Page 93 of Hot Streak

“You care. If you don’t, you absolutely fucking should. I told you what happened to me,” Jackson retorted.

Connor opened his mouth to argue but Jackson didn’t let up. Didn’t let him get a word in edgewise. Someone had to be smart, here, and clearly, as he’d already acknowledged, it was not going to be Connor. Big shocker, there.

“I know you think you’re good enough it doesn’t matter,” Jackson continued. “It matters, Connor.”

Don’t be like me. You don’t want to look back at your career in ten years and think, I wish I would’ve done a few things differently.

“You’re crazy,” Connor retorted. “I kept my voice down. I could’ve been asking you anything. Am I not supposed to even talk to you in public places now?”

“Not about sex,” Jackson said.

But his traitorous body, so long deprived of regular release and unbearably tempted by Connor’s nearness and that stupid kiss in the elevator, responded to the word like it was conditioned to.

Connor might be reckless, but he was not stupid and he was not unobservant, either, because he stalked closer, pinning Jackson’s legs against the edge of the bed.

“What about in here? Can I talk about sex now?” Connor murmured, and all it took was him leaning in for Jackson to break.

He might’ve been concerned about how easily Connor had destroyed his self-control, but he didn’t let himself be. Instead, Jackson lost himself to the kiss.

Connor’s hot, wet mouth on his, his hands everywhere, pulling off their clothes, tumbling with him into bed.

It was quick and hot and wild, and when it was over, Jackson lay there, his heart beating way too fast, and tried to regret it. But it was hard to, when he felt the lassitude of satisfaction stealing over him, his heart clenching with sweet affection as Connor turned over towards him.

“And you weren’t even wet that time,” Connor said smugly, his forehead resting against Jackson’s bicep.

He felt an unbearable temptation to push him away and pull him closer, both at the same goddamn time.

“Guess I’m irresistible dry too,” Jackson said wryly.

“You are.” Connor’s blue eyes were wide and guileless, and it seemed he actually believed what he was saying. “Which is why this is gonna be hard on me.”

“You’ve gotten everything you’ve wanted pretty easily so far. It’s time.”

Connor made a face, but he didn’t argue, either.

Jackson had known he’d had an easy ride up to this point. With looks like that, he could have anyone he’d ever wanted. God-given talent so obvious he’d been drafted high, and practically soared through the minors.

It explained why Jackson had fucked him up so much.

Nobody else had ever gone toe-to-toe with Connor before. Nobody had ever forced him to take a hard look in the mirror, past that pretty-boy face and those incredible eyes.

But someone needed to demand more from him. If they didn’t, Jackson was afraid he’d squander everything he’d been handed. Maybe someone else could do it, but after what felt like years of refusing personal investment in anyone but himself, Jackson discovered he just couldn’t do it with Connor.

Even if it wasn’t his fucking job, he still couldn’t have turned away.

“We gotta get up. Get dressed. Pack up,” Jackson said, but he didn’t move.

“What are you doing tonight?” Connor asked.

Jackson tried to roll his eyes. Put some real emphasis into the movement. But it came out much more affectionate than exasperated. “You just came.”

“Well, yeah, sure, but we barely managed to get undressed. And nobody’s gonna interrupt us tonight. We can take our time. Explore a little.”

“It’s gonna be a long drive back to Raleigh. We might be tired,” Jackson said. Why was he trying to pretend he didn’t want that, too? Was it that he was afraid? Practically fucking terrified? That was the problem. It was his natural inclination at this point to resist getting close, to doing repeats.

But you already have. You’ve given each other three orgasms at this point. What’s a few more?

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Connor said, grinning. He got up and, after using a handful of tissues to clean up the worst of their mess, headed to the shower.

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