Page 16 of Provoking the Punter

The flames of Garrett’s scandal hadn’t even gone out yet.

He was hot, and smart, and intriguing. And the bits that he revealed seemed genuine. Besides, who didn’t have a secret?

He put the glass in the dishwasher and held his breath as Garrett reached the door. He expected the pause and waited for the door to open.

Garrett flicked the lock and turned around.

Had he made his decision on the walk? Had he done the math, the same as he did on the field, so that when he stepped up, he was ready?

He may not be sure what to do, but he seemed to know what he wanted. Him.

“Not smart, Monroe,” Chester muttered. But if he was being honest, he’d been infatuated from the first video he’d watched. Which wasn’t a good excuse. He should know better.

He did know better.

Which didn’t explain why he was waiting for Garrett to return instead of calling it off. Perhaps he was tired of boring and respectable and wanted a little excitement and tension.

His life was filled with people who said the right things, and did the right things, and knew the right people… and they were always chasing the next step in the ladder.

He was tired of climbing. He quite liked the view from where he stood.

He didn’t need more.

And until last week, he’d have said he didn’t need anything. Or anyone.

Garrett’s fingers trailed over the wood of the bar as he stepped around. There was a moment of hesitation as if he didn’t know what to do next. Before Chester said anything, he saw resolve flicker in Garrett’s eyes, and one second later, the punter closed the distance between them in three long strides.

Garrett slid his hand around Chester’s waist and pulled him in before dipping his head to take a kiss… which was far too chaste and left him wanting far more.

“Was that okay?” Garrett whispered against his lips.

“Why did you stop?”

“I don’t know…” His tongue flicked Chester’s lip ring. “I’ve made my play…”

Chester laughed. “You want me to take charge?”

“Yeah.” He stole another kiss. “Or give me a clue?—”

Chester put a hand on Garrett’s hip and pressed against him. “Or you could stop overthinking it and let things happen.”

He wanted everything to happen: clothes off, naked on the floor, fucking until neither of them could move. He’d settled for getting his bare hands on bare skin.

Garrett brushed his thumb over Chester’s cheek. His lips moved, his tongue seeking more, and Chester gave it. He plucked Garrett’s shirt free of his pants and slid a hand beneath, tracing the ridges and dips of the muscles, then over the fly of his pants, following the hard ridge of his erection.

Garrett rocked his hips and moaned into Chester’s mouth. With a gasp, he stepped back. “I… I want…” His teeth raked over his bottom lip as his gaze dropped. “I want to suck you.”

“Then get on your knees, honey.” Chester heard the need in his own voice, because—now that Garrett had spoken his desire—there was nothing more he wanted.

Garrett dropped and looked up with hungry blue eyes. “It’s been years.”

Those few words told Chester exactly what kind of sex Garrett had been having, and it wasn’t the fun kind. “I don’t care. I’m never going to say no if you want to practice sucking my dick.”

That dimpled smile formed, and Garrett lowered his gaze. Then Garrett’s big hands were on him, smoothing up his thighs. Garrett’s thumbs brushed beneath his balls, before finally reaching for the fly of Chester’s pants.

In truth, this isn’t what Chester expected to happen. He’d expected to be on his knees, and he wouldn’t have minded one bit. As it was, he couldn’t look away as Garrett dragged down the zipper and liberated his cock from his briefs.

Again, there was a moment of pause as he held Chester’s dick, and Chester would’ve given anything to know what was running through Garrett’s head. Was he regretting getting on his knees? Trying to remember what to do? Or was he so wound up he was about to come?

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