10. MILES
TEN
MILES
That’s it. I can’t stand it anymore. The bromance is all well and good, but tonight, I need to cut the strings and get laid.
We’re finally home from our rocky away trip, and I swear to fucking God, the wind is starting to get me up at this point. Maybe Bilson is contagious because I haven’t been this hard up since I was a stupid freshman trying to hold down my spot on West Haven’s hockey team.
So I ignore Bilson’s message about what I’m doing on our night off and get ready for a night out.
“You’re looking … inappropriate,” Mom says the second I walk in the back door. I’ve got my own studio I had built behind the main house, but since my schedule is so erratic, I never bother to buy my own food and mooch off them instead, but that also means I’m open to opinions when I step foot in the main house.
“And you’re beautiful as ever.” I learned early on with Mom, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I won’t point out that a tank top is hardly inappropriate. She smiles. “There’s casserole in the fridge.”
I love her casserole. The whole time I’m shoveling it down though, I can feel her eyes on me. “Yes?” I ask around a mouthful.
“I hope you’re being a good boy to all those girls you … spend the night with.”
My face immediately heats. “Don’t say good boy. Please. Not in that sentence.”
“Miles, I didn’t raise you to be one of those sporting types who disrespect women and have a different one in their bed each night.”
“No worries there, Ma. I haven’t had anyone in my bed since I moved back home.”
She casts a skeptical look over me.
“I’m serious!”
“Now that you’re getting all rich and famous, I don’t want you falling into anyone’s traps. There are some sweet girls out there, baby, and the faster you settle down—”
Settle down? Jesus fuck, I’m not Bilson. “Noted.”
“And make sure you use protection—”
“Ma! I’m a grown-ass man.”
She steps forward and picks up a cloth that she uses to dab at my mouth. “Yet you still can’t feed yourself.”
I give her a scathing look—that mustn’t be too scathing, considering she laughs—and rinse my bowl.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m allowed to worry about you.”
“Yeah, me. Not my dick.”
“Don’t be crass.”
“Then nose out, woman.”
Unfortunately, Dad takes that moment to enter. “What did you say to your mother?”
“Nothing. Not a thing.” I plant a quick kiss on her forehead as I head for the door. “Love you both, don’t wait up!”
I’m just climbing into my truck when my phone starts to ring. I answer without checking the screen and mentally curse when a familiar, deep voice comes down the line.
“You didn’t write back.”
“Ah …” I turn my car on. “Write back to what?”
“You have read receipts on, dumbass.”
“Fuck.” He caught me. I pull my truck onto the driveway and onto the road. “Sorry, I wasn’t completely sure on my plans, but now I’ve decided to head out.”
“Oh.” There’s something weird in the way he says the word. “Like, out out?”
“Yep. Time to put an end to the dry spell.”
“Uh, so, that’s sort of something that I kinda …”
“Yeah?”
“Can I come?” he blurts.
Guess that means the dry spell is over, then. I don’t blame him. He gave it a good go, but the body wants what the body wants, and I’ve seen Bilson’s troubles way too many times this week. Being half-hard in the locker room is not a good look, so like hell I’m going to deny him.
“Sure. Want me to pick you up?”
“Just give me the name of the place, and I’ll meet you there.”
Even better. It takes me twenty minutes to get to the bar on the outskirts of downtown, and Bilson is already there waiting out the front. I’ve gotta hand it to him, the old guy’s got game. He looks good in his button-up, which is the kind of thing my mom probably hoped I wore out instead of a barely there tank top.
I pretend to look around as I approach him. “Sorry, I’m looking for my guy, CB, have you seen him? My height, crotchety as fuck. Definitely doesn’t have this panty-drencher look going on that you do.”
Bilson tosses his head back on a laugh. “Is that a compliment I hear?”
I know I’m supposed to say something back, but I’m thrown when his eyes meet mine and he looks like a totally different person. He’s done something with his dark hair that makes his strong features stand out, and I might tease, but he really does look good.
I need to get laid.
It takes me a second to shake the stupidness off. “Let’s go in.”
He sticks close behind me on the way inside, and since it’s still relatively early, we sneak two stools at the bar.
When he slides in next to me, I can’t help narrowing another gaze at his face. “Why do you look different tonight?” Sure, his hair isn’t the usual shaggy, damp mess I’m used to seeing, but there’s something else.
One large hand comes up to rub his jaw. “Skipped shaving yesterday.”
That’s it. His usually light stubble is thicker. Darker. It makes his jaw stand out more.
“Maybe I should skip shaving.”
“Why? You want to show off that baby fuzz?”
I scoff. “Wait until playoffs. Then you’ll see a real bear—”
His hand slaps over my mouth, suddenly a thousand percent closer than before. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I flick my tongue over his palm, making him flinch away.
“Gross.”
“Never had any complaints.” I throw in a wink to up my douchebag rating. Then, my gaze catches on something that I’m not expecting to see. “Apparently, I’m not getting any complaints from you either.”
“Shut up.” He shifts closer to the bar. “If anyone finds out you got my dick hard …”
“You’ll what?” I lean toward him. “Tell me again how straight you are.”
“I am straight. This wasn’t you. It was … was … your tongue. You know how horny I am.”
Taking pity on him, I catch the bartender’s attention and order us two drinks. “Lucky that all ends tonight.”
“Yes. Umm. About that.”
There’s that weird tone again. I spin on my stool to face him, trying to read whatever this awkwardness is off his face.
“I want to point out first that this was your idea.” He clears his throat. “I’m really, really bad with women. Form connections super fast.”
“What in the four divorces are you talking about?” I gasp, pretending to be shocked.
Bilson slaps me about the head.
As he should, frankly.
“What I’m trying to say, if you’d shut your big mouth, is that I want to take you up on your offer.”
Something deep and low in my gut is suddenly very interested in this conversation. I narrow my eyes. “Which offer? You want me to walk your hookups to the door, or …”
His eyes get bigger and rounder, and that’s when I catch on.
My grin eats my face. “You want a threesome?”
“Shut up,” he hisses, looking around.
“Okay, okay.” I lower my voice. “But to clarify, we’re talking you, someone else, and me, right?” I’m way too entertained by the thought.
“If you were fucking with me—”
“No.” The word bursts from me too quickly. “I mean, nah, man, it’s cool. If that’s what you need, I’m your guy.” I hold up my fist between us, and after a couple of seconds, Bilson taps it with his. “I’ve got you,” I assure him, inhaling sharply. “Not like I’ve never had a threesome before.”
He gives me a dry look. “Of course you have.”
“First time with a guy though.”
His eyes clash with mine again, and something like nerves passes over me. We both take a moment, registering what exactly it is we’re agreeing to before he quickly redirects his stare to the dance floor behind us.
I’m not chickenshit though, and I force myself to look—really look. He’s got a faint bruise on his cheek, just above where his coarse stubble starts. The strong line of his jaw. His thick neck. Pecs hugged tight by his shirt.
If we do this, I’m going to see him naked outside of the team showers with a billion other dicks around. He’ll be hard. I’ll be hard. Will that be weird? Bilson is all man. Solid chest sprinkled with hair. Deep abs. Tree trunk thighs. The thing about threesomes is that they’re all about give and take.
How much am I willing to give?
How much am I willing to take?
I lick my suddenly dry lips, my nerves stronger than before, and pull my gaze from his torso.
He’s already watching me, smug look in his eyes. “You checking me out, Rook?”
“Just making sure you’re not going to feel too emasculated when we’re side by side.”
He lifts an arm and flexes his bicep tight against his shirt. “I was scared you’d have the same problem.”
I laugh to let some of my nerves out. “Threesome. Okay.”
“Yep.”
“Before we find someone, I guess we have to set ground rules,” I say, trying to get my confidence back.
“Ground rules?”
“Well, threesomes are all different, aren’t they? Obviously, once it’s over, whoever we choose isn’t going to stick around, but—”
“Will we post-sex spoon, you mean? Hmm … Why don’t we play it by ear?”
I stare at him because that was so not what I was going to say. Instead of making things weird—weirder—I go along. “Noted. But also. During. We need to figure that out.”
He screws up his face, like he’s trying to picture something. “I figured it’d be … spit roast. Or something. Right? Is that how it works?”
“Dude, it can be whatever we want it to be. Just throwing it out there, I won’t say no to being fucked.”
“By me?”
It’s hilarious that’s where his thoughts go. “I was thinking more of a train situation. Choo choo! All aboard.”
“Like … I do her, and she does you?”
“Bingo.”
“Huh.” The word comes out on a heavy exhale.
“But it’d mean we were pretty close, so I guess it depends how you feel about that. Like, what if we bump balls? Or during warm-up, how close do we get? Do we kiss? Touch? What if our dicks get a little too friendly, you know what I mean?” Even I’m not sure how I’d feel having my dick brush up against Bilson’s, but I’m not turned off, so that helps.
Bilson drops his red face into his hands. “Is it bad that I’m too turned on to think about it? I don’t care. I just want to come.”
I’m having the same issue. My dick is hard as a rock.
“Then I guess all that’s left is finding someone to be the meat in our sandwich.”
“You choose,” he says.
I puff out a breath. “I think we both need a minute to calm down. It’s not going to be a fast find.”
“Good to know you’re as into this as I am.”
“It’s going to be an experience, that’s for sure.”
Or, it would be if we could find someone to take home. The first woman I approach is a hard pass; the second is vaguely interested until I mention the two of us, and then she’s out.
“This seemed like a good idea to begin with,” Bilson says.
I’m not ready to give up on the idea. I’d say it’s because I’m such a good friend that I don’t want his dick to fall off from lack of use, but if I’m honest … if I’m really, really honest … I’m curious what it will be like.
I tug Bilson on the dance floor behind me and approach a leggy girl with black hair. She’s got toned arms and is more solid-looking than the razor-thin woman beside her, and sure, maybe I’m stereotyping, but this woman seems more my type.
I approach her, and then when I’m close enough, I duck my mouth near her ear. “Wanna dance?”
“Sure do.”
The woman turns to face me, and I wrap my arms around her waist.
Her gaze is confident as it meets mine, sharpening when she presses closer and feels my hard cock against her hip. “Exciting night?”
“Something like that.” I catch sight of Bilson over her shoulder. “Can my friend dance with us?”
The instant she smiles, eyes giving away that she knows exactly where this is going, relief washes through me. “He better.”
Pure lust hits my veins as I grab the front of Bilson’s shirt and pull him against us. My hands are crushed between her back and his front, and it catches me totally off guard when, instead of touching her, his hands land on my hips. His hold tightens, and he pulls me closer until she’s tight between us, and my dick is so damn hard I might pass out.
“So,” the woman says. “What are you guys proposing?”
“You, me, and him,” I say immediately.
Her smile gets wider. “And what do you guys want to do to me?”
“My buddy here wants to fuck you.”
She laughs, wrapping a hand behind her to grip Bilson’s hair. “And you, sweetie?”
Like I can feel Bilson’s dark stare on me, watching for how I’m going to play this, I glance up. “I want you to fuck me.”
The woman immediately stops dancing. “Oh. Umm … yeah. Sorry. I’m not into … that.” Then she ducks out under our arms and disappears into the crowd.
My mouth—and excitement—drops as I watch her leave. “God goddamn damn it.” My forehead drops onto his shoulder I’m so defeated. We were this close, and I had to go and ruin it. “I’m sorry. I’ll find someone else. I …”
His hands are still on my hips.
Slowly, I lift my head to find Bilson still watching me. “What?”
“This isn’t going to work.” He steps away from me.
“Surely there’s one woman who’ll be interested. We have to—”
“Keep asking random women to come home with us? How many do we have to proposition before word gets out that the two newbies to Nashville are trying to have threesomes all over the place? I don’t want to be on Lucia’s radar for that. She’s an amazing person but scary as hell.”
“You’re right.”
Bilson’s lips hitch. “I think it’s the universe’s way of making sure I remain alone. Alone and horny. Want to get out of here?”
“Oh, so because you have to be horny and alone, so do I?”
Leaving is the last thing I want to do. I’m so hard I could cry, and if I’d gone with a standard spit-roast offer like Bilson said, we’d probably be on our way to making that happen. But it’s been forever. And I really, really want something in my ass again.
Whyaren’t more women into that?
“Well.” He swallows roughly. I watch the deep dip of his Adam’s apple before it bobs back up again. “What if …” The words hang in the air, the possibility of anything, as he shifts like he wants to move closer but doesn’t.
“What if, what?” My voice cracks.
Bilson closes in on me, and his hands find my waist once again. “You, uh, want to be fucked.”
“Yes.”
“And, I mean, it would be a release without the risk.”
“Are you … do mean … we have a threesome without the third?”
“Yes? No? We’re both hard up, I can’t have sex with a woman without getting attached, and you’ve already said you like … it … Maybe … if we close our eyes …”
It’s lucky he is hanging on to me because the room goes all unsteady, and shockingly, it’s not because I hate the idea. I think of being fucked by a silicone strap-on and try to picture taking an actual dick in my ass instead. Skin. Balls. Deep, rumbling noises in my ear. Thick arms wrapped around me.
I shudder. Pleasantly.
“You really think having sex with a man would be different? Emotion-wise? You aren’t scared of falling for me?” I’m taunting him, testing him. I’m up for this if he is, but the worry of it changing things between us or screwing with the team dynamic is at the forefront of my mind.
Bilson laughs. “You’re too much of a cocky little shit for me to fall for you.”
I swallow hard. “As long as it won’t get emotionally confusing, I’m in. But, uh, lights off, maybe?” I’m terrified. Excited. Confused. Body inching closer to his.
We’re both clearly too horny to think straight.
That’s obviously what’s happening when Bilson’s gaze dips to my lips.
When my breathing picks up.
When his hand slides around to squeeze my ass and pure fucking ecstasy floods me.
“Are we really doing this?” he murmurs.
“We are. Right now.”