Two Man Advantage

by Samantha Wayland

  Now.

  The moment Rhian had touched him—a stupid, simple pat on the back, for Christ’s sake—Garrick had hardened to stone. Need throbbed through his veins, arousal licking over his skin like fire. He felt hot and restless, like he was being chased by…what? By over a decade of ignoring something he wanted. By a year of wanting this man and no longer being able to pretend that wasn’t true.

  Savannah, what the hell have you done to me?

  He stood. Abruptly. He was no fool. When a man was chased, he should run.

  “Where are you going?” Rhian asked.

  Garrick threw money on the bar. He couldn’t get his voice to work, so he just shook his head and turned away.

  “Garrick?”

  The trace of hurt in Rhian’s voice made Garrick feel like shit, even as it made blood pump into his cock and his feet move faster.

  He had to get away. Run.

  Rhian called his name again, but he kept going. He saw concern on Alexei and Mike’s faces, but didn’t stop. Didn’t smile. He had no reassurances to offer anyone—least of all himself.

  He had to get away. To his room.

  He pressed the up button for the elevator repeatedly until, at last, the damn doors opened. He was almost clear. Almost alone. Almost where he wouldn’t have to keep his feelings from showing on his face or his erection from showing in his jeans.

  Almost.

  Rhian leaped onto the elevator just as the doors closed, sealing himself and Garrick into the tiny box.

  He had no idea what the hell he was doing.

  He should probably leave Garrick alone. It was obviously what Garrick wanted. But Rhian couldn’t shake the feeling there was something going on. Something to do with Garrick’s disappearances, how stressed out he’d been for the past few weeks, how tired. Garrick just wasn’t himself.

  Rhian didn’t have the foggiest fucking idea how to help someone who seemed more than capable of taking care of himself, and who had made it pretty clear he didn’t want any help. Still, he had to try.

  Also, what the fuck was with those stares?

  Ordering himself to settle, to focus on one thing at a time, he kept his back to the elevator doors and studied Garrick. His friend appeared a little wide-eyed. Possibly nauseated? Maybe he’d had too much to drink, which wasn’t like him either.

  “You okay?” Rhian asked.

  The small space felt intimate. Tight.

  Garrick dropped his gaze and shrugged, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Drawn by the movement and the constant desire to look anyway, Rhian’s eyes darted down to Garrick’s crotch.

  Hands in pockets or not, there was no way to miss the huge erection pressing against Garrick’s fly. Rhian’s heart rate doubled.

  Shit. What did that mean?

  Nothing. It meant nothing.

  He searched Garrick’s tight face and tried again. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Garrick stared at the lights indicating which floor they were passing. “Fine. Just going to get some rest.”

  It was probably true. He’d had to be shaken awake when the bus had arrived.

  Though, that still didn’t explain why Garrick wouldn’t look at him. Or the erection. The one Rhian couldn’t stop thinking about. The one he had to look at again, as if his eyeballs had little weights on them and nothing on earth could prevent them from dropping.

  Damn it. It was definitely still there.

  Rhian dragged his eyes back up to find Garrick was looking at him funny.

  Rhian winced. Shit. He’d just been caught checking out his friend’s package.

  He pretended with all his might he had no idea what that look was about. “What?”

  The ensuing silence was deafening.

  Rhian flinched when the elevator dinged. The doors opened, and Garrick charged past him and down the hall without saying a word. Rhian’s nerves went from buzzing to nuclear. He held the door to the elevator open, frozen with indecision. Instinct told him to follow Garrick. To try to explain it away. Logic told him to leave the man the fuck alone.

  Instinct won.

  Garrick stopped at his door and fished his keycard from his pocket. When Rhian drew up beside him, Garrick’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. Clearly surprised. Possibly alarmed.

  Rhian was equally surprised and alarmed to see how fucking huge Garrick’s cock was, pressing against the front of his jeans without Garrick’s hands to disguise it.

  Stop looking!

  “Can I come in?”

  “Why?”

  Good question. What could he say? He needed to know Garrick was okay. If they were okay. He needed to explain. Or something. Fuck. How the hell was he going to explain checking out Garrick’s dick?

  Rhian looked again—yowwee—thenup and down the hallway. “Let’s talk inside.”

  Garrick stood unmoving, probably trying to come up with a nice way to tell Rhian to fuck off. Rhian didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Garrick opened his door and walked through it. He didn’t wait for Rhian, but he didn’t slam the door in his face either. It was all the invitation he was going to get, so he took it.

  The moment the door struck home behind Rhian, Garrick spun to face him. “Well?”

  Rhian knew he shouldn’t, but had to check again. Garrick’s erection was clearly outlined by the soft denim of his beat-up jeans. Rhian pulse pounded in his ears in time with the throb in his dick. Now that he’d looked, he couldn’t stop staring. It was big. Thick. And larger. Definitely larger than when he’d first noticed it in the elevator.

  Rhian wanted to take it in his mouth so badly his knees went weak.

  “Are you checking me out?” Garrick asked, his voice ringing with disbelief.

  Rhian closed his eyes and swallowed hard. This was stupid. A mistake. A bad, bad, bad idea.

  “Yes.”

  Garrick took a step back. “I don’t understand. You date women.”

  Rhian stared pointedly at the bulge in Garrick’s pants before meeting his gaze. “Yeah. So do you.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  Rhian nodded, not sure what to say about that. Or about the fact Garrick was still standing there, staring at him, rather than throwing him out, beating him up, or denying everything.

  “I’m bi,” Rhian blurted. He could hardly believe the words had left his mouth.

  Garrick ran his hand through his hair. Repeatedly. “Holy shit.” He did not sound pleased.

  Rhian’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Holy shit,” he echoed in a quiet voice.

  He reached for the door.

  Chapter Six

  Garrick didn’t know what he wanted. Or more precisely, what he wanted first.

  But then, it wouldn’t matter what he wanted if Rhian left.

  Garrick pounced. There was no other word for it.

  Grabbing Rhian’s arms, he spun him around and slammed his back against the door. Garrick hadn’t intended to be quite so forceful, but fuck, he was strung tight and winging it. Rhian’s eyes bulged. Like maybe Rhian thought Garrick was going to beat the shit out of him.

  Not hardly.

  Garrick always tried to be a thoughtful and clever lover, but all finesse deserted him now. Giving over to his raging need, he smashed the full length of his body to Rhian’s, his erection jammed against Rhian’s hard belly, his thigh wedged between Rhian’s and nestled up against the his junk.

  Garrick watched, transfixed, as cobalt blue irises disappeared beneath dilating pupils. Pink seeped over high cheekbones. Rhian’s mouth fell open and Garrick captured it, overwhelmed by the deluge of sensory input flooding into his system.

  Rhian tasted sweet and sharp. Delicious. Firm, warm, and incredibly responsive lips clung to his.

  Garrick moved closer, held tighter, and slipped his tongue into Rhian’s eager mouth. He swallowed Rhian’s moan and met the buck of his hips, desire roaring through him.

  This. This was what he wanted. Needed. Only it was so much more. His normally reserved friend
came alive in his arms, writhing against him, broadcasting his pleasure with little sounds in the back of his throat that Garrick instantly craved.

  Garrick changed the angle of the kiss, desperate to get closer, taste more, feel everything, find all the answers to the questions he hadn’t dared ask. Coarse stubble abraded his freshly shaven chin. Strong hands clasped his hips and yanked him in tight as Rhian ground against him. It was perfect.

  So much strength. So much power.

  Garrick’s head swam. How had he gone so long without this? How had he suppressed this need for so many years, let alone resisted this man for even one week?

  He pushed and thrust and reveled in the resistance Rhian’s hard-muscled body offered. No curves and soft spots here. Just angles and planes. A man.

  His friend.

  He slid his hands along Rhian’s jaw and took control of the kiss, desperate exploration morphing into absolute possession. His pulse skipped when Rhian murmured against his lips and acquiesced completely, practically melting against the door. Against Garrick.

  He feasted on Rhian’s mouth, glutting himself. No lipstick, perfume, or lotion. Just the hint of sweat and piney shaving cream. A little sports rub buried in there too—which was way fucking sexier than he ever would have guessed.

  Rhian jerked Garrick’s shirt free of his pants, the cold air on his skin a momentary diversion. It was nothing, though, compared to Rhian’s hands skimming up and over his ribs. They were calloused and so pleasingly rough as they dragged along his sensitive skin.

  Tearing his mouth away, he sucked much-needed oxygen into his lungs. He grabbed Rhian’s T-shirt, yanked it off and tossed it to the floor. Then he could only stop and stare.

  He’d seen Rhian’s chest a thousand times, but this was different. This wasn’t some torturous test to see how much he could glimpse without getting caught. This was about looking his fill. At his leisure.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He ran both hands down Rhian’s chest, catching each nipple with a fingernail, learning the texture of every ridge.

  Rhian’s eyes fluttered closed. His voice was little more than a hoarse moan. “I do know. I can’t even look at you in the locker room.”

  Rhian opened his eyes and looked up at Garrick with a heavy-lidded, unfocused gaze. All the hair on the back of Garrick’s neck stood on end. Rhian was gorgeous all the time, but in the throes of passion, he was fucking beautiful.

  Garrick needed more. More of Rhian vague-eyed and swollen-lipped. More skin. More touch. He could hardly bring himself to pull his hands away to tear his own shirt up over his head. He immediately reached for Rhian again, but stopped to let his friend’s eyes trail over his chest and belly.

  Rhian smoothed rough palms along Garrick’s pecs and up over his shoulder. Garrick relished the large, strong hands rubbing down his back and around his ribs. He growled when Rhian’s hands returned to his chest and thumbs flicked across his nipples, forcing them to bud tight and hard.

  More. He slipped his fingertips behind Rhian’s waistband, loving how Rhian’s hard stomach jumped under his knuckles. Garrick popped the button and began to slide the zipper in a slow, delicate trip downward. His excitement careened higher with the freeing of each tooth of Rhian’s fly.

  Rhian’s hands grasped his and halted his single-minded quest. “Wait.”

  Garrick would die of frustration if Rhian made him stop now. He tore his gaze from their joined hands and searched Rhian’s face. “What is it?”

  “We can’t,” Rhian gasped, his breathing hectic, his regret palpable. “Fuck, I want to, but I can’t. I like Savannah. You’re my friend. I don’t want to fuck up…God, this sucks.”

  Garrick dropped his chin to his chest and fought to clear his head. He needed to explain, quickly and succinctly, so they could get back to the more interesting task of ripping each other’s clothes off.

  He met Rhian’s deep blue gaze. “It’s okay. I cannot believe I’m about to admit this, but it was her idea.”

  “Pardon me?” Rhian asked, completely expressionless.

  “This. You. Me. I mean, she didn’t know it would be you or that it would be tonight or—shit.” He was making a real hash of this explanation. “Savannah knows I’m attracted to men. Or I was. Have been in the past.” Garrick sighed. This sounded only marginally less insane in his head. “Look, here’s what it is. I’m bi, too. Savannah knows. She doesn’t want me to be lonely while we’re apart and said I could sleep with another person as long as that other person is a man and I tell her about it.”

  Rhian’s dubious look proved Garrick hadn’t successfully avoided his sanity being called into question. “Say what?”

  Laughing, Garrick pressed his forehead to Rhian’s, daring to steal a quick kiss, pleased when Rhian’s lips briefly clung to his. “That’s what I said too. But then I started thinking, you know, about you, and how I haven’t been thinking about it because we play hockey, and I assumed you were straight, and then I was thinking about it even though I shouldn’t, and then I tried to get drunk and you tried to console me, which didn’t help at all, so I ran, you followed, and here the fuck we are.”

  Garrick grimaced. His goal of being concise had definitely been lost somewhere. He thought he’d at least gotten his point across. And Rhian seemed to be taking it well. He wasn’t running. Or laughing hysterically.

  “Shit. Savannah is quite a woman, isn’t she?”

  Garrick smiled at the quiet awe in Rhian’s voice. “Yes, she is. This is only one of the many reasons why I am in love with her.”

  Rhian took a moment to digest that, and while Garrick would have been bitterly disappointed and monumentally frustrated to walk away at this point, Rhian deserved the truth.

  “Are you okay with this?”Garrick asked.

  Rhian looked up and Garrick fell into his dark blue gaze. He’d never wanted a man more in his life.

  “As long as no one is cheating.” There was a hint of a question in Rhian’s voice.

  Garrick’s smile was slow. “No one is cheating.”

  “Then yes, I’m—”

  Garrick captured Rhian’s mouth and thrust his tongue past Rhian’s still-parted lips. After a grunt of surprise, Rhian gave himself over, his hands curling around Garrick’s neck and holding on.

  Garrick blindly finished unzipping Rhian’s pants and shoved them down over lean hips, satisfied when they thumped to the floor.

  No underwear. Shit, that was hot.

  But not half as hot as Rhian’s thick cock. Garrick ended their kiss so he could look. At last. The mushroom-shaped crown was flushed dark crimson, the veins along the shaft standing out in stark relief against the pale, silky skin beneath. Garrick’s mouth watered and his ass clenched. He didn’t know where to begin.

  While Garrick stood there in a daze, unable to tear his eyes away, Rhian kicked his shoes and pants aside and unfastened Garrick’s jeans. He wasn’t prepared when Rhian stole his move from earlier and spun, checking Garrick back into the door. He slammed against the hard wood, still warm from Rhian’s broad shoulders.

  There weren’t a lot of people who could manhandle Garrick. That a man every bit as strong and physical as he—possibly more—was about to become his lover was unbelievably fucking hot.

  Then Rhian fell to his knees, taking Garrick’s jeans, boxer briefs, and every single goddamn thought in his head along with him.

  His painfully hard cock sprang free, yanking a grunt from his chest. The exquisitely sensitive head brushed Rhian’s soft, dark blond curls and cheek before coming to rest not a hair’s breadth from Rhian’s full, red lips.

  “Perfect,” Rhian whispered. He brushed a finger along the slit, gathering the pre-come waiting there, then dipped his finger into his mouth.

  Garrick made another noise, this one embarrassingly like a gurgle. He watched, stupefied, as Rhian leaned forward and ran his tongue over the same spot his finger had just touched. Hot breath washed over Garrick’s cock.

&nbs
p; Almost insensible with anticipation, Garrick’s entire cognitive function boiled down to ohmysweetjesuspleasepleasepleasepleasejustdoitgodplease.

  He wobbled, almost falling to the floor when his knees turned to jelly. Wrapping one hand around the doorjamb, he watched wide-eyed as Rhian Savage, the fastest, toughest defensemen in the EHL, closed his eyes in apparent bliss and licked away more pre-come. Electric shocks fired through Garrick’s body, searing him from the inside out. He was pitifully close to coming. So close to painting that beautiful face with his thick white seed, he had to clutch the doorframe until his fingers ached, amazed it didn’t crack under the pressure.

  Rhian continued his torment. Gentle licks brushed Garrick’s shaft, jolting through him like fire. Needy little noises caught in the back of Rhian’s throat with each lick, as if it were Rhian’s dick being worshipped. Garrick twitched in reaction to each sound. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it, could stand still and not touch.

  Rhian slid the crown into his mouth, swirled his tongue around it once, then sank down the shaft, his mouth forced open wide.

  Garrick’s control slipped. He fisted a hand in Rhian’s curls, knowing he held on just a little too tightly. He couldn’t help it. He had almost no command left over his own body, having relinquished it entirely into Rhian’s care.

  Rhian’s mouth stretched, his lips thinning as he continued to take more of Garrick into his mouth. Down his throat. The heat, the pressure, the need, was almost unbearable.

  Sweet Jesus. Garrick was not a small man, in any respect. No one had ever taken this much. Taken it all. The air burned in his lungs when his straining, swollen head bumped the back of Rhian’s throat, then slid farther, until Rhian’s lips were wrapped around the base of his shaft. Wet warmth enveloped Garrick from tip to stem, exciting him beyond measure. His chest locked up, his entire body frozen. He was terrified to move. To breathe. Perhaps it was empathy, as there was no way Rhian could breathe with Garrick’s cock lodged so deep.

  The trust was humbling. And a huge fucking turn-on.

  Garrick was dimly aware he’d gone up on the balls of his feet, his body plastered to the door, petrified he’d lose control and start thrusting the way every instinct in his body screamed at him to do.