Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

HANSLEY

T hird win. My team is on fire. I sit back and watch as they crowd around the bar area at the hotel and celebrate. They’re excited and loud, but not rowdy. I appreciate that they have some decorum. They truly are good guys. All of them.

Seth and Hakeem sit at the end, their heads huddled together as they steal kisses from time to time. I half wonder if Seth’s broken it off with the other three he was seeing. Or were there more than three at that point?

They shift when Leo drops into the chair Hakeem had been in before he got up to stand between Seth’s legs. I can’t hear them, but I can see by the way Leo is gesturing that he’s recapping something in the game. Seth and Hakeem don’t appear put out because he’s there. Interrupting their moment.

By the time I get up to my room, I’m tired. I rub my eyes as I step out from the elevator. It’s a large hotel, so there are three and another closes next to me, swallowing voices as they get carried away.

The floor I’m on is quiet, thankfully. I’m not sure if there aren’t any of my players on this floor or maybe it’s late enough where everyone’s ready to sleep. Even with the excitement of winning three of three games.

I push my door open and take a deep breath as I step into my room. As it turns out, I’m not a fan of silence. At least by the time I turn into the guest room at Alka’s, I’m already half asleep.

As I should be now, but everything just feels so heavy.

The door is loud when it closes behind me. I wince and wonder why the doors have to be built so heavy that they sound like someone’s breaking through them every time they close. Sure, fire barrier and all that shit, but let’s be honest. If a fire is outside my door, I’m going to die before I get out because Americans can’t be trusted with windows that open, so it’s not like we can escape that way, either.

I toss my suit jacket onto the chair and pause when there’s a knock at my door. Frowning, I turn around to stare at it. Maybe one of my players needs something? I’d think they’d just text me, but a quick glance at my phone says that’s not the case, though.

Pulling the door open, I’m shocked to find Lemon standing there looking like dessert in a tight getup that’s practically painted on and showing a very pretty and promising outline of his cock. I raise a brow when my gaze lands on the brightly painted chicken purse in his hand.

“Lemon?” I ask.

He sighs and nods.

For another beat, we stand there staring at each other until I come to my wits and take a step back to let him in. Lemon walks inside as I guide the door closed behind him. Not allowing it to slam this time, but also making sure it shuts securely.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask.

“I was guilted into attending my sister’s wedding,” he answers as he sets his chicken on the TV stand.

“That’s an… interesting choice of wedding attire.”

He smirks as he faces me. “I didn’t want to be there, but my mother is quickly becoming my least favorite person.”

“I’m glad someone outranks me now.”

Lemon rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t try to hide the smile on his lips. Then his gaze takes me in, and I can feel the heat crank between us.

“Are you staying in the hotel?” I ask.

He nods. I’m pretty sure it’s a subconscious movement when he licks his lips. “End of the hall. I saw you walking into your room when I got off the elevator. I didn’t know you were staying here. Also, I didn’t make the reservation.”

Crossing the space between us, I grip his hips and pull him against my body. His breath catches. “I don’t care if you had followed me, Lemon,” I murmur, running my lips across his jaw. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He shivers, his hands sliding up my chest. “You are?”

I nod, nipping at his neck. “Want to stay with me tonight, Lemon?”

A quiet sound leaves his throat, and he nods. “I uh… I have…” He glances at his chicken.

“A pet,” I note.

Lemon blinks a few times before snorting. “I didn’t want to be here, and I swear, I have legitimate reasons. I’m not just being a bitch,” he says defensively.

I cup his cheek and his breath catches. “I’m not judging you.”

“Everyone judges,” he whispers.

Shaking my head, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m really not. I’m judging the chicken for his weird paint job.”

Lemon laughs. “I bought that for Pride Parades. It’s rubber, so painting it wasn’t going to hurt it.”

“Rubber cock. I feel like there’s an innuendo there.”

“Technically speaking, it’s a hen. But yes, that’s why I bought it.”

I take his bottom lip between my teeth and listen to him moan. “Lemon, I’m not judging,” I say again. “I don’t care where you’re coming from or what you’re wearing. But you’re sexy as hell. Did you know?”

Lemon shivers. His hands curl in my shirt before his fingers dip into my pants. “I have condoms and stuff in my chicken.”

Laughter bursts out of me. That’s a weird sentence. Period. “Yeah? You plan to get laid at your sister’s wedding?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. I did say that’s for Pride Parades, right?”

“And sex is part of Pride Parades?” I ask, dropping my hands to his ass. “Just want to know how these things work.”

“No. I mean, you never know where you’re going to meet someone,” he admits. “It’s always best to be prepared.”

I love how breathless his voice gets when I haul his body against mine by his round ass, making his feet leave the ground. His hand slips further into my pants as he rubs my cock. It’s ready for him. I swear, it’s always ready for him.

“See if your pecker will give up the goods he’s keeping,” I murmur.

“She’s a hen,” he grumbles, then drops his head back as he laughs. I grin, trailing my lips along the lines of his neck.

When his head comes back up, our mouths finally come together. It feels like I haven’t tasted him in weeks. Months. I groan into his mouth, soaking up the heat I’ve been missing. There’s something sweet, like sugar. Something tangy, like alcohol. Just hints. Little notes mixed into Lemon’s natural taste.

I drag my hand over him, searching for a seam or a button or something. His back is smooth, his ass just as smooth. The straps on his shoulder are smooth.

Pulling my mouth from his, I ask, “Did you glue this thing to you?”

Lemon snorts. “No.”

“How do I take it off?”

His smile is beautiful as he pulls his hand from my pants. I watch closely, expecting him to produce a zipper out of nowhere. But instead, he peels it off him like it’s made of rubber. Or elastic. It stretches.

“Damn,” I mutter as he shimmies out of it, revealing his naked body underneath. I wet my lips. “Seriously, Lemon, no underwear?”

“They leave lines,” he says, kicking his suit aside and leaving him wonderfully exposed in front of me.

This is the first time I’ve looked at his body like this. Seeing it completely revealed to me. He’s lean, as I knew. Thin. I can see his ribs when he breathes, but his stomach has the hint of abdominal muscles. His hips are narrow, his thighs are muscular even though he’s small.

Lemon Frost is absolutely remarkable.

“Turn around,” I murmur, my eyes flickering to his face.

He has his lower lip between his teeth. I’ve never seen him look nervous like this. But he does. He turns and shows me his back.

His skin is smooth, taut. His ass is round and sexy. Even from behind, he is a gorgeous man.

I take a step closer and drop to my knees, softly running my hands up his legs until I get to his ass where I can take both round globes in my hands. I press my lip to the top of his crack before biting one supple cheek. He inhales sharply.

“I’ll prep while you get undressed,” he says quietly.

Reluctantly, I let him go and get back to my feet. “I want to watch,” I tell him.

His cheeks are pink as he nods. I watch him closely as he unzips his chicken and pulls out the supplies he has stashed in there—a handful of condoms and a small tube of lube. It reminds me of the travel sized bottles you get at the store that’ll fit in your carry on. Since he made it on a plane with it, it’s apparently the right size.

I’m unbuttoning my shirt when he lifts one leg onto the bed, keeping his back to me while he begins to finger himself. For a minute, I’m completely transfixed as I watch, forgetting entirely what I’m supposed to be doing.

“I had no idea that’s so hot,” I murmur, snapping myself out of it. Lemon shifts to look at me over his shoulder.

I feel like a starved man as I start roughly pulling at my clothes. I’ve never felt like I’m in so many layers as I do right now. It takes me far too long to get undressed and move behind him. Immediately, I add my finger to his hole and sink in. I press my lips along his spine as he groans and together, we prepare him for my dick.

“Another finger,” he says, and I search blindly for the lube before I comply with his demand. He pulls his hand away, bracing himself on the bed, gently rocking back toward me as I stretch him.

I can’t truly see his face from this position, but he’s so sexy. The lines of his body. The way his head hangs, his heavy breathing and the curls of his hair starting to get a little wild.

Pressing kisses to his skin, I gently move him up the bed and take my hand away. He shifts to watch as I put a condom on and apply some more lube. His eyes meet mine as I hover over his body, bringing my face to his so I can attempt an awkward kiss in this position.

It’s not pretty or sexy and we end up laughing more than actually kissing.

By the time I’m pushing inside him, I’m so hot I feel like I’ve been baking in the sun for hours with no reprieve. His body is super tight. Like he’s never done this before. And he feels like a damn furnace.

I bring his body down so we’re on our sides as I slowly work my way into him. Not because I think he needs gentleness right now, but because I can’t catch my breath. I want this to last. This is the first time we’re not sneaking around at school. There isn’t somewhere either of us is supposed to be. There’s nothing looming overhead that we might be late for in a few hours if we linger too long.

And… I’m separated from my wife. While I’m not divorced yet, it’s filed. My relationship is over. This isn’t wrong anymore.

Closing my eyes, I press my face to the back of his neck as I take possession of his body. Burying myself deep and then pulling out again. His breaths are harsh and ragged, loud. Matching mine punch for punch.

“Still hate me, Lemon?” I murmur.

He groans, tipping his head back so it presses to my forehead. “No,” he groans.

I grin, dropping my mouth to the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, kissing and biting and sucking. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to taste him. Worship him.

His hand drops to my thigh, pulling it up. Changing our angle slightly. Of course, he’s an expert on what feels best, so I’m not surprised when sexy little noises start coming out of his mouth in response.

My hand covers his chest, drops to his stomach, jerks his cock, grips his hip. I want to feel all of him. Touch him everywhere. This man is so damn sexy.

“There,” he whines, his hand reaching back to dig into my ass cheek. “Right there, Hansley.”

I’m not sure if I moved at all, but I’m careful to keep our position the same, so I’m hitting the spot that makes him feel good.

His gasps are loud and whiny. No longer having a reason to remain quiet, he doesn’t. Though he’s not awfully loud, I can hear him plainly now. I can lose myself in the sounds that he releases into the room. Filling my head and body with everything Lemon.

“I’m going to come,” he whines. “Touch me, Hansley.”

I grip his dick and jerk him, trying to keep a pace that makes sense with how I’m fucking him. I’m not sure if I manage, but he likes it all the same.

He’s not one of those people who suddenly seizes up when he comes. His entire body feels like a live wire leading up to his orgasm and through it. He writhes, wiggles, jerks. All while spurting hot ropes of cum onto my hand and the bed.

His ass clenches around me and I close my eyes to enjoy his pleasure, letting it feed my own until it wraps around me and squeezes my own orgasm free. I moan, burying my face into the back of his head as it washes through me.

God, he feels so good.

We’re panting when it’s over. Sweat drips down my back, pools at my hairline. I didn’t think we were in any particularly strenuous positions, but hell if I didn’t get a workout all the same.

I hold him to me a while longer, hoping he doesn’t try to bolt right away like usual. But I know it’s coming. As it does every time.

Once I think I have the strength to sit back and watch him leave, I pull my dick out gently and then roll onto my back, draping an arm over my eyes. I don’t particularly want to see him run tonight. I’m just going to pretend he won’t. Pretend he’s here so I can ignore everything that screams at me when I’m alone.