Contents
Title Page
Part 1
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part 2
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Part 3
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Author Notes
Copyright
UNFAIR GAME
A Gay Sports Romance Novel
by
Cecelia Storm
Part 1
The Warm Up
CHAPTER ONE
Kyle was not happy. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly unhappy, just not his usual bright self.
It’s the drinks, he thought dully, looking at his half-finished cup of amber liquid. It always slowed his whirring mind and it made him think of... Cade.
He usually managed to stop himself thinking of Cade, except for the nights when his hands slid into his shorts and...
Well, the point was, he didn’t often think of Cade.
Kyle forced himself not to look for him and instead turned to Mason, who was still ranting bitterly about the argument he’d had with his wife last night. Kyle stretched his legs out. They were both sitting against the wall on the floor, apart from the rest of the party. Kyle had tired himself out dancing and Mason had just wanted to talk.
Mason and Cade had just arrived to Riverton from Versca, fresh from a glorious championship win. It still awed Kyle that Cade had won it twice, but then everything Cade did was jaw-dropping these days. Kyle was joining their team as a fill-in from London for the final month or so of the international playoffs and championship finals. He loved getting called for this team, for Cade’s team. They’d been best friends for years, and Kyle relished any time they got to spend on the same continent instead of over Skype.
Kyle had been the one to suggest an impromptu party to celebrate the win, and he’d always been good at rallying the troops. The whole team had trooped down to the hotel’s tiny party room, which Kyle had wheedled a cleaning lady into opening just for them. Seeing Cade again was both a torture and a joy; but tonight, he was determined to focus on the latter. He wanted a fun night, one of dancing and laughter so that he could get over that first meeting.
He called it The First Meeting Syndrome. It was what happened when he saw Cade again after some time apart. His senses would become so flooded with Cade that he often did irrational, overtly sentimental things. Once he'd sobbed so hard that he had to pretend the fried chicken commercial on the TV made him hungry and cranky. He still didn't know if Cade had bought that excuse. Ever since then he'd had to enthuse about fried chicken just to validate his behavior that night.
In short, he’d learned the hard way that he had to lessen the blow of it all. And what better way to diffuse sexual tension and pathetic pining than a party? And loads of it.
“How can she blame me? She knows we’re not allowed!” Mason shrieked.
Kyle nodded absently, secretly thinking that Mason was a fool. Why say no to your wife just because the coach had forbidden sex?
“You don’t know how lucky you are, Kyle,” Mason said, his head dropping against the wall with a thunk. “No stress.”
“Mm.”
“I mean, you know what I have to go through? She just doesn’t understand.”
Kyle stayed quiet. He’d always been incredibly careful not to say anything, but suddenly he felt himself becoming furious with Mason for assuming he had it easy. He knew what everyone thought about him. Happy-go-lucky, bubbly, mischievous Kyle, who played in one of the greatest football leagues, was one of the top strikers, and had a beautiful son. Lucky, lucky Kyle.
It was true. He was lucky. His son was the love of his life, and even though it didn’t work out with his mother, they were still friendly. Not everyone had such an understanding ex. He only wished they didn’t live so far away, and that he didn’t have to travel so much so that he could see him more. And although his season had been filled with injuries, he had still come out the top goal scorer of the league. His club had suffered a lot of disappointments, but he was confident they’d do better next season. He was lucky, too, that he had the flexibility and talent to join other teams and leagues when he was needed.
Kyle had money, family, looks, and he had football. So all in all, he had it good. He knew that. He was fully aware of how blessed he was.
But that didn’t change how things were with Cade. How sometimes he simply ached with it all, how difficult, how tiring, how exhausting it was to always pretend and hide.
“Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be you!” Mason said, grinning, breaking into his reverie. “So many girls and no worries, am I right?”
Later, Kyle would blame the drinks. He had no other explanation for why he suddenly snapped. Certainly, many others had made the same joke. “Lucky!” he exclaimed bitterly. “Yeah, I’m so fucking lucky.”
Mason looked wary. “Why, aren’t you?”
Kyle snorted. He tossed back the rest of the drink. “Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I don’t-“
He snapped his mouth shut abruptly, aware that he was breaking his cardinal rule. Shut up shut up shut your goddamn mouth, he thought desperately. But his head was swimming. Rational thought had flown out of the window. The need to prove to Mason that he had it better than Kyle was suddenly overwhelming.
“You don’t- you don’t even know, Mason,” he mumbled, aware that he was sounding drunk and unable to stop himself anyway.
“Tell me, Kyle.” Mason’s voice was dangerously soft, dangerous because it made Kyle want to tell him. It made Kyle want to trust him. And he knew better. He knew how well he'd guarded this secret.
But, goddamn, it was lonely. He had been carrying it around for years, the unbearable thing that never ever gave him peace. Suddenly tired, Kyle closed his eyes.
“Why doesn’t he love me back?” His voice came out quieter than he expected and he felt a giant wave of fury at his own mouth, that betrayer of all things sacred.
Mason’s head snapped around so fast Kyle swore he heard a crick. “What?” he breathed.
And that was when Kyle knew he was done for. Mason was a dirty dog, who’d never give up on a single damn thing. Kyle could see him fighting with the devil himself, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d extracted every piece of information from Kyle.
But that didn’t mean Kyle couldn’t fight. He was Kyle Sorenson, for God’s sake, and damned if he was going to give up his biggest secret with nothing less than a war. Right now, though, there was the little matter of him being drunk as a skunk and Mason being, well, not quite as drunk.
“Er,” Kyle said cleverly, eyes involuntarily straying to Cade. Who was as usual completely oblivious and laughing at Perry’s jokes. Perry slung an arm around Cade while he talked and Kyle’s eyes narrowed.
He hated Perry.
With a huge effort, he dragged his mind back to Mason, who was shrewdly looking between him and Cade. Shit shit shit, Kyle thought. Had it really been that easy? Had he really been that stupid that he’d given it all away with a look?
Truly, he was never drinking again.
He pasted on a broa
d smile and said, “So, how’d your anus heal after that kick from a bad practice last season?”
Mason’s eyes were so wide, Kyle worried if he’d tear his eyelids. “Kyle,” he said, staring at him.
Kyle felt something inside him waver. But he continued smiling.
“Mason,” he sang back, wiggling his eyebrows. “Don’t be so serious! You know I love being dramatic.” He winked sloppily, too drunk to get it right.
But he knew it was over. Mason’s expression was so serious that Kyle sighed.
Not one drink again. Ever.
Mason leaned in and hugged him suddenly, tightly. He wasn’t prone to sentiment and the gesture of it overwhelmed Kyle. He swallowed hard, willing that tight ball of emotion in his chest to just go away but he felt his eyes prickling.
Fuck.
It occurred to him what this meant. Mason knew. Someone knew his secret. He knew the world had been calling them lovers, he knew everyone loved their relationship, but no one really believed it was anything other than friendship, anything other than brotherhood.
And now he had involuntarily given it away. He felt his heart pounding. His hands were damp. He sucked in air, but couldn’t get the fear away. Mason must have felt his heartbeat because he rubbed his hands up and down Kyle’s back as if he was nothing more than a damn baby.
Kyle felt a watery laugh escape him. This wasn’t how he’d pictured his night going.
Mason pulled back and said, “It’s okay. I won’t-” and he shook his head.
Though Kyle knew Mason wouldn’t tell Cade, wasn’t it possible he’d tell Fiona, his wife? And then she’d tell someone else and that someone else would tell another person? Until finally it would come back to Cade.
He squeezed his eyes shut. What had he done?
“Hey.”
Kyle snapped his eyes open as he felt a nudge on his foot. He craned his head up to look at Cade, standing near him, smiling, eyes soft. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
Kyle wondered if Cade had ever guessed. Whether he’d ever wondered why Kyle was so loving, so generous, so patient with him. What if he’d known all this time?
Jesus, he was spiraling out of control, acting like a nut. He needed to get a hold of himself. Now.
“Cade! Championship winner!” Kyle grinned. He patted the ground next to him.
Cade plopped down. He sat close to Kyle, arms brushing against him. Kyle felt Mason watching them intently and, to his horror, felt a blush working its way up his face.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Was Mason crazy?
Kyle elbowed Mason, but his arm slipped backwards and hit the wall. He ignored the pain and Mason’s smirk and turned to Cade, who was looking across the room at Perry dancing sloppily with Randy.
“Perry is crazy, huh?” Kyle blurted, unable to stop himself, willing himself to stop being jealous.
Cade grinned. “Yeah, he was telling me some wild story.” He shook his head. “You have to hear it.”
Kyle could feel Mason’s pitying eyes. He wanted to kill him.
“Oh, great, yeah, I will,” he said, then rose abruptly, sloshing his drink a little. “I’ll go turn myself in,” he continued brightly, turning back to Mason and Cade. They looked surprised. “I’m feeling tired!”
Cade’s eyebrows came together and he instantly stood. “What’s wrong?” he said in an undertone.
Kyle noticed that Mason wasn’t even pretending to give them privacy, watching them avidly. He really hated that guy.
“I’m just tired. Practice was hard today.”
Cade searched his eyes. “Shall I come?” he asked softly.
Kyle swallowed. That damn First Meeting Syndrome. He shook his head.
“A man needs some alone time,” he grinned, winking lewdly at Mason, who rolled his eyes.
Cade smiled at that. He pulled Kyle into a deep hug. He gently pressed his cheek against Kyle’s face, brushing his lips against Kyle’s ear. “All right. Good night.”
Kyle turned around abruptly, hoping the sudden bulge in his pants wasn't visible, and walked out of the room, leaving Mason and Cade together, staring at his back.
***
Up in the hotel room, after he’d already changed into shorts and removed his shirt, it suddenly occurred to Kyle that he should never have left a tipsy Mason alone with an equally tipsy Cade.
Panicked, he sat bolt upright in bed and considered the situation. Mason had already been in a chatty mood. What if he decided that he needed to exercise his leadership here?
Cursing, he threw off the bedcovers. Going back now would just be odd, wouldn’t it? What would he say? That he wasn’t tired anymore? That he was suddenly rejuvenated from five minutes of sleep? He covered his face with his hands and groaned out loud. Why on earth had he opened his big fat mouth?
He could never sleep now, never, never.
But the feeling of Cade’s lips brushing his filled his head. He laid back down and, almost immediately, he was splayed across the covers, snoring.
***
He woke up to Cade pulling the bedcovers around him.
It was so dark he couldn’t see anything, but he knew Cade’s smell. The guy had worn the same cologne and used the same soap since he was seventeen. Kyle smiled sleepily.
He reached out blindly for Cade, who caught his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hi, did I wake you?” Cade whispered and Kyle could just picture his smile.
Kyle didn’t answer, simply squeezed his hand and closed his eyes. Cade gently brushed his free hand over Kyle’s hair and waited as Kyle drifted off again, their hands warmly clasped.
Three words left his lips, so softly that, even so close, Cade couldn’t hear.
I love you.
CHAPTER TWO
Kyle had always been an early riser. He liked mornings. There was something very calming about waking up earlier than everyone else; the feeling of having the whole place to himself even if he wasn’t alone.
But Cade liked his sleep, so Kyle got out of bed as quietly as he could, mouth dry and tasting awful. Ugh. The alcohol had left him feeling fuzzy and nauseous. He looked over his shoulder at Cade. He was sleeping shirtless, the sheets pulled to just above his hips, facing the wall with his back to Kyle.
For one long second, Kyle stared at that pale expanse of skin right above the sheet and felt his morning erection get even harder. He imagined his mouth brushing against that little dip where Cade’s spine continued into his round, plump ass.
Goddamn. Cade was his best friend and didn’t deserve to be ogled in his sleep.
Kyle grabbed a towel from the closet and entered the bathroom quickly, trying to wipe the memory from his mind. He stood in front of the toilet and freed his cock from his boxers, wondering if he’d be able to pee with such a boner. Unbidden, Cade’s shirtless back came into his mind.
He felt his cock grow harder. He looked down. It was leaking, the head turning red. Swearing, he gave in and grasped his cock. He glanced around the gleaming hotel bathroom and found some lotion. Squeezing a little onto his palm, he slicked up his dick, groaning slightly at the sensation.
His hand moved slowly at first and he watched it, imagining it was Cade’s, slowly dragging the velvety skin back and forth. He tightened his grip, maintaining the slow tempo and thought of Cade’s cock. He’d glimpsed it accidentally a few times, in the locker rooms, and it was beautiful. Thick, pale, bigger than Kyle’s, and he hadn’t even seen it hard!
Kyle wasn’t ashamed of his own girth. He knew he wasn’t the biggest guy around, but it got the job done. And besides, he had other tricks up his sleeve and no one had ever complained.
He thought of what it would be like to suck Cade’s cock, to lick that salty skin, to fit the bulbous head into his warm, wet mouth while Cade moaned. What it would be like to look up into Cade’s eyes while he blew him, Cade’s hand slipping into Kyle’s hair and forcing his cock deeper into Kyle’s throat.
Kyle’s hand was moving faster now, his breath coming
in pants. He bit his lip, trying hard not to make a sound. He thought of Cade moaning his name, whispering Kyle, yes Kyle, oh god Kyle. The idea was so erotic that he let out an embarrassingly loud groan. His hand was whipping over his cock now.
He pictured Cade getting louder and louder as Kyle sucked his throbbing dick. He took it deeper down his convulsing throat and lashed his tongue against the underside of the swollen, leaking head. Cade closed his eyes tight, saying Kyle’s name over and over, gasping as if it was a mantra. Kyle knew what that meant, and moaned uncontrollably as Cade shot wave after wave of hot cum in his mouth.
That sent Kyle over the edge. He gasped as his orgasm came, his cock throbbing and pulsing, the pleasure low in his belly and his balls. Jets of semen shot out of him, covering the porcelain toilet and white tiled wall behind it. He moved his hand slower now, gently milking the last few drops from his dick.
Spent, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub and looked at his wet hand. This was pathetic.
Humiliated, he flushed the toilet and stepped into the shower, turning the water on scalding hot in a futile attempt to cleanse the memory of jacking off to his innocent best friend who was sleeping just outside.
Kyle let the water beat down on his head and soaped himself up. He had a naturally upbeat personality and could count only a handful of times where he’d truly wallowed. He just couldn’t stand being sad and didn’t see the point in it.
He’d only ever cried a few times about Cade, and that had usually been after too many drinks, or when they’d fought. Which, to be fair, wasn’t often.
Grimly, he turned his face up to the stinging heat of the water and turned his mind forcibly to breakfast and training. Football always distracted him, and he let it. He filled his mind with dribbles, free kicks and penalty shots.
***
When he emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, hair wet, towel draped around his waist, feeling fresh, energized and happy, he stopped short and swallowed. Cade was awake, still shirtless, clad only in boxers, and lying down on Kyle’s bed.
Kyle briefly wondered if the universe was fucking with him. Surely he wasn’t such a bad fellow. Surely he didn’t deserve this level of mindfuckery.
Unfair Game: A Gay Sports Romance Novel Page 1