Page 156 of Interference

He fingered me a little just to make sure I had on enough lube, biting his lip and moaning the whole time as if the anticipation were driving him out of his mind. I could relate. Even with his fingers inside me, I needed his cock so bad, I was going to lose it.

“That’s enough,” I breathed. “Get… I want your dick. Now.”

Wyatt didn’t hesitate. He slid his fingers free, and then he guided me down, and we both swore as I took him inside. I didn’t think I’d ever get over how perfectly we fit together; he wasn’t big enough that we had to worry about him hurting me, but he was absolutely packing plenty to rock my damn world.

And oh God, he rocked my damn world.

After a few slow strokes to make sure I was taking him easily, we fell into a frantic, hungry rhythm. He matched me stroke for stroke, thrusting up into me every time I came down, and holy hell, he felt so damn good. When I could actually keep my eyes open—a challenge with how intense this was—the view was utterly spectacular. I loved the way he looked beneath my like this, running his hands all over my thighs and abs as he seemed to drink in the sight of me. Of us moving together.

All the while, the upheaval and uncertainty in my world were there, making themselves known like someone in the next room playing their music too loud, but I just didn’t care. I could deal with all of that later. Right now, the only thing that held my focus was this gorgeous man who somehow couldn’t get enough of me. Every brush of his fingertips or his lips, every stroke of his dick inside me—it all just made everything else seem a million miles away. It all became unimportant compared to moving with Wyatt and watching his pleasure play out across his face.

I rested a hand on the headboard, and with the other, I started jerking my cock.

“Ooh, yeah,” Wyatt growled. “That’s it, baby. Oh my God, that’s hot.”

“You want me to come like this?” I panted.

He groaned low in his throat and arched beneath us. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pumped myself for all I was worth. Wyatt swore under his breath and thrust up harder, driving himself as deep as he could and sending me hurtling toward that edge.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmured. “Let me see it. Let me feel it.” He was as breathless as I was, his rhythm falling apart as we took each other higher and higher.

“Oh, yeah,” I murmured. “Fuck, I’m almost there. I’m almost…” I trailed off because I forgot how to speak.

Wyatt gasped, his whole body tensing under me, and the realization that he was on the edge sent me right over it. I cried out, gripping the headboard for dear life as I came on my hand and his stomach, and a few erratic strokes later, he shouted with the force of his own release.

And just like that, we were still.

I slumped over him, and he pulled me the rest of the way down. I didn’t care about the cum or the sweat. I just let myself be wrapped up in his hot, trembling arms as we rode out those last few aftershocks.

“I think you’re right,” he slurred. “This is way better than getting shitfaced.”

I laughed, ironically sounding a bit drunk. “Sex with you is way better than a lot of things.” I lifted my head to find his mouth with mine, and added, “A lot of things.”

He chuckled, too, and we kissed lazily for a moment before we finally separated to clean ourselves up. When we returned to the bed, we collapsed in the middle in a tangle of shaky limbs and sleepy kisses. My bare foot grazed his prosthetic, but I was so used to that now, the touch of cold metal only vaguely registered. It was, if anything, just a reminder of who was in bed with me.

As if I could forget. No one had ever held me like Wyatt did. The sex was incredible, but he also had this way of holding me close that was comforting without being suffocating. I missed being next to him when I was on road trips, and I missed this part even more than the sex.

It was like I’d been miserable for so long, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved.

I closed my eyes and smiled to myself. Yeah, I’d forgotten it for a while. I sure remembered now, though, and I was happily making up for lost time whenever I got into bed with Wyatt.

After a while, he loosened his embrace and pulled back enough to meet my gaze. “Listen, to be serious…” He carded his fingers through my hair. “Are you okay? After everything with Simon?”

I thought about it, and then I nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” I trailed my knuckles down his arm. “I’ll still have hockey one way or the other. I’ve still got you and my boys.” I half-shrugged. “The rest will shake itself out.”

“You’re not stressed about being traded?”

“Oh, I am.” I laughed halfheartedly. “I hate it when things are up in the air like this. I hate not knowing when or where I’ll be playing hockey again. But it’s… I mean, this is also a huge relief, you know? I don’t have to pretend Simon and I are happy together anymore. I don’t have to room with him on the road anymore. Yeah, there’s a lot going on that’s stressing me out, but I feel like I can breathe again for the first time in ages.”

He kissed my temple. “I hope it works out. You’ll be able to breathe even better when this is all over.”

“Yeah, I will.” I caressed his cheek and held his gaze. “Listen, if they do move me—when they move me, because it’s probably a done deal—will you come with me?”

Wyatt’s eyes widened. “You’d want me to?”

“Yeah. I know we haven’t been doing this for very long, and maybe we shouldn’t move in together right away in a new place, but…” I swallowed. “This thing we’re doing—this is the best I’ve felt in a long, long time. I don’t want to rush into anything, but I also don’t want to give it up.”

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