done nothing but talk down to me about every fucking decision I’ve ever made.” I stood up and placed the broken picture on the end table. Then I righted the recliner.
“I was only trying to make sure you didn’t make stupid mistakes, Tennant.”
“Maybe I need to make those mistakes, Brady.” I sat down in the chair I’d just gotten back on its feet. “Maybe you need to let me make mistakes.”
“But why would you want to screw up your chances of being the next big name in hockey? You’ve got the talent. Way more than Jamie or I could ever hope to have. Why come to Harrisburg? Christ, why hook up with one of your coaches?” He scrubbed at his face with both hands, and then threw a look at me. “When the team finds out about you two, it’s going to be a mess. Why would you choose Mads, of all people?”
“I didn’t choose him, it just happened. Love just happens.”
Okay. Uh wow. Let’s put this buggy into reverse, Tennant. Love? Really? Shit. Yes. Love. All sorts of love.
“I love him.” That sounded funny—wobbly, and kind of shaky—but man did it feel right. “And if we go down in flames because of us, then we go down in flames. I’m willing to take that risk to be with him.”
Brady stared at me forever. “When did you grow up?”
I snorted at the comment. “I’m not sure I have yet, but I’m working on it. But see, I have to do it by myself. I have to make my life decisions. I have to fuck up and I have to figure out how to fix the fuck-ups. You or Jamie can’t do it for me. So back the fuck off and let me live my life. You live yours.”
“I’d say you’ve done a lot of growing up over the past few months,” he murmured, then glanced in the direction where Mads had gone. “Are you sure i
t has to be Mads?”
“Yep, I am totally positive it has to be Mads.”
“Right. And I need to apologize to him, yeah?”
“Oh hell yeah,” I said, then jerked my head in the direction of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go try to do that? I’ll clean up this mess.”
“You know I boss you around because I love you, right?”
“I know. You can’t help it that you’re an overbearing idiot. Eldest child and all that. Go talk to Mads.”
Brady gathered himself up, unknotted his tie, shoved it into the back pocket of his trousers, and walked into the kitchen to face Mads.
I fell back into the recliner, stared up at the ceiling, and tried to come to grips with the knowledge that I’d fallen insanely in love with Jared Madsen.
Eleven
Mads
I heard every single word, but then it was easy, because they were shouting so loud that people on the next street could probably hear them.
Love just happens. That was what Ten said to Brady. He said he loved me, that he was in love with me. The words were equal parts stunning and overwhelming. Because what happened when two people were in love with each other? That was more than just sex; it was hearts and flowers and promises.
God, I’m so fucking scared.
The shouting lessened and became more like serious conversation. I moved into the small laundry area I had and found some of my sweats, feeling less vulnerable than just being in a towel. I immediately turned to the coffee machine, pulling it apart bit by bit, because clearly it was vitally important that I clean it today. My face hurt where Brady had gotten in the punch of a freaking lifetime. I didn’t think he’d broken anything, but I had to dig deep into my hockey reserves to ignore the pain. There was no way I was standing in the kitchen with an ice pack on my face; I was not giving Brady the satisfaction.