Page 70 of Home Game

“So combative,” he said. “Are we going tofuckin your bed, or fight?”

My cock ached. “No. I’m going to show you why there’s nothing better than the first snow of the season.”

He puffed out a sweet laugh, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. “You are so cute,” he said, and for once he seemed completely sincere. He didn’t sound like he was teasing or sarcastic. “Your commitment to making me enjoy fall and winter is one of the cutest things about you, you know.”

I felt a heat creeping up to my cheeks. Was I really blushing right now because he’d called me cute?

“You didn’t like it when I sent you the fall gift basket.”

“That wasn’t a basket,” he clarified. “It was a marble monstrosity.”

I stood up, letting water rush down my body. “Take your time. I’m going to go make some hot chocolate.”

His eyes were focused on my cock.

“I think I want something else a little more than hot chocolate right now,” he murmured.

“My cock is yours tonight, Storm,” I said. “I promise. But the kind of hot chocolate I want to make is Belgian, and it will have a good amount of whiskey in it, and if I don’t have some I’m afraid I’m going to explode the moment you touch me.”

He hummed. “Would that be so bad?”

“You could make me come in three seconds,” I said. “And I’ve already been embarrassed enough, today. I’ll be right back up with some drinks.”

I got out and toweled off, and as I headed downstairs I realized how badly I’d needed a moment to pause.

Not because I didn’t want to do things with Storm, but because I wanted it so,sofucking badly.

When was the last time I’d let anyone in like this? Let someone share my space, let them see the raw core of my feelings? The last time I’d done it, I’d gotten burned so badly the scars were still on me two years later.

He just wants to fuck.

Not everything has to be so goddamn serious.

He’s a playboy who’s gotten a taste for cock, and you’re just the one who is in front of him.

As I heated up the hot chocolate, thoughts swirled in and out of my mind just as wildly as the flakes of snow outside. How had my wires gotten so crossed? I’d begun to feel something more affectionate for Storm.

Something almost like a crush.

I took my time making the hot chocolate. I turned the burner on its lowest setting, pushed my thoughts away. Oreo and Pepper were still here downstairs, tuckered out by all the playing they were doing earlier. They were both curled up and snoozing in Pepper’s big dog bed at the edge of the living room.

I let my brain and my cock settle before heading back upstairs with the drinks on a tray.

Before I entered my bedroom, I half expected to see Storm trying to mess with me in one of his playful ways. Maybe he’d be spread eagle on the bed, showing everything to me. Maybe he’d still be in the tub, stroking his cock.

But when I walked past the doorway into the low light of my bedroom, I saw Storm cozy in the spare clothes I’d lent him, lying down on my bed.

His eyes were closed.

And, most shocking of all, he was breathing evenly, and was already in a light, peaceful sleep.

My heart squeezed a little in my chest. I’d never seen Storm look quite like this. So innocent and adorable again, sleeping soundly. I moved to set down the tray of hot chocolate on the credenza at the edge of my room, picking up the small teacup full of my own spiked hot chocolate.

I was still just wearing a towel slung around my waist. I sipped the whiskey and chocolate near the windows in my room.

I wanted to get in bed next to him.

I wanted it so badly it physicallyhurt—an ache in my chest that was far stronger than it should have been.

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