Crossing the Touchline

by Jay Hogan

  He cocked a brow, peering down between us. “You need to lose some clothes, mister.”

  My lips found their way to his neck and nuzzled him softly. “You say that like you’re running this show, handsome.”

  His breath fluttered against my cheek. “As if.” He chuckled. “You’ll tug the leash when you’re good and ready.”

  And didn’t my dick just jump at that. He might be enjoying the switch-up, but he was letting me know I still had what really cranked his shit. Someone had finally paid attention to my Christmas list and added in all the optional extras just for fun.

  He lifted his weight off me so our dicks barely brushed against each other in an agonising tease. “I do have one question, though, before you release your inner control freak and blow my mind…,” he said.

  My turn to chuckle. I pushed up and eyeballed the man who’d filled my thoughts and fantasies since the first time I’d laid eyes on him. “Knock yourself out.” I slid my tongue along the line of his jaw, invoking a shiver, and his grey eyes turned charcoal.

  He kissed my nose again, something I could seriously become addicted to. “To be honest,” he murmured, nuzzling my throat, “I’m kind of hoping you’re packing one of those scraps of silk behind that zip because… damn….”

  Holy Toledo. Was this guy for real? I swallowed my tongue before it fell out and hit the floor, although it had zero effect on the squeak that escaped my lips. His mouth quirked up in a smirk. Cocky bastard. It was past time to get this show on the road and switch out the driver before he got ideas above his station.

  I filed away besotted in favour of bossy—no easy thing. “Get busy and find out.” I pushed him off and plumped a pillow behind my head to enjoy the show.

  The grin he threw my way could’ve lit up a carnival, and he had those chinos off me in five seconds flat, exposing a pair of French lace-and-satin briefs, a gift from a friend’s trip to Paris last year. They were a deep emerald green, soft as butter, and currently jam-packed full of eager anticipation.

  Reuben froze, his eyes huge. “Fucking hell, Cam.”

  You couldn’t fake that kind of enthusiasm, and relief once again poured through me. He wouldn’t be the first who thought they had it all going on with the idea of a bit of mangerie, only to fade with the reality of it shoved in their face. I fondled his hair and grinned. “Must be your birthday.”

  He snorted and dove in, the slide of the satin over the sensitive skin of my dick combined with the heat of his mouth nearly pushing me over the edge at first touch. I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy the attention for long, not if I wanted his arse. And I did. Badly.

  “Take them off,” I grumbled, bucking up into his mouth as he lifted the elastic of the briefs, freed my dick, and enveloped it in wet heat. He couldn’t take me fully, though he gave it a damn good try, but it wasn’t long before I had to haul him off and drag him up to my mouth before I embarrassed myself.

  I pushed him off and onto his back, then fell back on my knees to enjoy the view. Bruised, slick lips, blown pupils, and dripping dick. The corners of his mouth teased up into a dead-ass, sexy grin as he grabbed his legs, lifted his knees to his chest, and spread himself for me.

  Something like a growl rumbled from my chest as I positioned myself between his legs and ran my slick fingers over his tight balls and behind. He shuddered.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful,” I answered the nervous blush rising up his throat. And when my fingertips found that opening, his head fell back, his eyes closing in absolute focus.

  “Ah….” He pushed back on my fingers and reached for his dick but I batted his hand away.

  “Behave.” I crooked a finger, and he bucked hard as I hit that sweet spot, leaving him scrambling for purchase, and oh God, the noises coming from his mouth. Without a stranglehold on my own arousal, I could’ve come from the sight and sound of him alone.

  He squirmed. “I’m not sixteen, Cam… shit… I don’t need… ah….”

  I withdrew, patted his butt, and dropped my head to claim his mouth again. “Eyes open, sport,” I ordered with a nip to his lower lip. “I wanna watch those gorgeous greys as I slide inside.”

  I suited up, my shaking hands exposing the knife-edge control I was barely holding on to and Reuben smirked knowingly. So much for my game face.

  “Think that’s funny, do you?” I sank my teeth into a soft spot on his neck, and the groan he emitted was delicious.

  “I think it’s hilarious,” he huffed against my hair.

  I scowled. “Everyone’s a comedian.” I lined up and pushed in, a slow, molten slide to the hilt. He kept his eyes fixed on me all the way, a deep groan, a tense hand on my hip, and the stuttered fluttering of those long lashes the only hints at the transition his body was needing to make to accommodate me.

  Once seated, I paused and stared down at him, taking the opportunity to feast on the sight of myself buried in his arse.

  “Pervert,” he huffed.

  I grinned unapologetically. “Absolutely. You ready?”

  He wriggled a bit. “I told you it’s been a while, right? Truthfully, only once, so… yeah….”

  What? He… what? My head shot up, but he wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled me down to press a hard kiss to my lips before I could say anything. Then he pushed me away and his head fell back on the bed.

  Concern rose in my chest. “Are you sure…?”

  “Not a word, Cam,” he interrupted with a finger to my lips. “It’s fine.” Then he grinned. “Now let’s see what you’ve got, you teasing bastard.” He dropped his hands to the bed and braced himself.

  I hesitated only a few seconds. Okay, then. I’ve got you. I eased out and tested him with a couple of firm, questioning strokes, just to be sure he was as fine as he said, but when he grabbed my arse and slammed me hard into him, I took him at his word. There would be no award for finesse or stamina. If I got a dozen strokes in before I blew, I’d consider it a win.

  Movement to the side snagged my attention, my breath catching at the sight of the two of us in Reuben’s full-length mirror. My rhythm stuttered. With my eyeliner smeared, sweat running down my face, and my lean frame braced between Reuben’s thick, muscled legs, railing deep into him, we looked fucking glorious. An appreciative groan escaped my throat, and he turned to meet my gaze in the mirror.

  “Look at us, Rube. So damn magnificent together.”

  Neither of us said a word, but I saw the minute he got it—the beauty of our difference and how sizzling hot it was. His gaze trailed down, and his eyes widened at the contemporary take on a traditional tattoo that covered my right butt, precious recognition of my mixed Polynesian heritage. He caressed it gently, then dragged me so deep inside him, I swear I felt his breath on my dick.

  For a time we watched our reflected bodies in that erotic dance, entranced, no sound bar huffed breaths and the slapping of skin. The silence might have been unnerving, but instead it was magic, as if every ounce of energy in the room homed in on that one point of connection between us.

  When he turned away from the mirror, I followed his gaze, and the raw pleasure I found there was enough to undo me. Two more thrusts and it was all over as bolts of pleasure ripped through my body. He rose to meet me, his hands fisted in my hair, arched up in his own release.

  No words, no name calling, just the held breath of total concentration. I lightly stroked us through our peaks, slowing when I felt him relax and my own dick threw up its hands in an oversensitive protest. Then I collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped both arms and legs around me vice-like.

  I nuzzled his neck and a few moments later wiggled free of his heat. “Shit, Rube,” I huffed, catching my breath. “That was crazy sweet.”

  His fingers traced light circles on my back, ghosting in and out of my crease. “Mmm-hmm,” he hummed against my hair.

  We lay like that for a few minutes, neither of us willing to interrupt the comfortable silence that lay between us, or the intimate embrace. It was me who finally
broke it, pushing off Reuben’s glorious pecs and rolling to my side, hoisting my top leg over his. My fingers slid over his chest, playing with the smattering of blond hair sprouting there. I grazed one of his nipples, and he shuddered, so I leaned in and gave it a quick flick with my tongue.

  “Quit that.” He pushed me away, covering the nipple with a hand. “Not fair.”

  I straddled him, grabbing both his hands and forcing them above his head. “Whoever said I’m fair was lying through their teeth.” I pressed a kiss to his lips, and he opened immediately, melting against me, offering himself, making it clear I could have whatever I wanted, however and whenever I wanted it. It was intriguing, intoxicating, and goddamn dangerous to my heart. Too late for that.

  I rubbed my nose against his, idly wondering if the gesture would become a thing between us. The thought warmed me in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge. I cleared my throat and moved off him to sit with my back against the headboard, and he turned on his side to face me.

  “So,” I said seriously.

  “So,” he repeated with a smirk. “I guess this is grown-up time now, huh?”

  I snorted, channelling my fingers through his mass of blond waves. He sighed and leaned into my touch like a well-fucked cat.

  “I guess.” I watched his hair fall around his face like a soft halo and drew my hand back before I lost the ability to think at all. “You,” I directed. “Down there.” I indicated the end of the bed.

  He sent me a roguish grin. “Got a problem being close?”

  “Hell yeah, I do,” I admitted. “You’re a fucking impossible distraction.”

  He shifted back in the bed. “Mission accomplished.” He reached out a finger and tickled the sole of my foot.

  I jerked it back with a scowl. “Behave.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Some hitherto unknown switch wired deep in my groin flicked on and… ugh.

  The shit-eating grin on his face said it all.

  My gaze narrowed. “Right, so that happened. And not to put too finer point on it—holy shit, Reuben.”

  He beamed. “Yeah?”

  I bit back a smile. “Yeah. But don’t get too cocky.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His smile faded and he sat up, tucked his feet under him, and gave me his full attention. “So,” he breathed the words shakily. “Please don’t tell me this where you say you’ve made a mistake and it can’t happen again?” The silver in his eyes dulled a mite as if he were bracing for the bombshell.

  What the fuck? Did he really think I’d do that to him? “Look at me, Reuben.”

  His eyes met mine.

  “You may be a temptation of the worst kind, but you’re not completely irresistible, hotshot. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mean every single thing I said. I just need to be sure you understand the fine print. This isn’t gonna be an easy ride for me and I need you to respect that. Don’t fuck me around.”

  He reached up to take my hand and kissed the palm. “I won’t. This is a gift I never expected and I know how hard it will be for you. I’ll look after it. ”

  “Just make sure you do.”

  We held each other’s eyes for a charged moment, until at length he tilted his head, and those grey eyes danced again with mischief.

  “So, does this mean we’re done with all the grown-up shit?” His voice was thick.

  “Absolutely.” I bit my lip suggestively.

  “Cool.” He launched himself up the bed, flattening me under him as he took possession of my mouth. I pulled back and laughed, busying my hands in his nether regions. Gift horses and all that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Reuben

  SO MUCH changed in just a few days, I was too scared to breathe in case it all fell to pieces or I woke up. Since the night of the barbecue, Cam and I had seen each other twice. We’d agreed to keep our meets to his place, if possible, to avoid any risk of being rumbled by Craig or my father, even though it meant Jake being in the loop. Not Mathew, though.

  Cam hated lying to his brother, or at least not being entirely honest with him, but Mathew was a teammate, and I just couldn’t risk it. If he happened to stumble onto us… well, I figured we’d deal with it then. I could see the whole thing didn’t sit well with Cam, but what could I do? He knew that before he even suggested we get involved.

  Holy shit. We were involved. I couldn’t believe it. He was my boyfriend, albeit a secret one, and yeah, I felt all kinds of messed-up and guilty about that. But sometime soon—hopefully, maybe—we could be open about it. Why and how things were gonna magically change in order for that to be the case, I hadn’t a clue, but I’d meant what I’d said about trying to make it happen, somehow.

  The first time we met up at Cam’s place, on the Monday evening, he’d just finished a punishing shift in the ER and looked beat. Jake was already home, and when Cam left the two of us to go shower, his cousin pretty much read me the riot act regarding what to expect in the bodily injury department should I be stupid enough to hurt Cam. I would’ve done exactly the same, but since it seemed there was little chance of either Cam or me coming away unscathed from… whatever this was we had going on, it was kind of sobering.

  Jake brushed on the topic of that bastard ex of Cam’s, Dominic, and let’s just say I got the parallels. It had taken a long time for Cam to drag himself up from that betrayal, and here I was asking him to step back into hiding again. I didn’t blame Jake. I’d fucking hate me too. But he did promise to keep things quiet about us, as long as I treated Cam well.

  The whole conversation had weirded me out, though, leaving me swamped with guilt all over again. Cam picked up on my mood, and instead of anything hot and steamy, we simply snuggled on the couch and watched a movie. I massaged his aching feet, and he played with my hair. It was… nice. Really, really nice.

  Another plus in my world was my dropkick brother seeming to finally get his act together… a little. He hadn’t completely given up the booze, but I hadn’t seen him shit-faced for a long while either. He was still impatient with Cory, but in some kind of brain explosion, he’d actually asked Georgie to babysit so he could come with me to a support group meeting, even taking a contact list with him when he left. So, yeah, baby steps.

  As for Georgie? That was a whole other thing. The morning after the barbecue, I’d woken to a ton of messages from her wanting to know where I’d been, why I hadn’t texted like I’d promised, and why she had to find out from Craig that I’d blown the barbecue off after getting into a shitfest with Dad.

  I loved Georgie to bits, and she’d been better then okay when I’d shared about the couple of encounters I’d had with Cam, even going back to her old stance that I should just come out and be done with it. But this new development between him and me felt too fragile to share, so I’d fobbed her off with a few lame excuses, which she saw straight through, and things had gotten frosty between us.

  She was hurt, and I knew it, but I didn’t know how to make it right without explaining what was going on, and I just wasn’t ready to go there. Still, she’d been the one person who’d been there for me through everything, and I really did need to fix things between us. I just wasn’t sure how.

  Tuesday night I had training till late, and Cam was covering a late shift for one of his staff who was off sick, so it wasn’t till Wednesday that we saw each other again. This time Jake was out, and I didn’t get farther than inside the front door before Cam had me pinned up against the wall, lips on mine, while simultaneously stripping me of my jeans and briefs in a baffling act of dexterity. Seconds later he was on his knees, and though I’d like to say I lasted for hours, truth was I spilled into his mouth in less than a minute, and all before we’d even said hello. Spectacular.

  He hadn’t allowed me to reciprocate, insisting instead that we fuel up with some grilled chicken and salad he’d prepared, before hauling me into his bedroom for act two. I was grateful for the sustenance since we didn’t come up for air till much later. Enough to say he owned my a
rse that night, and I was lucky to still be walking when I left.

  For a guy who wore makeup, he was a downright toppy machine in bed, and I loved every arse-spanking minute of it. Under enormous pressure to perform on the field, it was both a relief and a massive turn-on to hand myself over to him in the bedroom. All I had to do was show up, and I was guaranteed to have my mind blown. If he picked I was needing a bit of control, he gave it willingly, while keeping a sixth sense about when to take it back.

  Tonight, however, I was running late to share our date of grilled steak and vegetable pie at his place after training. The team meeting had finished on time after a light session, but before I left, coach motioned me into his office and handed me his phone with a smile. Wiremu Ngata was officially done for the season, needing surgery to his shoulder, and I was back on the AB bench for the second Bledisloe test match in eight days’ time. Holy fucking shit. I couldn’t wait to tell Cam.

  My damn stomach bitched all the way to his place, and I was briefly tempted to make a rare detour and preload with a burger, but Cam had made it a mission of his to keep my eating habits on the straight and narrow, so grilled steak and veggies it would be. If the man got one whiff of fat or cheese on my breath, I’d be in a mess of trouble. The perks of having a nurse and hardarse as a boyfriend. Yay, me.

  My news got forgotten in the distraction of Cam’s energetic welcome, and after a not-so-brief stopover in the bedroom, where a bit of fun was had by all, we showered, dressed, and curled up on the couch in front of the television. Already eight in the evening, and with a game tomorrow, I needed to head out and catch a decent night’s sleep, something that wouldn’t be happening if I parked myself in Cam’s bed.

  “Where’s your roommate?” I scooped the last of the vegetable pie into my mouth.