Then Rhian swallowed.
“God, Rhian! Fuck!” Garrick howled. His hips shot forward before banging back against the door. He shuddered. Again and again.
Rhian eased off, his cheeks hollowing out, sucking Garrick’s brains right out through his cock. His balls drew up tight, ready to concede, the battle lost to Rhian’s spectacular mouth. He wanted to fuck, to plunge in and out until he poured himself down that ridiculously talented throat.
Who is this man? This generous, passionate lover who Garrick had thought he’d known so well. He would never see Rhian the same way again. Not because his feelings had lessened—quite the opposite—but because it was if the mask had been torn off. In this moment, Rhian was new to him. Gorgeous. Changed.
Garrick tried to capture all he could, to file away every detail. His memory was forever seared with the image of those full lips wrapped around his cock.
Rhian opened his eyes, looked right up at Garrick, and smiled.
“Fuck. Fuck.” His reverent whisper wasn’t going to win any awards for poetry, but it was all he had.
Rhian’s laughter was no more than a vibration against Garrick’s skin, spiraling around his shaft and punching through his gut.
Rhian plunged deep again and Garrick could do little more than moan. And feel. Rhian’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock, twisting as he sucked his way up Garrick’s length before sinking down once more. On the deepest plunges, he’d pull his hand away and pause. Then swallow. On the furthest retreats, his hot tongue laved the underside of Garrick’s shaft, rubbing along the throbbing vein, until just the tip tickled the divot at the top.
Garrick couldn’t stop the pitch and roll of his hips any more than he could have stopped the tide from coming in. He fucked Rhian’s mouth and Rhian took it, adjusting to meet each push, barely missing a beat to accommodate the hectic thrusts.
The tingles crawling up Garrick’s spine began to coalesce, knotting deep within him. He tried to give a warning, hardly achieving more than grunts. “Shit. I’m going to come. Rhian, I’m g-g-gonna…”
Rhian didn’t pull off. He sank all the way down, his fingers digging into Garrick’s thighs the only restraint he offered. He swallowed hard, soft muscles clenching, undulating, dragging Garrick over the edge.
“Rhian!”
Climax heaved up and out of him and spilled down Rhian’s throat. Garrick’s head slammed back against the door, but he was already seeing stars behind his eyelids. Rhian’s strong hands held his hips in place. Held him up. His wicked mouth demanded everything Garrick had. Relentless.
Garrick gave it gladly.
Chapter Seven
Rhian sat back on his heels and watched Garrick try to catch his breath. He’d never really believed the old adage about how it made a difference when you cared.
Now he knew better.
Poking out his tongue, he swept up a little bit of Garrick’s come from his lower lip but stopped mid-lick when Garrick whimpered, staring at Rhian’s mouth with wide eyes. Rhian smiled. He was mighty pleased with the results of his hard work. It was glaringly apparent Garrick needed some time to regain all his faculties.
Rhian chuckled as he rose to his feet.
Leaving Garrick pinned to the door like it was coated with fly paper, he wandered deeper into the room. Not that there was far to go. Two strides and he was beside the bed and the desk.
He was contemplating the laptop, almost lost among the mountain of papers and folders on the desk, when strong hands clamped around his right arm and left thigh.
What the hell is—holy shit! Rhian was airborne.
He landed on his back on the bed in an undignified sprawl, his breath leaving him in a loud whoosh.
He barely bounced before Garrick was above him, caging him with his hands and knees. He leaned his face in close and captured Rhian’s undivided attention with his warm brown gaze. “Nice move earlier, pinning me to the door.”
Rhian’s throat clicked, he gulped so hard.
“At the very least, there has to be…” Garrick paused, dragging in a deep breath as if scenting the air between them. “…retaliation.” The word rolled off Garrick’s tongue, his voice little more than a deep purr.
Shivers coursed over Rhian’s entire body. They had nothing to do with fear of what Garrick promised and everything to do with arousal. Needs long suppressed.
Rhian’s cock twitched, painting a shiny line across Garrick’s hard belly. The drag of the achingly sensitive head against Garrick’s smooth skin turned shivers into shudders. Garrick’s hot stare, the promise in his voice, his size, his strength, all fired Rhian’s imagination. His body flushed with need, his face burning, his tongue tied with the almost uncontrollable desire to blurt out everything he wanted.
He was doing a damn poor job of hiding his response. He didn’t care. The smile whispering across Garrick’s handsome face triggered curls of warm arousal to tighten in his belly. His balls. Anticipation ratcheted up to near painful, perfect levels. He didn’t know what Garrick wanted to do. Would do. But Rhian wanted it. More than his next breath, he wanted it.
Garrick dropped slowly and pressed Rhian into the bed. His heart pounded as Garrick’s palms slid down his arms and over his hands, still splayed from his landing. Long fingers curled around his, forcing him to grasp the comforter.
Their lips barely brushed when Garrick spoke.
“Don’t let go.”
Rhian licked his suddenly dry lips. “Why not?” His voice was a whisper. It hurt to talk.
Strong hands clenched tighter. “Because I said so.”
Holy fuck.
Rhian’s hips rocked upward and dragged his cock along the hard planes of Garrick’s stomach. He nodded quickly when Garrick lifted one brow. He didn’t so much as twitch a muscle when Garrick let go of his arms and wrapped both hands around his face.
Rhian forgot to breathe, wide-eyed and frozen in place as Garrick slowly came closer.
His tongue teased across Rhian’s swollen, tender lips, soothing them before slipping into his mouth. His eyes slid shut, his tongue dancing slowly with Garrick’s. Strong hands held his jaw gently. Their noses brushed. The unexpected and incredible tenderness heightened Rhian’s hyper-awareness of his immobility. His arms trembled with the desire to thrust his fingers through Garrick’s hair and hold on.
He didn’t. Wouldn’t.
Garrick released his mouth with a last pull to his lower lip.
Rhian moaned at the loss as Garrick rose and cold air swept over him. He wanted desperately to grab Garrick and drag him back. He clutched the comforter harder.
Garrick slid down Rhian’s body. Lips brushed behind his ear. Sharp teeth scraped down his neck to sink into the spot where it met his shoulder. Rhian writhed with each touch, his back arching when Garrick soothed the bite mark with a touch of his tongue.
He moved lower, licking a slow path to one nipple. Then the next. More back-arching, blood humming ecstasy roared through Rhian. He jolted each time Garrick drew one of the sensitive nubs between his lips and sucked hard, a thumb and finger pinching the other in time with the pull of Garrick’s hot mouth.
Rhian thrashed against the bed. His cock tapped between their bellies, each contact another shock through his body. His shifting legs ran along Garrick’s long, hard inner thighs. Coarse hair rubbed and tickled, adding another layer of sensation.
Rhian, though barely rational, still recognized it would be a little embarrassing to come from nothing more than Garrick playing with his nipples.
“Garrick, please.” He didn’t recognize his own voice.
Garrick’s mouth skimmed along the underside of his pecs. Rhian felt warm lips curve into a smile. Garrick’s eyes creased at the corners when he looked up. Apparently, he liked it when Rhian begged.
Rhian liked it, too.
His reward was even better. Garrick’s long fingers spread wide across his ribs, thumbs tracing the bumps of his abs on their way south. He arched into the touch, hoping to
hell that those hands were headed to his cock. They trailed down his sensitive belly and separated, bypassing his shaft to wrap around his hips instead.
Rhian groaned. The sound was pathetic and needy. And honest.
Garrick shifted forward and pressed Rhian’s ass against the mattress, pinning him to the bed.
Rhian was keenly aware of the picture he made as Garrick stared down at him. His cock pearled with pre-come while his chest heaved to gather enough air to stay sane. And still his trembling arms stayed locked in place.
Garrick’s heavy-lidded gaze lifted, spearing straight into him. His lips were red and swollen, his chin and cheeks pink from Rhian’s heavy stubble. Rhian stared back.
As the seconds ticked past, the surging rush to completion still grappled in his guts, in his balls, but his hectic breathing evened out. His frantic pulse leveled to a steady throb, the blood in his veins thickening until the ponderous beat of his heart drummed in his head, his chest, and his cock, in a single beat.
He could not move. He could not act. Take. Give. Touch.
He could only feel. And trust.
Even in the midst of this mind-boggling passion, he knew these were not things he did well. He’d spent the better part of his life trying not to feel, always failing miserably. He’d learned he wasn’t capable of shutting off his emotions, so instead he’d shut himself off from other people. Trusted no one. He’d learned this lesson countless times. Had it beaten into him—literally and figuratively—throughout his childhood.
But here, now, with his friend, it wasn’t really a question. There was no hurdle to clear. Not anymore. Whatever obstacles Rhian had thrown up had long since been conquered.
Size and strength were not what held him pinned to the bed. Nor did the threat of retaliation—whether physical or sexual, pleasurable or painful—keep him immobile.
It was trust. Friendship. The absolute certainty that Garrick would not willingly hurt or knowingly betray him.
For the very first time in Rhian’s life, he found refuge in another person.
It was absolutely fucking terrifying.
Some hint of his fear, his confusion, must have shown on his face. Or maybe Garrick felt his body fall out of the collected rhythm Rhian had treasured moments ago. Garrick came closer, slowly, and rubbed his face against Rhian’s cheek. His lips brushed Rhian’s ear.
“Do you want me to let go?” he asked quietly.
Rhian held still, acutely aware of the brush of Garrick’s thick eyelashes against the delicate skin of his eyelid. The press of Garrick’s thumbs on his hipbones. The heavy musk of Garrick’s arousal on his own skin.
But it was Garrick’s deep voice that settled him.
“No. Don’t let go.”
Garrick waited, unmoving, and Rhian feared Garrick might do it anyway. Or ask if Rhian was okay. He honestly didn’t have an answer for that, so he turned his head and dragged his lips against Garrick’s in clear invitation. He didn’t kiss him. Just…offered.
Garrick accepted.
In spite of the sure knowledge that he was navigating an emotional minefield for which he had never been given a map, Rhian sank into the kiss, giving himself over. Entrusting himself to Garrick.
Garrick’s tongue slid slowly over his, his lips rubbing back and forth as if gentling him.
They kissed as if they had all night. As if this was all they’d come here for. And maybe it was. But as much as Rhian was enjoying it, the hum of urgency built in his chest, the steady throb of arousal returning in force as Garrick held him to the bed and kissed him tenderly.
He groaned against Garrick’s lips. “Please.”
Garrick sat back and dragged his gaze down over Rhian’s body, stopping when he got to his cock. Garrick’s tongue swept out to moisten his lips and Rhian whimpered, every cell in his body screaming for Garrick to touch him.
Garrick dropped his head slowly and the crown of Rhian’s cock disappeared into Garrick’s mouth, bathed in a hot breath a moment before those gorgeous lips closed around the sensitive ridge. A powerful suck bowed his spine between the anchors of his hips and hands, still firmly on the bed. The broad flat of Garrick’s tongue whisked across the head, rubbing over a bazillion electrified nerve endings.
Rhian’s body lit up, every muscle straining. The instinct to fuck Garrick’s mouth battled against his immobilization and lost. His kept his hips where Garrick had put them and threw his head back to shout his pleasure.
“Garrick!” His voice broke over the name.
Garrick released Rhian’s cock with a lewd pop and took up a torturous series of licks down the shaft. He spread his knees, pushing Rhian’s thighs apart.
He opened to Garrick without question or hesitation. Garrick’s lips traveled lower, mouthing Rhian’s firm sac. Rhian groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. Garrick’s mouth was hot, his teeth the barest scrape. He wrapped his lips around one ball but it was drawn so tightly against Rhian’s body that Garrick couldn’t pull it into his mouth.
With a final lick, he nibbled his way back up to the crown, ending with a long, slow rasp of tongue.
Everything in Rhian clenched tight, ready to explode. Garrick pulled him into his mouth and sucked in earnest. He released his hold on Rhian’s hips and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, adding more pressure and movement, and preventing Rhian from forcing himself too deeply into his mouth.
He needn’t have worried. Rhian was locked up tight, his body rigid, muscles clenched, his orgasm coming on like a freight train. Garrick slipped a finger into his mouth, then pulled it free and bumped it over the tight pucker of Rhian’s anus, making slow circles until just the tip eased in.
Rhian burst into a million little pieces.
It was a long time before the intense swells of his orgasm were replaced with a wash of euphoria that left Rhian limp, his body melting into the bed. He never wanted to move from this spot. He never wanted to forget what this felt like.
Even in his post-coital haze, he knew that he should get up and leave. He couldn’t spend the night, and he didn’t imagine Garrick would want him to.
He was almost ready to actually use a muscle and lift his head from the mattress when Garrick dragged him to the top of the bed and yanked the covers out from underneath them. The bed shifted, the lights snapped off, and Rhian didn’t know what the hell to think.
Maybe Garrick was ready for another round?
A strong arm wrapped around his ribs and hauled him across the bed. He ended up with his ass tucked against the tops of Garrick’s thighs and Garrick’s chest warming his back. Rhian held perfectly still while he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. Garrick’s hand dropped to his belly and soothed his skin in broad strokes, his fingers stopping everyone once in a while to trace patterns in the little hairs of his treasure trail.
Holy shit, were they snuggling?
With a couple pokes, Garrick rearranged them so Rhian was using Garrick’s arm as a pillow, his nose pressed to Garrick’s biceps, the smell of warm skin and Garrick familiar and strange.
But then, this whole damn thing was strange. Rhian had never snuggled, spooned, cuddled, whatever in his life. Sure, he’d slept in the same bed, curled up with the other kids in some of the houses. But that was about safety in numbers.
This was about…
What the hell is this about?
His mind raced to come up with a reason to get out of bed. A way to ask Garrick to let him go. But the fingers dancing against his skin kept pulling his thoughts off course. The steady rhythm of Garrick’s heart against his back lulled him.
Garrick would probably fall asleep quickly. Rhian decided he would sneak out after that.
It was his last thought before he slipped into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Chapter Eight
Garrick woke the next morning, sorry to leave behind the most blissful uninterrupted night’s sleep he’d had in weeks.
Where the hell was he?
Then he remembered. On
a road trip. The hotel. The bar.
Rhian.
With a start, he opened his eyes to find his friend, his lover, curled into his chest. Rhian’s breathing was deep and even. He looked peaceful. Calm. Hardly like the ball of nerves Garrick had pulled into his arms last night.
It had taken a solid ten minutes of petting to get Rhian to relax. After an orgasm like that, the man should have succumbed to sleep in a heartbeat. He’d certainly appeared more than ready to snooze when he’d been sprawled out across the mattress after Garrick had finished with him.
But by the time Garrick had tucked them in together, Rhian had gone rigid with tension. Garrick could have let the guy off the hook and allowed him to leave. He would have if Rhian had asked, of course. Even just once.
But he hadn’t asked. And Garrick hadn’t offered. Seeing him like this, he was glad he hadn’t.
Rhian’s curls stood up in all directions, his thick lashes casting dark shadows on his cheeks in the half light. No lack of illumination could disguise his high cheekbones or the soft pink cushion of his lower lip. The muscles in his neck and cheeks were lax, making Garrick realize how tightly Rhian held himself when he was awake.
Asleep, he didn’t look like he had a care in the world. He looked…young.
Twenty-four years old. Garrick winced. Except, never in the time they’d been friends had Rhian’s age been an issue. He was what Garrick’s mom would call an old soul.
He traced a finger over the barely discernible lines radiating from the corners of Rhian’s eyes. They popped when he smiled, but Garrick had seen them more often when Rhian’s face was creased with worry or stress. And they were deep enough to make Garrick wonder how much time he’d spent doing either in his relatively short years.
Rhian never complained. Never blamed anyone but himself for anything. He was kind, smart. A fucking brilliant hockey player. Garrick knew these things. And little else.
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