by Rachel Reid
Scott was in a mood, though. If Rozanov rode him too much tonight, Scott might just punch him.
* * *
“Oof,” Elena said. “That’s gonna be five minutes.”
They watched Scott being hauled off to the penalty box. He was still yelling what appeared to be very strong words at Rozanov over his shoulder.
“Rozanov deserved it,” Kip said.
“You might be a bit biased.”
“Rozanov is a fucking dick.”
“Well, nice guy Scott Hunter just punched him in the face.”
“Aw, whatever. Scott had gloves on. And Rozanov covers his whole fucking face with that visor anyway.”
The ref made the hand gesture to indicate that Scott was getting a five-minute penalty for roughing.
“You should text him,” Elena said, nudging Kip’s thigh with her toe. “He’s not doing anything for a few minutes.”
“Shut up.”
“Send him that photo I took of you in the tux at the tailor.”
“No! It’s not finished yet, and besides—”
“You want it to be a surprise.”
Kip blushed a little. “Maybe.”
“You’re cute,” Elena said, getting up. “You want more wine?”
“Nah, I gotta work tomorrow.”
“You can stay here tonight, if you want. Cut your commute down in the morning.”
Kip considered it. “Can’t. I need to pack a bag before I go to work. I’m, uh...”
“Staying at Scott’s tomorrow night?”
“Yeah,” Kip said, grinning stupidly.
“Oh my god!” Elena exclaimed. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow!”
“I know...”
“Are you going out?”
“No! No...we’re not going anywhere. We, y’know...can’t.”
She rejoined him on the couch. “Are you sure you want this, Kip? I know he’s him, but he comes with a lot of baggage.”
Memories of the past week flooded Kip’s brain: both of them naked in Scott’s bed with their legs tangled together, Scott’s fingers gently brushing his hair; Scott admitting that he’d never brought anyone to his home before; Scott wanting Kip to tell him about his day over the phone, just so he could listen to his voice.
And that late-night text message.
I’d give anything to see you right now.
“Yes,” Kip said. “I do. He’s worth it.”
Chapter Nine
Friday finally arrived.
Scott had texted Kip that morning. Getting on the plane soon. See you tonight?
Kip had written back, I can’t wait.
Scott: Me neither. But I need time to cook!
Kip: Ok. When?
Scott: 6?
Kip: Ugh. Ok.
Kip finished work at two. He had an overnight bag packed, and four hours to kill. He had already planned on going to the gym after work, so he did that. After, he could shower there and get all fixed up before going to Scott’s.
He had packed a nice outfit to change into for tonight. He didn’t think Scott expected him to dress up; he’d decided to make a bit of an effort.
When Kip checked himself out in the locker-room mirror before leaving the gym, he thought he looked pretty good. He was wearing his best jeans, which were dark and slim-fitting. He paired them with a deep red shawl-neck sweater he had bought on sale at Old Navy. Nothing fancy, but appropriately cozy for a Valentine’s night in.
And it would come off easily.
He still had an hour and a half, so he decided to go pick up some wine to bring over.
Should I bring a gift?
Jesus.
Kip had never actually done Valentine’s Day before. What was an appropriate gesture for the man you had been secretly dating for about a week?
The millionaire he had been secretly dating for about a week.
A short while later, Kip stood in the wine boutique down the street from his gym, frowning at the bottles he typically purchased—inexpensive reds his parents liked, and eight-dollar whites that Elena had described as “drinkable.” Could he really show up to Scott Hunter’s home with one of these? What did that guy usually drink?
Kip considered a thirty-dollar bottle. Then a forty-dollar bottle. He considered the meager sum that sat in his bank account at the moment.
Maybe he could bring beer. It wasn’t traditional, but...
Or flowers? Would flowers be weird?
Suddenly the seventy minutes he had left to kill didn’t seem like nearly enough time.
* * *
Scott wiped his hands on a dish towel and admired the salad he had made. It was simple, just arugula and cherry tomatoes and pine nuts with a bit of Parmesan, but it was pretty.
He checked the time. Fifteen minutes until Kip would arrive.
He opened a bottle of chilled white wine and pulled out a couple of glasses. He wasn’t even sure if Kip drank wine. There were still so many things he didn’t know about him.
I want to learn everything.
These feelings were all so new to him. He hadn’t had anyone to care for—or to care for him—since his mother had died when he was fourteen. His teammates were like family, and those bonds were important to him, but this all-encompassing desire to be with Kip was like nothing he had ever experienced.
He considered where he had been less than a year ago. Last August he had been in Spain. Torremolinos. Alone.
Scott had spent his days there anonymously exploring the small beach town, sometimes heading to the beach to swim or check out the...sights. He hadn’t quite gathered the courage to go to the “gay” beach that he had known was there.
At night, the darkness making him brave, he had made his way to one of the many gay bars. He preferred the pubs. It was much easier to take a seat at a bar and nurse a beer than it was to embarrass himself on a dance floor.
He’d never had trouble attracting the kind of attention he had been secretly hoping for. He couldn’t flirt to save his life, but he knew he had a good body. He would sit with his beer in the tightest T-shirt he’d dared to wear and wait for someone to approach. Someone had always approached.
Doing anything in public terrified Scott, so he had gone to their hotel room, or, on a couple of rare occasions, brought them to his. The encounters were provisional, educational. They were just...maintenance. They had filled a basic need, and they’d prevented Scott from losing his mind. There had been nothing romantic about them.
They had been nothing like the times he had been with Kip. Scott had carefully stored the memory of every kiss and touch and moan Kip had given him, and had filled the lonely hours on the road by replaying them over and over again.
He was smitten. That was the only word for it.
Water was heating up for the pasta, and the shrimp were all cleaned and ready to go into a pan of butter and garlic. His plan was to throw it all together after Kip arrived.
He checked the dinner table to make sure everything was perfect. He adjusted the lighting and lit a little candle in a glass holder in the middle of the table. He was nervous. He’d never celebrated Valentine’s Day before.
He inspected himself in the hallway mirror. He’d dressed a bit beyond his usual T-shirt and jeans, going with nice charcoal-gray pants and a button-down blue shirt. He didn’t expect to be wearing clothes for very long anyway.
But he wouldn’t rush things. He had plans. Lots of plans.
He smiled to himself and went downstairs to greet Kip. He had been counting the minutes all day. All week, really. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d looked at the selfie Kip had sent him.
And then, there he was. Walking through the front doors of Scott’s building with a shy smile that made Scott’s heart race.
“Hi,” Kip said.
&nb
sp; “Hi.” Scott wanted to hug him, but he worried if he made contact he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Better to get behind closed doors.
In the elevator, a minute later, Scott said, “It’s so good to see you again. You have no idea.”
“I think I do.”
He flushed and pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry? I have to boil the pasta, but it will only take a few minutes.”
“Sure. Whatever you want to do.”
“I mean, we could wait, but I was thinking we might want to get eating out of the way...”
Kip bit his lip, and just that small gesture turned Scott on so much.
He fumbled with the code to unlock his apartment. Kip was right behind him, leaving barely any space between them, but still not touching.
Finally the door unlocked and they slipped inside. When the door clicked shut, they stood facing each other for a moment, nervous and grinning. After a ridiculous few seconds, Scott huffed out a laugh and, with a gentle hand on Kip’s face, guided them together.
They kissed deeply and openly for a long time. Scott heard Kip’s backpack hit the floor before his hands wrapped around Scott’s back. Scott dropped his own hands to Kip’s back and pulled him tight against him. It felt so good to hold him. The frustration and stress Scott had carried all week drained away.
When they eventually broke apart, Kip laughed. “I missed you too.”
Scott smiled and took his jacket from him to hang up. Kip had a red sweater on that made him look so handsome and cuddly...
“You look good,” Scott said. “Really good.”
“Was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Come on in,” he said, extending a hand. Kip smiled and took it.
Scott led him to the dinner table that, he had to admit, looked pretty romantic. He had done a good job setting the mood, considering his lack of experience.
“Wow,” Kip said. “All this for me?”
“I, uh, I’m sorry if it’s a little much. I just... I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day before.”
“You know something?” Kip said. “Me neither.”
“Really?”
“Really. Never.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
Kip shrugged. “Never been in a serious relationship. I mean, there were a few guys that I saw for a little while, but never in February, I guess.”
“Wow,” Scott said. “Well, that takes a load off. I thought I’d have to live up to some stiff competition.”
“No.” Kip smiled. “And I have a feeling you would have won anyway.”
Scott kissed him, because he couldn’t help it. “I like winning.”
He led him into the kitchen. He poured two glasses of wine and put on an apron, which Kip seemed to love.
“Look at you,” Kip said, leaning back against the fridge with his glass in his hand. “A whole other side of Scott Hunter.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “I have lots of sides.” He dumped the linguini in the pot of boiling water and turned on a second burner. “This won’t take long,” he assured Kip as he placed a sauté pan on the burner.
“Take your time. I like watching you work.”
They chatted while Scott prepared dinner. It was easy and comfortable, just how Scott had always imagined being in a relationship would be.
“Okay,” he said when dinner was ready. “Go sit down. I want to bring it over to you looking all nice on the plate.”
Kip did as he was told and Scott assembled the plates. He carried them to the table, and his breath caught when he saw how stunning Kip was in the dim light of the dining area.
He placed the pasta down next to the salad plates and slid into his chair. He held up his wineglass. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day. This looks amazing, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks. I wanted to keep it kinda light, y’know?”
Kip’s lips twitched. “I think I get it.”
“I was thinking,” Scott said after a couple of bites, “it’s not just Valentine’s Day that we’re celebrating tonight.”
“Oh?”
“It was also one month ago today that I met you for the first time.”
“Wow,” Kip said, “I didn’t think about that.”
“I’m really glad I decided to get a smoothie that day,” Scott said, smiling.
Kip smiled back at him, that easy, sexy smile that always completely disarmed Scott. “Me too.”
They ate and talked and laughed and drank more wine. Scott had positioned their chairs so they were facing each other across the table because he thought that would be the most traditional, but now he was regretting it. He wanted to be closer to Kip. As soon as they were done eating, he suggested they move to the couch.
Before he joined Scott in the living room, Kip paused and said, “Oh! Just a second.”
He walked over to where he’d left his backpack by the door and came back with a small paper bag. “I got you something. It’s... I mean, it’s nothing. I just saw them and... Anyway, here.”
He thrust the bag at Scott, who took it. “You got me a present?”
“Sort of. It’s just dumb. I didn’t know what to bring.”
Scott opened the bag and pulled out...
“Socks,” he said.
“Yeah, they’re kinda like the color of blueberries. Or, like, the color of your smoothie that you get. I thought maybe you could wear them when you’re on the road. It would be like bringing the good luck with you?”
Scott ran his thumb over the soft material of the socks, completely speechless.
“Like I said,” Kip mumbled, “it’s just dumb.”
“No!” Scott stood to meet him. “No, I love them. They’re... I love them, Kip. I’m going to wear them all the time when I’m away and I’ll think of you. Thank you.”
Kip looked relieved and delighted, and Scott kissed him, because how could he not? It might sound silly, but having these socks would help him a lot when he was away from Kip.
They kissed, and this time Kip’s mouth moved from Scott’s lips to his jaw, then up behind his ear. He sucked in a breath, completely overwhelmed with need for this beautiful, thoughtful man.
“So now that dinner is out of the way...” Kip breathed against his ear.
“There’s also dessert,” Scott said weakly. “I went to a bakery—”
Kip cut him off with a kiss that made Scott forget all about the macarons sitting in a box on his counter.
He was hard already. He’d been at least partway there since Kip had walked into his apartment, if he was being honest. It was ridiculous. He had previously gone years, and more recently months, without sex and now he couldn’t go a few days without feeling desperate for it.
Kip wasn’t going to make him wait anymore. He unbuttoned Scott’s shirt, destroying the nice outfit Scott had so carefully put together. But Scott didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to be rid of these clothes. To feel Kip everywhere.
When the last of the buttons were freed, Kip hauled down the collar of Scott’s undershirt and scraped his teeth along his clavicle. Scott shuddered and pressed his erection against Kip’s stomach. If Kip didn’t touch him there soon, he was going to start whimpering.
Kip laughed softly against his neck. “That for me?”
He slid a hand up Scott’s thigh. When his hand finally made contact with Scott’s cock through the fabric of his pants, Scott choked out a broken “Y-yes. God.”
He was disappointed at his lack of discipline. He’d wanted to lead up to this. Draw it out. Savor it.
But Kip was already unfastening Scott’s belt and unzipping his pants and slipping a hand inside and...
“I—have plans,” Scott stammered.
Kip smirked at him and knocked a throw pillow onto the f
loor at Scott’s feet. “Me too.”
He dropped to his knees.
“Been thinking about this all fucking week,” he said, nuzzling Scott’s cock through his underwear—his nice underwear—and breathing hot on it. He slid Scott’s pants down by running his hands firmly down Scott’s thighs. Scott wished he had something to lean against, but he was standing between the couch and his coffee table with no walls in reach. It was going to take all of his strength to keep his knees from buckling.
Scott stroked Kip’s hair and sighed happily as Kip slid a hand back up and cupped his balls, gently squeezing. Scott shuddered and sucked in a breath.
He had wanted to pamper Kip. To take it slow so they could explore each other. But maybe taking the edge off wasn’t the worst idea...
Kip pulled Scott’s cock out, and kissed the head. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “Look at you.”
“Been that way since you got here, pretty much.”
“Lemme help.”
Kip’s mouth was so warm and so slick, and Scott was so turned on that he was going to come embarrassingly fast. A few minutes of Kip’s mouth on him, and Kip’s hands on his thighs and ass, and Scott was trembling.
“So close already, aren’t you?” Kip brushed his fingers over Scott’s balls, which were tight and heavy. He tongued at the precome that was leaking from the tip in fat drops.
Scott just gripped Kip’s hair, unable to speak, and Kip took him deep into his mouth, sucking hard and relentlessly until Scott shattered and came. Kip continued to lap gently at the head until Scott took a wobbly step backward.
“That,” Scott panted, “that was not how this was supposed to go.”
“No?” Kip said, rising to his feet. “I’m pretty pleased with the results.”
Scott laughed and shook his head. “I was gonna take it slow tonight.”
“We can still take it slow. I’m in no rush at all.”
Scott kissed him and then playfully hauled him down onto the couch with him. They landed all tangled up in each other. Scott shifted so his back was against one of the arms, one leg stretched out along the length of the sofa. Kip was mostly in his lap now, kissing him as he carefully tucked Scott back into his briefs.