Taylor’s grin is wide and bright, and Noah’s chest hitches with happiness.
* * *
Taylor easily rises from the couch with a sleeping Emma. Emma snuffles quietly, but remains asleep.
The evening has been a leisurely affair. Noah played with Emma while Taylor cooked an easy meal of spaghetti and meatballs along with salad and garlic bread. They shared a bottle Chianti.
He lays her in her crib, clicks on the baby monitor, and pulls the door shut behind him. He grabs a water from the fridge. “You want something?” he calls to Noah.
“Just you,” he says, and Taylor’s heart flips. Noah doesn’t mean it as in getting down and dirty between the sheets. That’s been the biggest adjustment for Taylor—remembering that Noah’s not a sexual person like he himself. The intimate moments they’ve had have been awesome, but it’s always Taylor who instigates things, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. A little uncomfortable, maybe. He sometimes feels like he’s pressuring Noah. He might have to do some research on the Internet about asexuality.
Noah shifts on the sofa as Taylor rounds the corner and pats the cushion. Noah likes the romantic stuff though, the cuddling and the holding hands. Taylor does too, so that’s worked out at least. In all his other relationships, it’s mostly been a means to an end though. With Noah, it’s an activity in and of itself. Noah doesn’t seem to need more. Taylor enjoys it, he does, but he has to rein himself in all the time. It’s a process, Taylor reminds himself. Things will progress. They’ll talk. They’ll work it out. Taylor curls into Noah, resting his head on Noah’s chest. The thump of Noah’s heart beats steady beneath his ear.
“Hey, did you see S’more’s email about his end-of-season barbecue yet? It’s this Saturday.”
“No,” says Noah. “Haven’t looked at email today. You going?”
Taylor has a crazy idea. “Are you?” he asks.
Noah traces lazy patterns on Taylor’s back, raising goosebumps. He loves this. He’s missed intimacy a lot. And to finally have it, and with Noah, is more than he expected, despite the lack of sex. He sighs mostly in contentment.
“Probably,” says Noah. “I want to take Emma and introduce her to the team and the rest of the WAGs.”
Taylor lifts his head to look at Noah. “Let’s go together together.”
One of Noah’s eyebrows arches. “Really? As a couple?”
“As a couple.” Taylor’s tired of showing up to team events alone. Tired of being razzed about not having a girlfriend. The other guys attend with their wives and girlfriends, and he misses having someone to share the moments of his life with. Just being at the same gathering with Noah wouldn’t be like going with Noah. Noah’s fingers run along the edge of Taylor’s waistband, trace just beneath it, and if he could, Taylor’d be purring right now. “Would you feel comfortable with doing that?”
“What’s the worst that could happen? A couple of guys make some comments? So what? We have a chat with the coaches, with the team. And we move on before next season.”
“I don’t know that combating homophobia is going to be that simple,” says Taylor. He’s dealt with it more than once in his life. Uncle Bud had warned him. Some people are small-time bullies and back off if you raise your hackles at them. Some people are self-righteous pricks and forget that Jesus told everyone to love one another.
“You’re the one who wants to out us.”
Does Taylor want to chance flooding the little island of happiness they’ve created with negativity? “Maybe it’s not such a good idea then. Not yet.”
“I’m not trying to talk you out of it, Taylor,” says Noah. “You’re an alternate captain, you know all the guys pretty well. You think the team’s ready for that?” Noah asks.
Taylor considers it. Thinks of each of their teammates. “Honestly, I never hear any sort of homophobic comments from the guys. We’ve gone to bars and clubs where dudes were dancing together and gettin’ it on, on the dance floor or in dark corners. No one seemed to bat an eyelash. I mean, maybe they were behaving because we were out in public, and that’s cool. But you’d think there’d have been some kind of muttered insults from someone if it’d really bothered them.”
“True.” Noah nods and scratches at Taylor’s scalp. Chills roll down his back.
“Management knows I’m bi and they never told me not to date another man.”
Noah chuckles. “I don’t think they expected you to want to date a teammate.”
“Probably not, but they didn’t explicitly forbid it either. Maybe knowing we’re together would make acceptance easier for anyone on the fence about us. I mean, if they know we’ve only got eyes for each other, then they won’t be paranoid about us—me, I mean—checking out their dicks or whatever.”
“Are you done talking yourself into this?” Noah kisses his way down Taylor’s neck and collarbone. “I don’t want us to hide from the people we’re closest to. I want to hold your hand, or touch you in passing, or steal a kiss when the urge strikes.”
Taylor pulls back to sit up and almost falls off the couch, arms and legs flailing as he regains his balance. “What about you? You have as much to lose here as I do. If you don’t want to do this, say the word.”
“Thanks for asking, but I’m not worried about what anyone’s going to say. I’m fine with coming out to the team.” Noah tugs Taylor back down and rubs his nose along Taylor’s forehead. “I’m cool with it if S’more is. It’s his house, his party. I’ll call him tomorrow.”
Taylor scoots up and instigates a deep kiss; it’s slow and sweet, and Taylor forces himself to stay relaxed. Their relationship is a journey, and they don’t have to end up in bed. It’s hard, though, because Noah is a beautiful man, and Taylor hasn’t gotten nearly enough of him yet. Low-level desire has become his default setting, and that’s not Noah’s problem, it’s Taylor’s.
But even if sex is not the end game, he can still touch Noah and hopefully make Noah feel good. Taylor slides his hand under Noah’s shirt. Noah’s skin quivers beneath Taylor’s fingers. Taylor caresses his arms, slides his hands across Noah’s pecs, down over his abs. Noah “mmm”s into Taylor’s mouth and Taylor smiles.
“I love touching you,” he says. “I love that I can.” He twiddles one of Noah’s nipples; it pebbles and Noah catches his breath.
“I like you touching me too… Can I touch you?” Noah’s words go soft and breathless, and Taylor peers at him.
Taylor’s dick twitches. “You touched me last night,” he says with a soft laugh. “And you never have to ask me. I’m easy that way.”
“I. Okay. But. I want to…” Noah eyes close and color rises above his beard. “…blow you.”
Taylor’s instantly hard, and his heart is trying to jackhammer its way out of his chest. Just when he thought Noah would never make a move, then this. “Fuck, yeah. I’d like that.”
“I want to, but I…don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll teach you. C’mon, let’s go in the bedroom.” Taylor untangles himself from Noah and holds out his hand. “It’ll be much more comfortable and much easier on the both of us.”
When they reach Noah’s room, Taylor says, “I’m going to get completely naked.” He turns on the bedside table lamps to the lowest light setting, thankful there’s even a low setting to be had. He doesn’t want to experience this in the dark, but he doesn’t want to be blinded by high wattage either. “You can be however you feel most comfortable.” His clothes land in the corner within moments.
“I’m not afraid of being naked, you know.”
They’ve never done anything requiring clothes to actually be off, so Taylor didn’t know, but—fuck, yeah—he finally gets to see Noah naked in a place he can look his fill. Taylor lies on his back in the middle of Noah’s king sized bed, erection straining toward his navel, a bit of fluid leaking from the tip. He strokes himself once to ease the itch of anticipation. Noah takes to his knees next to Taylor’s hip, and his dick is just hanging there between his thi
ghs. It’s a nice-looking dick as dicks go, not too thick, not too long or short, and Taylor can’t wait to see it in all its aroused glory. But that’s not why they’re here, and it might not happen this time, and that’s okay. That’s okay. He hopes they’re in this for the long haul and there’s no rush.
Noah’s gaze is trusting, though the blush has spread across his shoulders and down his chest. He’s gorgeous and worthy of admiration, but back to the task at hand. Taylor’s never been someone’s first, and he’s not sure what to do with that, except take what Noah can give and be understanding about what he can’t.
“Listen, if it gets to be too much or you don’t like it, you can stop, okay?” God, Taylor hopes Noah doesn’t stop. He wasn’t expecting this so soon, but now that it’s happening, he wants it so, so much.
Noah’s hands slide up and down his lightly furred thighs. “Okay. What should I do?”
Taylor’s stomach is fluttering a little and he chuckles. Noah frowns.
“No, no…. God, I’m sorry. I’m laughing because I’m nervous all of a sudden, and I don’t know why.” Taylor tugs on Noah’s arm. “C’mere. Kiss me first.”
Noah stretches out alongside him. They’re skin-to-skin, and Taylor’s imagined Noah’s body against his own without any clothes between them every freakin’ night, but the reality is much, much better. Noah’s skin is smooth and unblemished. Miles of pale, soft skin stretched taut over thick sculpted muscles. There not an ounce of fat anywhere on Noah’s body, and he’s built like a tree. Taylor likes. He likes a lot. Taylor caresses Noah some more as they kiss. Arms, shoulders, back, that fine ass. The kisses are deeper than they were before, and Taylor’s nerves ease. He’s a sexual guy; he knows what to do in the moment. And Noah seems to know himself well enough to say something if he’s not comfortable.
“Now what?” asks Noah.
“Um.” Taylor clears his throat. “Maybe kiss your way down my chest and stomach, if you want. Explore, nuzzle, touch, whatever. When you reach my dick, take hold of the base and take the head in your mouth. Um, lick, suck, bob, twist, whatever. Try to avoid teeth, but otherwise, whatever you want to do will be fine. You’ll know what gets me by how I react.”
Noah kisses his chin, traces circles on his neck with his tongue, nips lightly at Taylor’s Adam’s apple. Taylor’s whole body hums in delight.
“That’s great, Noah. Yeah, I like all that.” Taylor keeps running his hands along Noah’s flesh, wherever he can reach. Noah’s got no ink, unlike most of the rest of the team, and his skin is not-quite-pale, since they don’t get much sun during a season. Not only is his skin soft, but his body hair is too. Like he conditions his whole body, Taylor likes it a lot. “Noah?” he asks, a bit breathless. God, this is sooo fuckin’ fantastic.
“Hm?” Noah says, nosing at Taylor’s nipples. He licks one and Taylor sucks in a breath. “Should I stop?”
“Fuck, no. I just…just…”
After licking the other nipple, Noah rubs his face along and nips at Taylor’s stomach. Traces the definition of Taylor’s abs with his tongue. Thank God he’s not ticklish.
“It’s been a long time since anyone did this for me, so I doubt I’ll—”
Noah nuzzles the crease of Taylor’s groin, licks the length of Taylor’s dick.
Taylor’s hips jerk in response. “Fuck.” Sparks zing from his balls outward in all directions. “ —last long.”
Noah “hmm”s and his warm breath ghosts over Tayler’s erection, making him squirm.
“I’ll let you know when I’m gonna come so you can pull off if necessary.”
“Can I do this now?” Noah asks, and Taylor hears the amusement in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah…”
Noah’s large hand closes around Taylor’s dick and Taylor arches into his hold. Noah’s hands are warm, and his fingertips have a bit of roughness to them that sends tingles up Taylor’s spine. Noah kisses the edge of his right oblique, and then moist heat closes around his little head and he groans low. Fucking Christ. He fists the bedspread and hangs on.
Taylor watches down his body as Noah’s head bobs up and down over his groin. Watching and feeling at the same time is amazing and erotic, and Noah tilts his head and meets Taylor’s gaze. His eyes are dark, and his lips are plump around Taylor’s dick, and fucking hell if that’s not the hottest thing Taylor’s seen in forever. His balls pull up and his dick gets even harder.
Noah pulls back, circles the head with his tongue, dips his tongue into the slit. Electricity zings through Taylor’s body. He pants, trying to pull back from the precipice, but he really, really wants to come. “Noah, slow down. I’m gonna come soon.” Taylor pushes at Noah’s shoulder and Noah pulls off. “Just stroke me now if you want, or I can finish myself.”
With a shake of his head, Noah grasps Taylor again. “I want to make you come.” Taylor’s panting and cursing again in no time and growls deep in his throat as he comes, warm splatters hitting his stomach. Taylor drops his head to the bed to enjoy the flood of warmth throughout his body. Noah’s strokes slow and then stop. When Taylor lifts his head again, he smiles at the sight of Noah staring at his jizz-slick fingers. His eyes are wide when he meets Taylor’s gaze. His neck and chest are flushed, and he looks delightfully debauched even though he was on the giving end of this little endeavor.
“Was it all right?” Noah asks.
Taylor’s chest heaves as he works to catch his breath. “Fan-fucking-tastic. Now get my tee shirt and wipe your hand off and come over here. I want you close.”
Noah’s usually the big spoon because he’s six inches taller than Taylor, but Noah deserves to be the one cuddled after that spectacular first blowjob. Taylor wraps himself around Noah and breathes in his scent. It’s just warm, earthy Noah and a lingering aroma of sex. Noah’s neck is soft beneath Taylor’s lips, and Taylor relaxes, warm and sated.
“Thank you…” he murmurs. “Is there something I can do for you, Noah? Just name it.”
Noah twines their fingers together against his stomach and settles into Taylor’s arms. “This, Taylor. Just this.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Taylor asks for the umpteenth time as he and Noah approach S’more’s front door.
Noah rolls his eyes again. He’s not worried about what anyone’s going to say to him because, more than likely, they’ll be wrong.
S’more’s house is a large brick thing with a curved driveway and a landscaped yard in a gated neighborhood. There’s a mountain bike and a skateboard on the grass. The garage door is up, and a red mini-van sits alongside Smore’s forest green Cherokee. Some kind of music floats on the air. Knowing S’more, it’s country.
“I’m fine with this,” Noah says. And he is. Like Taylor, he doesn’t want to hide what they have from their teammates. Besides, he can’t wait to see their faces.
“They’re gonna ask.”
Noah shrugs and rings the doorbell. The peal can be heard through the door. He leans in to kiss Taylor. “Let them,” he says, while they’re forehead to forehead, and grins. It’s no one’s business really. If he showed up with a woman, they wouldn’t ask, they’d just assume. “We don’t have to answer.”
The door swings open and there’s a gasp and an “I’m sorry.”
Noah straightens and smiles at S’more’s daughter. “For what?” He winks. “Opening the door? How are you, Christi? Ready for summer?”
“Hell, yeah.” Christi is almost as tall as Taylor and has red tips on the ends of her short dark hair. She steps back to let them in, eying the baby carrier Noah’s toting, diaper bag sitting in the seat. Her dark brown eyes get big when she sees Emma in Taylor’s arms. “Oh my God. Whose baby? She’s adorable. Can I hold her?”
“This is Emma. I’m adopting her, so mine,” Noah says as Taylor hands Emma over.
Christi’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you guys adopting her together?” She looks very interestedly between the two of them.
&nb
sp; S’more suspects she might have lesbian leanings and had asked that if the chance arose, they act like a couple in front of her, so…
Noah leans in and kisses Taylor. Christi’s eyes saucer again.
“You know, we just got together, so we’re not. But it’s not outside the realm of possibility at some point.”
“That’s cool,” she says, trying to sound chill about it, but her smile tells another tale. Noah grins.
“Hey, hey,” yells S’more, crossing the large living room. Like most of their teammates, S’more hovers around the six-foot, two-hundred-pound mark. He’s got dark hair like his daughter, but with some gray at the temples, and Christi gets her dark brown eyes from her dad. “There you two are. You’re the last ones to arrive.” His eyes land on Emma in Christi’s arms. “Is this your precious bundle of joy? What’d you call her again, Jingle? Puck Baby?”
Christi laughs and bounces Emma lightly in her arms.
“She’s definitely a bundle of joy.”
“Damn, Thirsty. Congrats.” S’more shakes Noah’s hand and kisses Emma’s head and then Christi’s. “You remember Thirsty and Jingle, right?”
Christi rolls her eyes. “Yes, Dad.”
Noah sets Emma’s stuff out of the way in the living room and follows father and daughter out to the backyard. Noah waves at Linda, S’more’s wife, and Huck, their goalie who cooks like a Food Network chef, as they traipse past the kitchen. The backyard is filled with close to two dozen adults and a handful of children darting around, Christi and Emma not included. The greetings go around again, and then come the congratulations.
Shrieks of laughter and childish shouts peal over the music. A toddler chases his pre-teen brother and they go tumbling to the grass in a heap of giggles.
“I woulda given you one of mine if I’d known you were in the market,” says Prez with a laugh, pointing at his twin daughters jumping on a trampoline, barretted pigtails bouncing with each jump.
With a hand on Noah’s shoulder, Taylor leans in to ask what he wants to drink. No one bats an eye. It’s not indicative of anything. He and Taylor are close friends after all, and linemates, and they attend things together quite often. They’ve definitely been in each other’s personal space on more than one occasion.
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