His first thrust fired bolts of raw pleasure up his spine, tightening his muscles until he clung to Rhian. He buried his face against Rhian’s neck, his groan muffled by warm skin and soft hair.
His hips took up a rhythm, his entire existence narrowed down to the rub of slick skin, the squeeze of his fingers. Rhian lay wide-eyed, his hard thighs squeezed tightly together. If Garrick closed his eyes, he could imagine their strength, how they flexed when Rhian ran, or lifted, or hell—just walked. He’d never guessed they would feel this good. That he would ever have an opportunity to learn their texture, their strength, so intimately.
He thrust harder and jerked Rhian’s cock with almost punishing force and speed. Garrick’s shaft slipped higher with each long drive until he slid into the hot valley between Rhian’s ass and thighs and rubbed over his hole.
Rhian arched his neck and shouted unintelligibly. Garrick pressed harder, moved faster. Rhian smashed his face against the mattress and groaned. The next thrust burned along Rhian’s perineum until the crown of Garrick’s cock nudged hard against the back of Rhian’s tight balls.
Garrick’s big, strong, tough hockey-playing friend let out a sob of pure unadulterated need.
Garrick shuddered and thrust again. And again.
Rhian writhed against him, his cries hoarse. He clenched Garrick’s hip with one hand, urging him on, the other scrabbling across the bed to gather a fistful of sheets to anchor them both.
“Harder. Faster,” Rhian ground out, his voice hardly more than a whisper between his panting moans. His cock swelled against Garrick’s palm.
Garrick wanted Rhian to unravel. To completely relinquish himself to the moment. He moved faster, squeezed tighter.
Writhing became thrashing. Rhian’s legs scissored over Garrick’s shaft. Muscles shifted and bulged. Garrick’s plan was working perfectly, except he hadn’t counted on coming so completely unglued himself.
“Rhian,” he groaned. “Rhian. God please, Rhian.”
Garrick couldn’t stop saying his name, chanting it against his shoulder, gasping it into his neck, a ball of fire spooling in Garrick’s gut, settling into his balls. Between one thrust and the next he pitched into the abyss, shocked when the first wave of release tore through him. He bit down on Rhian’s shoulder and howled.
Rhian cried out, his back arching, hips jerking. Each convulsion poured Rhian’s climax into Garrick’s pistoning fingers and yanked another spasm out of Garrick with the clench of incredibly powerful thighs.
They lay like that, twitching, neither releasing their grip on the other, until by some unspoken agreement, they melted into the bed, Rhian’s face smashed to the mattress and Garrick half on top of him.
Rhian inhaled the scent of clean cotton and Garrick from the sheets while he tried to restore normal function to his brain.
It had been five minutes, at least, that he’d been lying here, enjoying Garrick’s weight against his back. The aftershocks still echoed low in his body, the bite mark on his shoulder a stinging reminder of what they’d done. And how good it had been.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered, trying to figure out what the hell Garrick had done to him.
He felt more than heard Garrick’s laughter. He smiled, absurdly content, and closed his eyes. Just another five minutes.
His eyes popped open when Garrick shifted away. He almost called out his objection, but retained enough sanity to keep silent. He couldn’t lie here forever. He had to get his bag, go to his room, and try to sleep.
“Stay here,” Garrick murmured, as if reading his mind. “I’ll get something to clean us up.”
Rhian nodded. Or tried to, his eyes sliding shut when Garrick pulled the covers up to his ears. Cleaning up was probably a good idea. Rhian was slicked with lube and semen from his belly to his knees, which should have been gross, but somehow just felt sexy.
Clear evidence his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet.
He had no idea how long he lay there before Garrick returned, peeling away the covers and wiping him down with a soft cloth. He let Garrick roll him over, move him however he needed, not bothering to wonder at the dignity of spreading his legs and letting Garrick run the soft flannel square along his perineum before pausing to rub at his anus.
“Hmmm…” His hum sounded like interest, even to his own ears. Not that he was going to be up for anything for a while, but still…
Garrick’s mouth pressed gently to his, a smile against his lips. He pried his eyes open. Garrick had turned off more lights, so he couldn’t see the color, but the glint of humor in Garrick’s dark gaze was apparent enough.
“We’ll get here eventually.”
Garrick’s deep voice and the press of that one finger sent shivers racing over Rhian’s skin.
“But I’m going to take my time. Enjoy every step along the way. See that you do, too,” he promised with another pulse against Rhian’s fluttering rim, the tip barely wedging in.
Rhian swallowed hard, staring up at Garrick without so much as blinking. He wanted that. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted that.
Garrick seemed to understand, his smile widening as he leaned down and captured Rhian’s mouth. Garrick’s tongue danced slowly over his, deeply, as if sealing his promise.
The kiss ended and Rhian lay sprawled on this back, staring at the door. He couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything less than he wanted to get up and leave this room. Sighing, he started to sit up.
Garrick pushed him back down. “Where are you going?” He shut off the last light, climbed into the bed, and pulled the covers over them.
Rhian opened his mouth to protest, but didn’t get a word out before Garrick had manhandled him onto his side and pressed his long, hard body the length of Rhian’s back.
This again.
He stared hard at his bag on the dresser. He didn’t remember Garrick bringing it into the room. In hindsight, he should have leaped from the bed and run like hell the minute they had finished.
Garrick’s big hand rubbed over his belly, stroking the sensitive skin and soft trail of hair.
Rhian frowned. “What is this?” He’d thought he understood the answer when he’d asked the same question in the hallway earlier, but this didn’t fit.
Garrick’s hand paused. “Friendship?”
Rhian smiled wryly. Same answer, too. “Really?”
He half expected Garrick to say something about friendship and sex again, but Garrick surprised him.
“Yes, really.” He pulled Rhian back against him, as if determined to keep him there. Garrick took up petting him again. It was distracting as all hell.
Rhian wanted to make a crack about how he didn’t spoon with any of his other friends, but held his tongue. He knew the truth. There wasn’t anyone else like Garrick in his life. Never had been. To pretend otherwise seemed dishonest, even if Garrick was being obtuse.
Garrick rubbed his face against Rhian’s hair. “I like sleeping like this,” he admitted quietly, “but if you don’t or can’t, then it’s okay. We can stick to our own sides of the bed if you’d rather.”
Rhian forced aside the pang of guilt. “What about the guest room?”
Garrick’s hand stilled and Rhian instantly missed the soft caress. Silence stretched around them.
When Garrick spoke, it was in a perfectly neutral voice. “If that’s what you want.”
Rhian no longer knew what the fuck he wanted. “I’ve never… I mean…” He wasn’t sure why he was trying to explain this. “I don’t cuddle. With men. Or women. I’ve never…”
Garrick resumed his gentle stroking and Rhian felt something suspiciously like relief. It was irritating that he was so susceptible. And yet he found himself relaxing against Garrick’s chest.
Which was bad. He tensed again, furiously searching for the right argument or the strength to climb from the bed.
Or not.
What the hell was wrong with him?
One moment Rhian was limp in Garrick’s arms, the next
he was wired tight. Rhian had cycled through whatever was gnawing at him enough times that Garrick was no longer startled by the sudden changes.
Rhian’s confession didn’t surprise him. That Rhian was intermittently doing a fair imitation of an oak plank was evidence enough that this wasn’t easy for him. Garrick wasn’t upset by Rhian’s struggle so much as saddened.
Had no one ever held him?
Garrick wanted to ask. Wanted to demand to know why Rhian’s mother, or father, or someone hadn’t cherished him. But then, tales of foster care and the mess that lay in his arms were probably answer enough. All he could do was promise himself that no matter where Rhian slept that night, Garrick would accept his decision.
That didn’t mean he had to cease smoothing his hand over Rhian’s stomach until he decided. Or stop forcing his breaths to remain deep and even, gently rocking Rhian against his chest.
The truth was, the more Rhian battled whatever was in his head and heart, the more Garrick wanted to hold him.
Chapter Thirteen
Rhian woke with the bright rays of morning sun warming his face. A soft rumble from behind him caught his attention. He listened, half awake, and wondered at the source of the soothing noise.
When he realized it was Garrick snoring gently, his eyes snapped open.
Holy crap. I did it again.
As if he’d needed further proof that he was a complete idiot, the first thing his gaze landed on was the framed photograph on the bedside table. Savannah. She smiled at him, her bright green eyes dancing with laughter. And love. It was written so plainly on her face it wouldn’t have been more obvious if someone had scrawled the word across her forehead with a Sharpie.
Rhian hooked one hand around the edge of the mattress and eased away from Garrick. The house was cool, the air shocking as he freed one arm and shoulder from the cocoon of down and cotton.
He almost had his foot slipped from beneath the sheets when a big hand curled around his hip and drew him back.
“Where are you going?” Garrick grumbled, his voice rusty from sleep.
The deep timbre rubbed along Rhian’s skin, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of six and a half feet of warm, sleepy, naked man rolling over on top of him, pinning him face down on the bed.
Rhian’s brain went blank.
It wasn’t panic. Or fear. There wasn’t even a hint of confusion. Just…
Peace.
He let out a deep breath and sank into the mattress.
“There you go,” Garrick murmured. He slid callused hands down Rhian’s arms and threaded their fingers together. “Better?”
Rhian nodded. He didn’t understand what was happening, he just knew it was better. He would happily lie there—pressed under all this living, breathing, warm shifting weight—for hours. Days.
Soft lips and stubble trailed across the back of his neck and he hummed happily. He twitched his hips, trying to find room for his growing erection, and ended up with a steel bar wedged between the backs of his thighs.
He flashed back to the night before and hummed again. Longer and louder.
Garrick’s chuckle tickled his ear. His lips teased along Rhian’s neck. Sucked on his earlobe. The scrape of sharp teeth and flick of hot tongue were a welcome, if wholly unnecessary, seduction. As Garrick’s mouth moved across his cheek, Rhian turned his head farther, blindly seeking a kiss.
Garrick locked onto his lips. He shifted to ease the awkward angle and lodged his cock into the valley of Rhian’s ass in the process.
Rhian whimpered and sucked Garrick’s tongue into his mouth as he thrust his ass up against the solid pressure of Garrick’s erection. Rhian didn’t know what he was doing, what he was asking for, but it felt right. Every vein and ridge of Garrick’s cock electrified the sensitive skin between his cheeks.
Garrick pushed harder and Rhian whimpered again.
He didn’t know how to voice his desires, wasn’t even sure what they were, but he definitely wanted more.
When he shoved his ass up at Garrick again, the kiss ended with a mutual gasp. Garrick released one of Rhian’s hands—Rhian didn’t even consider moving it—and clutched his hip.
“Easy there,” he chuckled. “You’ll throw me off.”
Rhian immediately subsided into the bed, his face burning.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Garrick muttered and captured his mouth in another demanding kiss.
Without thought, his ass shot up and circled against Garrick’s cock again. The grind was incredible, but not enough.
A flutter of nerves kicked in Rhian’s chest.
Garrick, with his uncanny ability to read Rhian’s mind—or maybe it was his body—sank down on top of Rhian, pressing him into the bed once more, their fingers lacing against the sheets.
The peace bled back in, washing away his anxiety.
“Stay right here,” Garrick said. “Don’t move.”
Rhian nodded, but otherwise lay perfectly still and enjoyed the quiet in his head.
Garrick threw the covers off and knelt between Rhian’s wide-spread thighs. He couldn’t remember when he’d opened himself up like that, leaving himself exposed to Garrick and the cool air.
He felt vulnerable, which was funny, since he hadn’t at all when Garrick had been lying on top of him, holding him down.
He cracked open one eye when Garrick leaned over and rummaged through the contents of the bedside table. Rhian couldn’t see what was in the drawer, but he could guess. The nerves returned with a vengeance, not at all alleviated when Garrick came up with a fistful of objects Rhian couldn’t identify.
Garrick settled on his knees between Rhian’s legs and tossed whatever he’d held onto the bed by Rhian’s hip. Rhian wanted desperately for Garrick to lie down on top of him again, but didn’t dare ask. It was too weird, and he wasn’t sure Garrick would understand. Rhian didn’t understand it himself.
He jumped when Garrick put his hands on Rhian’s back.
“Shhhh…” Garrick massaged his back, warming his skin, strong fingers digging at the tension knotting his muscles. Eventually, Rhian melted into the bed. Only then did Garrick stop.
Rhian realized he was a lot of damn work. Why did Garrick even bother?
“Come here,” Garrick said softly.
At Garrick’s urging, Rhian rolled over and sat up. Garrick wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him again.
It wasn’t as effective as lying down on top of him, but the slow dance of tongues between their mouths went a long way toward erasing Rhian’s worries. So did Garrick’s fingers curling around his cock.
Rhian shoved both hands into Garrick’s hair and kissed the fuck out of him.
Soon he was flat on his back, legs splayed around Garrick’s hips, thrusting into Garrick’s fist between their bellies.
Garrick was having a hard time keeping his focus with Rhian kissing him to the point of insensibility. Or maybe his head was just spinning from Rhian’s ever-changing reactions.
Never in his life had he seen a person more in conflict with himself. One moment Rhian was a writhing mass of sexual need, and the next, a taut ball of worry.
Garrick was having a devil of a time keeping up, but he was starting to figure a few things out.
For one, Rhian didn’t like to be held. No, wait, that wasn’t right. He actually liked it quite a lot. He just wasn’t very good at it. Garrick, fortunately, was available for practice.
The second thing was that while Rhian was practically panting for Garrick to do things to him, specifically anal things, when the overwhelming heat of passion eased off, Rhian’s big brain would override his little brain and spiral into a panic.
This was a real issue for Garrick. Because both brains needed to consent before Garrick did anything.
Sinking further into their kiss, he tangled his tongue with Rhian’s. He gloried in the squeeze of a strong hand on the back of his neck, the graceless and frantic twitch of Rhian’s hips beneath him.
They�
�d both be more than satisfied with another vigorous frottage, but Garrick couldn’t shake the memory of that whimper, the little squeak of unadulterated need that had escaped Rhian’s throat when Garrick had been grinding his cock against Rhian’s tight hole.
He wanted to hear that again. He wanted to give the passionate, uninhibited man who had made that wordless demand whatever he needed. Garrick could and would be patient.
If he moved on to what he had in mind immediately, Rhian would freeze up. He’d like to insist Rhian trust him, but that was stupid. And wrong. Not just because trust was something Rhian had to give freely, but because Garrick hadn’t earned it. He’d been lying to Rhian. To everyone on the team, actually, but it only mattered here. Now.
Garrick broke the kiss. “I have something I have to tell you.”
Rhian’s eyes opened slowly, his gaze vague. Trusting.
It punched Garrick right in the gut, leaving him speechless.
Rhian quirked one eyebrow. His lips were swollen and red, his cheeks pink.
Words simply fell out of Garrick’s mouth. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Rhian blinked.
Garrick shifted away, trying to give himself room to think. He slid down Rhian’s body and Rhian lifted his knees higher, tilting his hips so Garrick’s junk ended up back where it had started—against Rhian’s ass.
Rhian inhaled sharply and wriggled against Garrick’s shaft. “Do something.”
Need roared through Garrick. “What are you asking for?” he gasped. He needed to hear Rhian say it.
Rhian stared up at him with breathtaking trust. “Anything.”
Wow. Garrick sucked in a couple deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate without success. He pulled away from Rhian and sat up on his knees, watching for the panic to return.
It didn’t. There was no fear. No change. Rhian lay spread before him, patiently waiting for Garrick to do as he pleased.
He almost blew then and there. He reached for the lube with an unsteady hand and held it where Rhian could see.
The Hat Trick Box Set Page 34