Page 50 of Go Deep

“I sacrificed my relationship with my father.” Gabe’s forehead pinches. “He threw me out when he heard. Wanted nothing to do with me. He was sick, diagnosed with Huntington’s disease, a terminal neurological condition. We’d been so close before that and because he chose his beliefs over his relationship with me, we lost so much time. He didn’t want me around for his last months.”

“Was it worth it?”

“If he couldn’t love me because of my sexuality, that was his choice. It hurt, but I don’t regret my sacrifice. I made the right decision for myself. My dad regretted his, though. He finally apologized on his deathbed. So much fucking wasted time that we could never get back.”

He raises his eyes toward me. “You can think of it as loss. I always thought of it as what I had to gain. I could finally breathe. People are still narrow-minded. There will always be haters. But fuck them because I’m living my life according to my own rules. I deserve that happiness.” He pauses. “And I don’t want to run from my fears ever again. I don’t want to get involved with someone who is half-in because I’m all in.”

My heart thrashes in my chest. I grip the marble countertop so tight, my fingertips turn white.

Weakness.

I’ve been running from that perception for years, ever since my NFL career crashed and burned. After building myself back up from the ashes, making a name for myself in the industry, and taking the world by the balls to get everything I want, that repressed part of me is still watching from the sidelines, waiting for a chance to get in the game.

My father sees what I’ve accomplished, but none of it matters. I’ll always be the son who couldn’t hack it in the NFL, the one who was too weak to write his own football success story. It won’t matter how much money I can make in portfolio management, how many clients I can sign. In his eyes, I’ll always be weak. He made sure to ingrain that in my mind all these years.

Giving in to these urges will put my life under a microscope, and everything I’ve done to recover from the loss of my career will shatter around me.

I could accept the loss of clients if I fuck up their livelihoods.But I won’t sit back and let clients dictatemylivelihood because I like cock.

Fuck that.

“I have the life I want.”

I almost gag on the words because they taste like shit coming out of my mouth.

“You havealife. Is it the one that makes you happy? Money, cars, houses. What the fuck good is it all if you can’t share it with someone you care about?”

A sharp pain shoots down my left arm. Shit, maybe I need to take this heart disease stuff a little more seriously and get myself checked out.

He wants an answer, but I can’t tell him the truth. I can’t give in to the urges. I can’t give in to fucking anything.

“I’m not you, Gabe. You made your decision, and I’ve made mine. I’m leaving.”

My breaths are like shards of glass scraping the sides of my throat as I gulp down air. I stalk out of the kitchen doorway and grab the front door handle. But before I can twist it, Gabe grabs my arm.

With a hard yank, he twists me around to face him. Then he lunges for me, grabbing the sides of my face as he crushes his mouth to mine. His fingers dig into my scalp, tugging my hair as his tongue plunders my mouth. He thrusts his hips against me, his cock long and hard.

Even through two sets of pants, I can feel how ready he is for more. I moan into his mouth, gripping him tight by his shirt. Heat floods my insides, sparks in my groin igniting like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Minutes pass and we devour each other like it’s the last time our lips will ever meet.

My gut knots because…it is.

Without breaking the kiss, Gabe pushes me into the living room and backs me against the couch. He cups my cock,rubbing it hard as he runs his fingers up and down my back. I arch forward into his hand, my mind a mess of “what-ifs.”

What if I was finally honest with myself and the world? What if I let myself fall for this man who has already captivated my body and soul? What if I let myself finally…be?

Blood rushes to my groin, and for once in my life I just want to give in to the deep aching need inside of me…the need for freedom.

Gabe pulls open my pants and shoves them to my ankles. With one final suck of my lower lip, he backs away the slightest bit. Hunger glimmers in the depths of his searing gaze. He pushes me onto the couch and then drops to his knees in front of me. Without moving his eyes off of me, he takes the full length of my cock into his mouth.

I let out a gasp, my head falling backward against the cushion. Holy fuck, my heart is about to explode out of my chest. He takes me deep, the head of my cock bobbing against the back of his throat. He works me up and down with his hand and his mouth, cradling my balls with his free one. He squeezes them tight, clamping down on my cock with his lips. Sucking me down like he’s a starving man devouring his last meal on Earth.

Tingles in my groin shoot out to the tips of my toes, paralyzing me with the kind of carnal bliss I’ve never felt in my life.

He knows exactly what I want, exactly what I need.

I meet his lips, thrust for thrust, tangling my fingers in his hair. He gags but never slows his oral assault. I fuck his mouth, faster and harder until my body crackles with a surge of electricity that sizzles every cell, and the orgasm rips through me. I shudder from the force that erupts out of me.

Gabe’s lips stay locked on my dick. He takes in every drop, his blue eyes dark with desire, eye fucking me as good as his mouth did. I lie there for a second, my head trying to wrapitself around the fact that I was just sucked off by a man, and it was fucking otherworldly.

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