11. BILSON

ELEVEN

BILSON

In the moment, on that dance floor, this seemed like a brilliant solution. To avoid falling for the wrong woman, I’d get my release from a man.

But the closer we get back to my place, the more I begin to doubt our decision. We haven’t spoken a word on the drive other than for me to direct Miles to my house. I’d caught a rideshare to meet him earlier because I was hoping the night would end with us both in here. Of course, that plan also had a woman being with us.

This though … This might work out even better.

“It’s this one up here on the right.” I point.

Miles pulls his truck into the driveway and throws it in park, but for all his eagerness in the club, he hesitates now. “Are you sure you’re okay with this, old man? I know your generation thinks sexuality is a big deal, and⁠—”

“This has nothing to do with sexuality and everything to do with needing to get off with something other than my hand.”

“Aww, you know how to make a boy feel special.”

I side-eye him, trying to figure out if he’s being serious or not.

“I’m fucking with you. It’s just sex.”

Exactly. I’ve never had just sex before because sex and lust are so easy to confuse with love. But when it comes to Miles, the risk of falling is taken out because even though I might be open to having sex with a man, I don’t see myself ever settling down with one. I’ve never given it much thought before—having sex with or dating a man—but I do know as I look at Miles, his wild blond hair in his face, his cocky smirk on his lips, all I feel is friendship.

I nod. “Just sex.” Miles goes to get out of the car when I grab his arm. “And we don’t let it mess with hockey or the team.”

“Duh.”

“Okay.” We get out of the truck, and he follows me to the front door.

My hands shake as I unlock my house, and the second we’re standing in the foyer, I hesitate to close the door, as if thinking once it’s shut, there’s no going back.

Is this something I want? My cock is already on board, but it’s been so long since it’s seen any action it would be happy with anything other than my hand at this point.

“You going to close that, or do you want all your neighbors to see?” Miles snarks.

The anticipation thrumming in my veins bubbles over, and I slam the door shut and move in on him, pinning him against the wall with my forearm across his chest.

Miles’s eyes widen, and his lips part. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and the mixture of shock and heat in his gaze is surprisingly hot. Really hot.

But I don’t know what the rules are.

We agreed on lights off, close our eyes, and pretend it’s not a dude we’re fucking, but already I can tell that won’t work.

Miles is big, his chest wide and hard. His grunt when I press against him is masculine and deep. And when he rasps, “Are we going to do this here or in the bedroom?” there’s no way I can pretend I’m not having sex with a teammate. A friend.

If I can push past that, I’ll be fine.

“Bedroom.” My voice is thick and gravelly.

I pull off him and lead the way, thankful Killer is already in the laundry room for the night, refusing to look back at him to make sure he’s following.

He is though. Because as soon as I enter my bedroom, I go to flick on the lights when his hand comes down on mine.

“No lights. Remember?”

I might not be able to keep pretending he’s someone else, but apparently, he’s not there yet. That’s okay with me because the more we can keep detached, the better it will be for the team.

I drop my hand. “Right.”

“You got lube?”

“Umm, somewhere.” I know the movers unpacked all my shit for me, but where would they have put the sex stuff? “I’ll go find it.”

“And condoms.”

“Scared I’m going to get you pregnant?” I quip. My joke eases some of the tension in the room.

“Aww, were you of the generation where sex education only taught you about how to avoid pregnancies? No wonder everyone over the age of thirty has HPV.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the point we’re trying to get to, yes.”

“Fine. You look in my drawers. I’ll check the bathroom.” I head for my attached bathroom and turn on the light.

Miles shuffles around the room, opening and closing drawers while I check the vanity.

“Oh, hello,” Miles says. I turn to find him holding lube in one hand and the unopened sex toy Dennan bought me after my last divorce. The pocket pussy. He told me I’d be needing it.

I actually forgot I had it.

“This looks fun.”

“Have at it. My old teammate gave it to me, so I never used it because I thought I’d only be able to think about him the whole time.”

“We could pretend to have that threesome after all. It’s not gay if it’s in a three-way. Or so I’ve heard.”

I burst out laughing. “No, of course not. Nothing gay going on here.”

Technically, sex between two straight-identifying men would be bisexual behavior, and yes, I know how much of an oxymoron that it, but I’m holding on to any justification I can because I’m so desperate to stick my dick in someone.

“So we’re set, then?” He pulls a box of condoms out of the drawer next.

“Looks like it.”

Yet, we both continue to stand there. Not moving. With an entire king bed between us.

“Okay, this is awkward,” he eventually says. “It seemed like an awesome idea at the club, but now …”

“Now it’s too real?”

He shakes his head. “Now it’s too … serious. Sex is supposed to be fun.”

I huff. “I’m nervous. I’ve never, you know, with a dude, and even if it is only sex, even if we could guarantee nothing would change tomorrow, I don’t want to fuck up what we have. You’re completely different to what I was expecting, and this is the last thing I thought would be happening.”

“How about we start small?”

“How?”

“We’ve seen each other naked already, so we may as well start there.”

And we have. Countless times. Of course, in a locker room, it’s instinctual not to look or make a big deal out of it, but if we look at this whole situation similarly, it won’t be a problem to get naked in front of someone I have before.

I begin undressing with my button-down, and while I do that, Miles reaches back and takes off his tank top.

Shirtless. Easy.

Miles moves on to his pants, and I follow him, but he’s going commando, and I’m not, so I make it a point not to look at his junk or in his general vicinity until I get my underwear off too.

I’m pulling them down my legs when he asks, “Favorite sex position?”

I almost trip over myself.

He laughs. “Need a hand with that?”

“No,” I grumble.

“You going to answer the question?”

“You’re asking what my favorite position is, really?”

“I like it when a girl’s on top, personally. Taking control. Tits bouncing up and down in front of my face.” Miles picks up the lube and squirts some into his hand, and I can’t tell if this confident act of his is for show like it is on the ice or if he’s actually this confident when it comes to sex.

He reaches behind him, and I can only assume he’s prepping his hole.

Heat rushes through me.

Maybe the few years between us really is the difference between the purity culture generation and the sexually free generation. Where gender, sexuality, or body parts aren’t a factor in chemistry.

I step closer to the bed and hold out my hand for him to throw me the box of condoms. Even though this situation is weird and awkward as fuck, I’m still hard.

He throws them to me across the bed. “Your turn.”

If he’s using this as a distraction technique, it’s working. Because while I grab a condom and open it up, I’m not thinking about what we’re about to do. I’m thinking about what I like in bed, but that’s not exactly a simple question.

“All of them?”

“You have to have a favorite, but please don’t say missionary. I’ll be so disappointed in you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with missionary.”

“And you wonder why you’ve been divorced four times.” His face drops. “Shit. I probably shouldn’t bring that up, should I?”

I shrug. “I’d dispute it if it weren’t so true. Though, sex was never the issue in any of my marriages. And fine, I’ll answer your stupid question. Missionary is good for when you want that eye contact. It’s intimate. Doggy style is good for when you want to get off fast. Her on top is good for after a game when your muscles are all achy and you want her to do the work. Reverse cowgirl is probably my least favorite because it’s so impersonal.”

Miles stops what he’s doing and stares at me. Cocks his head. Keeps staring.

“What?” I ask.

“Sex is emotional for you, huh? Like you get all the bonding hormones that come with it.”

I’ve never thought of it in the sense that it’s the hormones released during sex that fucks with my brain and tells me I’m in love, but that definitely is my problem. “Why else do you think I’ve stayed away from sleeping with anyone?”

Miles goes back to what he’s doing. “In that case, we’ll keep this as impersonal as possible. On your back, CB. I’m gonna reverse cowgirl the cum out of you.”

“Now who’s the romantic one?”

“Excuse me. I’m bromantic, thank you very much. Bros give each other brogasms all the time. Just ask my old frat buddies.”

Even though he’s ridiculous, I do as he says and get on the bed on my back.

“What’s a worse idea?” I ask. “Having sex with a teammate or someone who says brogasms?” I stroke myself a few times.

“Lucky for you, you get both.” Miles’s knees hit the bed, and then he throws a leg over my waist so he’s facing my feet. “I got myself mostly ready, but I might need a bit more prep. Your dick is bigger than any strap-on I’ve ever used.”

“Woohoo, above average for the win.”

“Don’t know if that’s a good thing in this situation,” Miles points out.

“Anal is the only time a man will lie about how small his dick is. Instead of adding inches, they take them off.”

Miles laughs. “Truth.”

When I left the bathroom, I didn’t turn the light out, so there’s enough light in here for me to find the lube he’s left on the bed so I can cover myself and my fingers with it.

From this angle, when I use two digits and push my way inside his hole, it doesn’t feel any different than if I were with a woman this way. My cock is aching, and his ass is so tight we might be here a while before I can work myself inside him.

I get my fingers past his tight ring of muscle, and he sinks onto them. His body racks with shivers, and then he takes over, controlling how deep my fingers go by moving his hips.

While he fucks my fingers, I stroke my dick, trying to give it some goddamn relief. Some friction. Something to make it stop yelling at me from neglect.

“Oh, yeah. Right there.” Miles’s hips move faster. “This is why I love this.”

Once he’s moving more easily, I add a third finger slowly, but soon, he’s taking that too.

His breathing is heavy, the sounds he makes are downright sinful, and if he’s not careful, I could come from watching him sink down on my fingers over and over again.

“Oh God. I’m ready. Give it to me.”

I pull my fingers free and line up my cock, but before I push inside him, I have to double-check. “Are you sure?”

“Now you ask that? Hurry up and fuck me.”

And with that, I lift my hips and sink inside my teammate.

We’ve either just messed everything up between us or made it a whole lot better. I haven’t decided yet.